“Really? I mean, that’s a huge relief, but if I’m doing fine, why is Mom so upset?”
“Because parents have hopes and dreams for their children, and sometimes those hopes and dreams don’t match the ones kids have for themselves. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“That Mom is disappointed.”
“Yes, but what about you, Allie? Aren’t you disappointed in her too?”
I shook my head no, but tears leaked from my eyes. Deep down I knew the answer was yes.
Dr. Nichols looked down at her notes. “We made good progress today, Allie. What I’d like to do next is have you sit in the waiting room while I talk to your parents. Would that be okay?”
I nodded. “They need to talk about Eric too.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.
My parents were mostly quiet on the car ride back home. Mom’s eyes were red so I knew she’d been crying in Dr. Nichols’s office.
Dad weaved through expressway traffic with ease. After riding with Mom for so long, it was nice. “Can you turn on the radio?” As I stared out the window, Simon & Garfunkel’s “My Little Town” played. The song had a melancholy sound to match my mood. It reminded me nothing had changed in our town. It was about twenty years behind New Jersey.
“Do you think we should consult another therapist?” Mom asked.
“I like this one,” Dad said. “What do you think, Allie?”
“I like her too.”
As Dad drove west away from the city, there wasn’t nearly as much traffic. It seemed like a good time to talk. “What did Dr. Nichols have to say about me?”
“She was mainly trying to get to know us,” Dad said. “She did more listening than talking.”
“It was the same with me.”
Mom caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “Dr. Nichols said with enough love and communication, we can be closer than ever.”
That’s what I wanted too, but right then it seemed as impossible as being with Sam.
By the time we got home, I was tired of being analyzed and ready to be a normal kid again. “Can I walk to Phoebe’s house?”
Dad raised his eyebrows at Mom. “Is that okay with you?”
Mom tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was graying at the roots. I’d never noticed that before. “That’s fine, but be home in time for dinner,” she said.
I ran toward Phoebe’s, filling my lungs with gulps of fresh fall air. I didn’t think she’d mind that I was showing up uninvited. Her grammy always had plenty of cookies. I climbed the steps to the front porch, knocked, and waited.
When Sam opened the door, I had a surprise even better than fresh-baked cookies. A big smile spread across her face to match the one on mine. We couldn’t help it; just being in the same place made us happy.
“Come on in,” Sam said. “Phoebe is pouring the milk and Grammy’s taking cookies out of the oven.”
“What kind?”
“Macadamia nut.”
We took our milk and cookies to Phoebe’s room. She cleared away yarn and crocheted caps so we’d have a place to sit. “I’m still trying to convince Sam to ride in the Pioneer Days horse show,” she said.
“Has Penny’s leg healed enough?” I asked.
Sam nodded.
“Then you should do it.”
“Will you be there to watch me?”
“Yes.” Ribbit, ribbit.
“Ribbit, ribbit,” Sam answered.
“You’re both weird,” Phoebe said.
“And you’re our friend,” Sam said. “That makes you weird too.”
Phoebe laughed. “I guess it does. You’re going with Webb, right?”
The smile slid from my face. “Yeah.”
“You don’t seem too happy about it,” Phoebe said.
“I’m not, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“He’s a great dancer,” Phoebe said. “I danced with him a couple times last year.”
From the way Phoebe looked when she talked about Webb, I knew she would’ve loved going with him. It was too bad he’d asked me instead of her. I munched on one last cookie. “I have to go. I promised Mom I’d be home in time for dinner.”
“I’ll walk you part of the way,” Sam said.
My mood ring turned violet.
It started to drizzle, but Sam and I took our time. It reminded me of a song, “Laughter in the Rain.” I started to hum.
“I was thinking about that song too,” Sam said.
A lot had changed since the last time we had talked. I wanted Sam to know everything. “My dad got a new job and he’s moving here.”
“Are you happy about it?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m happy too.”
“That’s not all. My parents took me to see a counselor today.”
