by Botts, Liz
Chapter Eleven
“Why are we doing another Grandma dinner so soon?”
Hayley grumbled as she put silverware on the table.
Mom sighed, “I told you. Grandma told Dad and me that she had something very special to tell all of us.”
“Maybe she won amateur night,” Hayley snickered.
“Not funny, Hayley,” Mom ground out setting the water pitcher down on the table with a thump.
Mom went back into the kitchen looking frazzled. She was making a really traditional meal, more akin to Thanksgiving than a normal Sunday dinner. The turkey in the oven had to weigh thirty pounds easy. And Mom made not one, but two pies. Her way of dealing with Granma’s extremely nontraditional tendencies seemed to be to make things as traditional as possible.
“Leave Mom alone, Hay,” I said. “We’re going to have enough trouble with Harlow being home tonight.”
Hayley rolled her eyes but returned to putting silverware on the table. I picked up the water pitcher to finish filling the glasses for Mom. I had no idea what Grandma’s announcement would be, and I didn’t want to venture a guess. The last time Grandma had made a big announcement, it had been to tell us that she was going to Australia to become a didgeridoo player. Ultimately, she’d met a man who claimed to be the inspiration for Crocodile Dundee.
Grandma spent a month camping in the Outback.
Still another meal with Duke’s potential revelations didn’t appeal to me. Plus with Harlow here, things were sure to be melodramatic at best. She still didn’t know that I had the lead in the musical. Mom suggested time and again that I call Harlow, because then she might be able to help me. Why did everyone think I needed so much help?
“I’m hoo-‐-oome!” Harlow trilled from the entryway. She refused to use the garage door like the rest of us.
Hayley and I looked at each other. We heard Dad talking in his low, pleasant voice. We all had mechanisms for dealing with Harlow’s craziness. Our parents seemed to think Harlow’s mood swings and penchant for the dramatic would be something she’d outgrow as she, well, grew up. And yet, here she was, a junior in college and she was no closer to outgrowing her moods and dramatics than she had been at the age of two. Not that I’d know what Harlow was like at two, as I wasn’t even born until she was four, but I can imagine she was the same as she’d always been.
“This’ll be interesting,” Hayley muttered as she made her exit to the kitchen. I debated following her, but I knew I’d have to see Harlow, especially since I hadn’t talked to her since she’d abandoned me at the party. I bet she didn’t even remember.
I wandered into the living room where Harlow had set herself up on the armchair, her favorite footstool pulled up close.
When I say she’d set herself up on the armchair, I literally mean she was posed on the armchair like she was waiting for someone to take her picture.
And so it made sense to me when I greeted her with,
“Waiting for your close-‐-up?”
Harlow rolled her eyes. “You’re so immature, Hannah.”
She’s one to talk, I grumbled to myself. “I got the lead in the musical.”
Harlow’s feet dropped to the floor with a thud. “Excuse me?” She laughed in disbelief. “It sounded like you just said you, a lowly little junior, got the lead in the spring musical.”
Hmmm. I was going to enjoy this. “That’s exactly what I said,” I replied, leaning nonchalantly against the arm of the sofa.
As Harlow’s jaw dropped, her brain appeared to be processing this information at warp speed. And then reprocessing it over and over. “How did that happen?” She sputtered.
I actually had to laugh. “I was the best, I guess.” I sat down on the sofa opposite her. Picking some fuzz off a throw pillow I added, “I didn’t even have to do a callback.”
Harlow just kept shaking her head like maybe this was all a bad dream and if she could only wake up, the universe would right itself and her baby sister would be the lowly little nothing she had always been.
“No congratulations, huh?” I asked, knowing that Harlow congratulated no one but herself.
Harlow shook her head. “I can’t believe Ms. Bard would ruin a play like that.”
Sudden tears pricked my eyes. Ouch. Even after sixteen years, Harlow still knew how to cut right to my core. Getting up, I left the room before she could say anything else. Hiding in my room until Grandma and Duke arrived seemed like a good idea. I ran into Hayley in the hallway, and before I had a chance to hightail it up the stairs she grabbed my hand and pulled me into the den.