Sam stopped walking. Her eyes widened like a frightened deer.
“No, it wasn’t like when you talked to the youth leader at One True Way. It was good.”
Sam shook the raindrops from her hair. “Nothing could be as bad as that.”
“The counselor is supposed to help us learn to be a family again—a family that doesn’t live together. That’s what my parents said.”
“At least your parents know. I can’t talk to mine.”
“Dr. Nichols says safety first. That you shouldn’t tell if it would get you kicked out of the house, or only make your life harder.”
“They wouldn’t kick me out, but the counselor they’d take me to see would be someone who’d try to reprogram me into a different kid. That’s what scares me.” Sam stopped walking. “Allie, don’t look so serious. Watch this!”
She splashed through a puddle, just like a little kid. I laughed and followed her.
Sam turned and grabbed both my hands. “I wish you weren’t going to Pioneer Days with Webb.”
Webb. The mention of him always ruined everything. “I know, but Pioneer Days will still be fun. I can’t wait to watch you ride Penny.”
“Yeah, that will be the best part.” Sam dropped my hands and stuffed hers in her pockets. “I gotta tell you something too.”
It was bad news. I could tell by the way Sam frowned. “What is it?”
“Coach and Miss Holt are moving away after the holidays.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know exactly, but I bet it’s because of Mom and One True Way. Coach said it’s complicated. I always hate it when adults say that.”
“Me too. It’s what my parents said when they told me they were separating. Why can’t adults just tell us the real reasons?”
“They forget how to listen too,” Sam said. “My parents don’t understand me at all.”
It started to rain harder. We kept talking until we were both drenched. “I better go before we drown in the storm or Mom sends out a search party.”
“You’re right,” Sam said. “Bring Penny some carrots to the horse show.”
“I will. ’Bye, Sam.” Ribbit, ribbit.
“Ribbit, ribbit,” she answered.
During the rest of my walk home, I thought about Sam, and then Coach and Miss Holt. Why were they moving away? I needed to know the real reason.
I went early to our next newspaper staff meeting so I could talk to Miss Holt alone. It was tricky because we’d never discussed her relationship with Coach Murphy before.
I sat at a desk facing her and chewed on my pencil.
“Stop that. You’ll ruin your teeth.”
“You sound just like my mom.”
Miss Holt smiled. “Since I like your mother very much, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Are you really moving away?” I blurted out.
Miss Holt blinked a couple times. “I wasn’t expecting that question, but yes, yes we are.”
“But why? All the kids love you, and Sam really counts on Coach.”
Miss Holt blinked again, but this time she was blinking back tears. “We, Murph and I, don’t have the support of some of the paren
ts, and it would be difficult for the administration to stand behind us.”
“Is it because …” I wasn’t sure how to put it into words without embarrassing her or crossing some forbidden line.
“We really shouldn’t discuss this any further,” Miss Holt said. “If Murph and I leave without making a fuss, we’ve been promised good recommendations. That’s the best we can hope for.”
“We’ve got to do something!” I said. “I’ll ask all the kids to write letters to the principal and the school board. I’ll—”
Miss Holt shook her head. “No, Allie. The more attention you draw to Murph and me, the less likely it is we’ll get the good recommendations we’ve been promised. And without those, getting other teaching jobs will be difficult.”
Dr. Nichols had said safety first, but I hadn’t realized it applied to adults too. “But where are you going?”
“To a city. Living under small-town scrutiny doesn’t work well for people like us.”
If it didn’t work for two adults, two twelve-year-olds didn’t stand a chance. I needed to talk to Dr. Nichols. Somehow Sam and I had to change before bad things happened to us too.
A week later, it was back to Dr. Nichols’s office. I sat facing her in the same brown leather armchair I’d sat in last time. I had thought a lot about Coach Murphy and Miss Holt. How they had to either move or lose their jobs without recommendations. “Is being gay a choice?”