“I heard what she said,” Hayley confessed. “She’s wrong.”
“Thanks,” I sniffled, suddenly extremely glad that Hayley was my little sister. She grabbed some Kleenex and handed it to me.
“Ms. Bard made exactly the right choice,” Hayley continued.
“Harlow’s just jealous.”
That actually made me laugh. Harlow jealous of me? Yeah, right. Still, it was nice of Hayley to say something like that.
The doorbell rang before I could say anything else to Hayley. I swiped at my eyes one last time, and we headed out into the entryway to greet Grandma and Duke. Grandma was giddy.
You could just tell. This actually was a big announcement. I somehow doubted it had to do with travel.
Once all the pleasantries were over, Mom served our faux Thanksgiving dinner. We were too stuffed to argue with one another for a change, which was nice. Most dinners with Harlow deteriorated into fits of name-‐-calling until someone left the table in tears. Not very pleasant if you ask me.
When Mom brought the pies out, Grandma tapped her water glass with her knife. She stood up, eyes sparkling as she turned to Duke. “As you all know, Duke has changed my life. He understands me as no one else ever has. And so for that, Duke, you know that I love you with all my heart,” Grandma began.
Duke smiled up at Grandma. “Oh, Wanda, I love you too.”
His sigh was sweet. You could tell that he really did care about Grandma.
Grandma’s smile widened. “And so you will understand why our news is so wonderful.” Grandma gave her dramatic pause. “Duke has asked me to marry him, and I accepted. We are getting married at the end of May.”
Mom sat down heavily in her chair. “Oh, dear,” she murmured.
Hayley and I stared at each other in disbelief. Harlow squealed and jumped up to hug Grandma. Dad put on his surprised, yet delighted voice, and congratulated them heartily, going so far as to thump Duke on the back.
It only took Mom a few moments to gather her senses and hurry around the table to hug Grandma and Duke. Hayley and I followed suit, but shock was still coursing through my system.
When we all sat down again, Grandma said, “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I want all you girls to be in my wedding as bridesmaids, of course. Hayley, I thought you might be willing to do our make-‐-up for the big day. Me and all my bridesmaids that is.
Duke won’t be wearing any make-‐-up, although it’s okay with me if he wants to.”
Duke laughed like Grandma had said the funniest thing ever. “I won’t be needing those services,” he hiccupped.
“That’d be great, Grandma,” Hayley smiled.
“And, Hannah, I want you to have the honor of being in charge of Glinda,” Grandma said.
“What do you mean?” I asked uncomfortably. Glinda was Grandma’s maltipoo, who pretty much went everywhere with Grandma.
Grandma laughed dismissively. “You know,” she said.
“You’ll be grooming her and carrying her down the aisle.”
“Oh,” I said, trying my best not to sound horrified. “Sure. I’d love to.”
Grandma turned to Harlow. “And, Harlow, darling, I want you to sing.”
“What else would I do?” Harlow trilled as prettily as she could.
“Actually I was hoping you’d also agree to be my maid of honor,” Grandma announced.
“Me?” Gasped Harlow, jumpin
g up from the table and rushing around to hug Grandma. “I’d be delighted!”
Great, Harlow got to sing and be the maid of honor, and I was stuck with Glinda the spoiled witch. I slouched in my seat, really not caring if it looked like I was pouting. When Harlow settled back into her seat, Mom served the pie, which I could only poke at because the stress was making my stomach hurt.
“So, Mom, where will the wedding be?” Mom asked.
Grandma exchanged delighted glances with Duke. “That’s another part of our surprise,” Grandma said. “We’re going to get married in Vegas.”
After the stir that news created settled down, Dad said, “So, Duke, can I be in charge of your bachelor party?”
Mom shot Dad a dirty look, but Duke smiled. “Absolutely.
We’ll make this a real family affair.” He paused, and then looked at me and Hayley and Harlow. “And girls,” he added, “I really hope that you’ll feel comfortable calling me Grandpa Duke.”