Dr. Nichols answered my question with a question. “Did you choose how you feel about Sam?”
“No, it snuck up on me, but if I tried really hard, maybe I could make myself like boys.” I’d started wearing a rubber band around my arm, and every time I imagined kissing Sam, I snapped myself with it.
“I’ve treated patients who conformed to what society expected of them.”
“Do you think I should do that?”
“That’s ultimately up to you. How much happiness are you willing to give up to fit in?”
That was an even bigger question than the one I’d asked. “I’m not sure. I just want to be happy again, and I want everyone else to be happy too.”
“You are not responsible for making everyone else happy,” Dr. Nichols said. “What I’ve observed is that repressing your feelings is like putting a lid on them. If you do, you’ll never know exactly how much love you are capable of giving or receiving.”
I liked what Dr. Nichols said, but in my case she was wrong. Since Eric died and Dad left, I was responsible for making Mom happy. And to be honest, it wasn’t just about Mom. I didn’t want to suffer like Coach and Miss Holt. Being gay was too hard.
Pioneer Days started on Friday night. Main Street was barricaded, so cars had to park on the side streets. The merchants lit their shops with kerosene lamps and dressed in old-fashioned clothes. Most of them served apple cider or coffee. I was saving my costume for the next day.
Webb reached for my hand. “Hungry?” he asked.
“Yes.” My heart didn’t beat faster like when I was with Sam, but it was still nice.
Webb stopped at one of the booths and ordered hamburgers and lemonades. We sat at a picnic table with Big D and a stuffed collie dog.
“Where did that come from?” I asked.
“Won it at the basketball toss,” Dwayne answered. “Thought I’d give it to Jenny. She’s in the hospital again.”
“That’s a stupendous idea,” Webb said.
Hearing about Jenny caused sad feelings to gush from my heart and fill my whole chest. I had started donating part of my allowance to St. Jude, and after reading my newspaper article so had lots of other kids.
Big D shot an imaginary basket. “Stripped the net three times in a row. That ball swished through the air smooth as silk. Sam won a dog too. Gave it to her little brother.”
One mention of Sam and my heart beat faster. I looked down the crowded street, but there was no sign of her. “Where’s the horse show?”
“The big field beside the community center,” Webb said. “It’ll start tomorrow morning.” He pulled the program out of his jacket pocket and took a look. “At ten o’clock.”
Webb and I finished our burgers and shuffled down Main Street. I kept my eyes peeled, hoping for a glimpse of Sam. Little kids bobbed for apples, and we stopped to watch for a while. The air was full of good smells: cotton candy, caramel apples, salty pretzels, and funnel cakes.
We strolled toward a bluegrass band playing on a stage at the end of Main Street. “Why are you wearing a rubber band around your wrist?” Webb asked.
Trying to think of a good excuse, I snapped myself with it a couple of times. “Uh, um, I was helping Mom organize her files and forgot to take it off.”
The fiddle moaned a sad song about a girl who died young. A few couples danced in front of the stage. Webb reached for my hand again. “Want to dance?”
I watched the other couples over his shoulder. Melissa was dancing with a dark-haired boy. She had her eyes closed and a dreamy smile on her face. I should have felt that way about Webb, but I didn’t.
When the song ended, Melissa caught me staring at her. Our eyes locked. She knew I’d rather be dancing with Sam. Melissa grabbed her boyfriend’s hand and headed toward us. She probably hated me for being with Webb. I didn’t blame her.
Mom got there first. Her face was glowing. “Allie, Webb, I loved watching you dance! Practicing together really paid off.”
Melissa listened and watched.
My brain couldn’t make my mouth work. I wanted to scream at Mom, to beg her to stop. But I froze. I wanted to tell Melissa that I still liked Sam, but kids like us turned into adults like Coach and Miss Holt, adults that got hurt. But I didn’t. I didn’t say a word.
Mom reached into her pocket and pressed ten dollars into my hand. “Here, I want you to have a good time this weekend.”
Melissa shook her head. When she turned away, I almost went after her to explain. Almost.
Webb walked me home around nine o’clock. We climbed the steps to the front porch, and I reached into my pocket for the house key.
“I had a great time tonight,” Webb said.
“Me too.” It seemed like the polite thing to say, but it hadn’t been a great night—more like okay.
Webb pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Saturday is the best part of Pioneer Days. Nearly everyone will be in costume. The horse show is a bit smelly, but the square dancing is stupendous.”
Why did he have to be so fussy? The horse show would smell like a barn: hay, manure, and leather. It would remind me of learning to ride Penny. “I have an old-fashioned dress for tomorrow. I borrowed it from Sam’s sister.”
“I bet you’ll look beautiful in it.” Webb bent down and kissed my cheek. “See you tomorrow, Allie.”
No racing heart, no sweaty palms, no tingling cheek. Nothing. Was it possible for me to change? Did I even really want to? I put my arms around Webb’s neck to find out.
His eyes nearly bugged through his glasses, and his shoulders shook. I screwed up my courage and kissed him.
“Allie,” he breathed, “that was mag … magnificent.”
His sweet smile, and the way he stuttered “mag … magnificent,” made me feel like the biggest traitor since Benedict Arnold. “Oh … oh no!” I rushed into the house so he wouldn’t see me cry.
The community center was about a half mile away from downtown. I could have walked, but Mom insisted on driving me. “I wanted to talk to you alone,” she said. “Without Dad.”
I popped my wrist with the rubber band a couple of times. “What about?”
“Dad will be moving into his apartment next week.”
I wanted to curl into a little ball and cry. Instead I shrugged.
“Allie, it’s okay to be sad.”
I couldn’t talk to Mom about all the pain punching holes in my heart. Dad moving out again made me anxious, like when Sam was lost. And the way things turned out for Coach and Miss Holt made me afraid of growing up gay, but kissing Webb had been the oppos
ite of magnificent. It had been a lie.
“Dad will still be close by,” Mom continued. “You can walk there every day if you want to.”
I didn’t want to see Dad. I didn’t want to see anybody. Not Webb or Sam either. I was too confused.
Traffic crawled toward the community center. We finally came to a dead stop behind a long line of cars. “This is close enough. I can walk the rest of the way.”
Mom reached out and patted my arm. “I hope today is as much fun for you as last night. I loved watching you dance.”
Mom had seen what she wanted to see. That made me boiling mad! Why didn’t she look deeper?
“Dad’s moving is hard for me too,” Mom said. “I had hoped we could work things out.”
“Then why didn’t you try harder?” I snapped. “When Eric died, it was all about the two of you. And now it’s not about me, but the way you feel about Sam and me. Why don’t my feelings ever count as much as yours?”
Mom looked as stunned as if I’d slapped her. “I’m sorry, Allie. Children don’t come with an instruction manual. I’m doing the best I can here. It’s one of the reasons we’re seeing Dr. Nichols.” Mom slammed the steering wheel with her fist. “Maybe we should skip Pioneer Days and go home.”
“No! I don’t want to go home with you. I have a date with Webb.”
“Allie!”
I slammed the car door, and instead of going to the horse show, I ran toward church. Reverend Walker knew about Mom and Dad. She was Coach and Miss Holt’s friend, and she’d been there the night Sam ran away. If anybody could help me, she could.
Our church had gotten into the spirit of Pioneer Days. A red wagon was parked out front, holding bales of hay, pumpkins, gourds, and dried corn. I kicked the wagon wheel. Hard. A sign on the front said, COME YE THANKFUL PEOPLE COME. I was not thankful.
I hurried around back to Reverend Walker’s office. She stood staring out the window, as if she’d been waiting for me. “Come in, Allie. I like your dress.”
I took a couple deep breaths to calm down. “Melissa let me borrow it.”
“I was just headed over to the horse show,” she said. “I’m surprised you’re not already there.”
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