Chapter Twelve
I was sitting in my room stewing over Grandma’s news and Harlow’s reaction to my news when my cell phone rang.
The number wasn’t familiar, so I almost didn’t answer. But at the last second, I picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, baby, time for some of that one on one time.”
“Excuse me?” My heart thudded against my rib cage as I tried to place the voice.
“This is Hannah, isn’t it?”
“Um…yes.”
The laughter on the other end of the phone made me squirm.
There was nothing nice about it. “Well, come on over to my place, Hannah, and I’ll give you that one on one rehearsal time like I promised.”
Kyle. My breath hitched, even as I was about to say no.
“Give me half an hour,” I heard myself say.
****
Kyle’s house was really dark when I pulled up. His house was in one of the newer, ritzier subdivisions, so most of the houses were cookie cutter copies. I checked the scrap of paper with his address on it just to be sure I had the right house. Grabbing my purse, I hopped out of my car into the crunchy snow. The evening was surprisingly mild for early March, and the promise of spring in the air made me feel slightly romantic. The hope of it all put a bounce in my step. Maybe all of the things that I had learned about Kyle over the past month, all of the doubtful feelings, would evaporate like the piles of snow.
Ringing the doorbell felt monumental. I danced back and forth from foot to foot waiting for Kyle to open the door. When I realized what I was doing, I forced myself to stop. I didn’t want Kyle to think I had to go to the bathroom or something.
The door swung open rather dramatically, and Kyle positioned himself against the doorframe. He was wearing my favorite blue checked argyle sweater and brown cords. As he crossed his arms, I couldn’t help but think that even though he looked yummy, the forced sexiness didn’t work for me. Still, he did look yummy.
“Hannah,” Kyle drawled, “welcome to my humble abode.”
“Thanks.” Immediately I kicked myself. I probably should have done something horribly clichéd like giggle and twirl my hair.
How else would you respond to such a clichéd welcome? It just wasn’t in me to be so ditzy. Kyle hung my coat on a coat rack in the front hall.
“So, um, where are your parents?” I asked, following Kyle into his dimly lit living room. He had some jazzy music playing in the background. And because it felt like I’d just walked into a bad teen movie, I knew exactly where his parents were going to be.
“Church,” Kyle admitted. “They have prayer group tonight.”
Hmmm. Okay, I hadn’t quite seen that coming. Prayer group meant that they’d be home at a decent time, so Kyle’s bad teen movie couldn’t really go too far.
“So where do we start?” I asked.
“Right here,” Kyle grinned, indicating the couch. “I thought we could talk about your characterization of Kelly.”
I perched awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, while Kyle leaned back with exaggerated comfort, draping his arm along the back of the couch. I set my purse down on the floor. “Um…don’t you like what I’ve been doing?” I couldn’t breathe with Kyle in such close proximity. My tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of my mouth. There was nothing about Kelly that I hadn’t thought about. Seriously. She kept me up at night, trying to figure out every minute detail about her likes and dislikes. I’d even thought through how she felt about political situations. That’s right, I’d spent hours poring over web articles about the eighties.
“Oh, no, it’s great,” Kyle hurried to say. “I just think there is always so much more that can be done.”
Taking a deep breath, I inched back so that Kyle’s arm was basically around my shoulders. “Okay, give me some pointers,” I invited. Kyle smiled and leaned closer. Barely. I think it was probably a nanomillimeter, but he did lean closer. I could feel him.
He put a hand lightly on my bare knee. The contact made me squirm. It felt wrong. All of my warning sensors were going off, but I sat still and forced myself to see where this was going. I had wanted this with Kyle for three years. I had to at least give it a chance. “I really think you’re missing Kelly’s sexiness,” Kyle began.
His hand drifted microscopically higher on my knee.
“Oh?” I squeaked. Calming my voice, I tried again. “You wrote Kelly as incredibly innocent, though.”
“Well, yeah,” Kyle agreed. “But that’s what makes her so sexy. She’s innocent. A blank slate. It’s like she’s just waiting for a guy to teach her.”
Was he serious? “That sort of changes the story, doesn’t it?”
I asked, trying to focus on the supposed reason I was here in the first place, getting inside help to make the show better. “It changes it from a love story to a lust story, essentially.”
“Oh, come now, Hannah,” Kyle chided, leaning closer.
“Surely even you know that lust is really what love is all about.”
I swallowed. Had I really just heard him right? Lust is what love is all about? Kyle leaned even closer. I could smell the sour cream and chive potato chips he must have eaten earlier. He also smelled heavily of coffee. The combination of smells made me slightly nauseous. And in a second, I knew he was going to kiss me.
A little thrill shot through me. Kyle was actually going to kiss me!
His lips landed on mine hard and fast. He sought to deepen the kiss immediately, overwhelming me with a slurpy, slimey tongue. As he pressed me back against the couch, an overwhelming sense of panic bubbled up in my chest. This wasn’t how I’d pictured my first kiss with Kyle.
He was moving way too fast.
The thought registered as Kyle’s hands skimmed the front of my sweater roughly. As he jammed his tongue further down my throat, he slid his hand up between my knees.
My stomach twisted. This wasn’t how a first kiss was supposed to feel. Where were my fireworks? My heart felt like it was a jet plane in freefall. Why was Kyle doing this? As his fingers edged under the hem of my skirt, adrenaline kicked in.
“No!” I yelled, somehow managing to shove him off me. I scrambled off the couch, gasping for breath.
Kyle shot up after me, grabbing my arm hard and yanking me back toward the couch. I stumbled, catching my leg hard on the corner of the coffee table. Wincing, the pain sent another surge of adrenaline rushing through my body. I wrenched my arm away from Kyle, snatched my purse off the floor, and ran out the front door.
Suddenly the warm March night felt bitterly cold, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get away. Pulling my keys out of my purse, I fumbled with the lock, dropping them in the slush on the street. By the time I got my door open, Kyle had come to the door.
“Hannah!” He yelled after me. “You little slut! You’ll regret this!” I didn’t know what he meant, and I didn’t care. Pulling out on the street, tears blurred my eyes. My leg hurt and my heart ached. With the adrenaline pumping through my system, I cou
ldn’t go home yet. I considered calling Harlow, but I imagined she wouldn’t understand. And for some reason calling Kaylee or Maggie seemed humiliating.
Finally, I stopped at a light and wiped my tears hastily on the back of my hand. I knew who I wanted to call.
Pulling my phone out, I waited while it rang, trying desperately to control my sniffling and tears.
“Hey, Hannah, what’s up?” Josh said, sounding pleased that it was me.
“Um, hi, Josh,” I hiccupped. “I was wondering if you could, um, meet me at McDuffy’s.”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Josh said. “Do you want me to stay on the phone while I drive?”
“No, that’s okay,” I choked out, feeling immediately comforted.
We hung up, and I detoured to McDuffy’s, our local hang out. Josh pulled in a minute or two after me and hopped out of his car. He was wearing pajama pants and his letterman jacket. I was about to open my door when Josh pulled it open for me.
“What happened?” Josh asked, concern etching his voice as he helped me out of the car. I opened my mouth to tell him, but all that came out was a lot of blubbering. He shrugged out of his jacket, threw it around my shoulders, and pulled me into a hug. I sobbed into his shirt until I felt spent. When it felt like I’d cried my last tears, I pulled away from Josh and glanced up at him shyly.
“Let’s go inside,” Josh suggested. I nodded mutely, and let him guide me into the restaurant.
The hostess led us to a corner booth and left us with water and some menus. Josh took in my puffy, red face and shook his head slowly. As his eyes trailed down my body, he made a strange noise, and when I followed his gaze, I gasped. The ache in my leg was actually a gash about three inches long that was still oozing blood. Tears welled up in my eyes again. Taking charge, Josh carefully lifted my leg up onto the seat of the booth between us.
Dipping a napkin in his water, he began to clean the cut.
“What happened?” he asked again.
I shuddered. “This guy…” I began with a wavering voice.
“He tried to…but I wouldn’t let him…and I think I left my coat at his house.”