"We should go over there, cheer him up," Noah suggests.
"Are you sure?" I ask. It's not like he and Tony are friends, really.
"Yeah. We have to stick together, right?"
"Absolutely."
We call my brother, who's more than happy to take us to Tony's. (He also seems happy that I'm with Noah; I didn't know Jay had it in him.)
Tony's on the phone with Kyle when we get there. Caught up in the happiness of things, I almost tell Tony to invite him over. Then I realize what a colossally awkward move that would be (with Noah there) and keep my big mouth shut.
Even though Tony's parents aren't home, we stick to the kitchen. This works well, because we're all in high snacking gear. If we'd been stranded in the dining room, we'd be in big trouble.
"I have some news," Tony tells us. I love how he's welcomed Noah as if it's natural for him to be here. I love how Noah fits right in.
"What's your news?"
"I want to go to the Dowager's Dance."
This is news. Last year, Tony's parents wouldn't let him go.
"Great," Noah says. "You can come with us."
Tony sighs. "It's not that easy. You see, my parents say I can't go. But I want to go anyway. I don't want to sneak out--that would be a bad scene."
"So what are you--what are we going to do?" I ask.
"Here's the thing. I figure if enough people come to pick me up -- if my parents see it's a whole big group of girls and guys--then maybe they'll let me go."
"Sounds like a plan," I say. "We can gather everyone up."
"I'm in," Noah volunteers.
"As am I. Jay can drive us. I'm sure we can get Laura and Emily and Amy and Amber--"
"Who's Amber?" Tony asks.
I've forgotten how new Amber is to my life.
"She's this girl on the committee. You'll love her."
"Oh yeah--Kyle's told me about her."
I have to ask. "So will Kyle come, too?"
Tony nods. "He's in."
"And Joni?"
Now Tony's look wavers.
"I don't know," he says.
"Have you asked her?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
"She wants to. . .."
"But?"
"I don't think Chuck wants to."
"I don't see what one thing has to do with the other," I say. But of course I do. I know exactly what's going on, and it makes me furious. I am so angry at Joni right now. Words can't describe it. I don't mind her dissing me. Dissing Tony is beyond excuse.
I know Tony will feel even worse if I show him how bothered I am. So I start talking about the dance itself. Noah reaches into his book bag and takes out some of the photos he took in the cemetery. They are extraordinary--spooky but in a spiritual way. I can tell Tony's as impressed as I am. At one point when Noah has to go to the powder room (we figure this is allowed, even if it isn't in the kitchen), Tony gives me this all-knowing look and smiles.
"It's all because of you," I say. "You told me to show him and I did. Honestly, I wouldn't have trusted myself to do it if you hadn't suggested it."
"It was all you," he says back. "And was it worth it?"
I nod as Noah comes back into the room.
"What?" Noah asks, sensing he's walking into the middle of a conversation.
"Nothing," Tony and I say at once, then look at each other and laugh.
"We were just talking about you," Tony says.
"Only bad things, I assure you," I add.
Noah takes it in stride. After an hour of hanging out and home-working, Jay returns and Noah and I take our leave. Jay drops Noah off at his house; I walk him to the door. He ruffles my hair a little before he goes inside. I ruffle him back. We smile and say good-bye. We look forward to hello.
When I get back to the car, Jay turns for home. But I tell him we have one more stop to make.
I need to talk to Joni. Now.
Flicker
Joni's mom is surprised to see me. She also seems relieved.
"Paul!" she exclaims after opening the door. "It's so good to see you."
"You too," I say--and it's true. She's like a second mom to me. One of the hardest things about losing Joni is that I've lost my second family, too.
"Is Joni home?" I ask.
"She's upstairs. A couple of weeks ago, she asked me not to let you in if you ever showed up.
But you can come right in."
It's a sign of how little I know Joni anymore that I'm actually afraid of getting her mom in trouble.
"Are you sure?" I say to her.
"As sure as sure can be," she answers. "I know you two have had some sort of falling-out, and in my opinion the sooner you get past it, the better. So go right up. Chuck left about an hour ago. I think they're on the phone."
I don't ask Joni's mom what she thinks of Chuck--I know that's totally against the rules--but I sense from her voice that she's not his biggest fan. Or maybe I'm just hearing what I want to hear.
If you stripped me of my five senses, I would still be able to find my way to Joni's bedroom from the front door. The only thing that's changed since first grade is the size of my steps.
Her door is closed. I knock.
"Not now! I'm on the phone!"
I knock again. I 'can hear her walk across the room.
"One sec," she says into the phone. Then, "What is it, Mom?"
As she opens the door I say, "It's not your mom. It's me."
"I can see that," Joni deadpans. She doesn't put down the phone.
"I need to talk to you."
"I'm busy."
I want to hang up the phone for her. I restrain myself, and simply make it clear that I'm not going to leave.
She stares at me hard, then says "I gotta go" into the phone.
"There," she tells me as she hangs up. "Are you happy?"
Why are you doing this? I want to scream. What did I do to you?
I have to remind myself that this isn't about us. It's about Tony.
"I was just at Tony's," I say.
"I talked to him two days ago. Sounds like he's doing well."
I nod. "He's doing amazingly well."
"Thanks for the report."
I won't let her light my fuse. I won't be the one to blow up.
"I want to talk to you about the night of the dance. Tony wants us to pick him up. I want to make sure you can."
Joni shakes her head. "I don't think that's going to work out. Sorry."
"Sorry?!? That's it?"
"What else do you want, Paul?"
"Joni, this is Tony we're talking about. Do you know what hell he might have to go through in order to go to the dance?"
"I understand that. But I have other plans. I can support him in other ways. I don't need to be there."
Does she really believe this? I see a flicker of doubt in her eyes.
"Of course you need to be there," I stress. "This is the first time that Tony's ever asked us for anything, Joni. Anything. He's doing the one thing we've always wanted him to do--he's standing up to his parents. He wants us there. Both of us."
"If he'd come up with this idea a week ago, or even a few days ago, I might have been able to rearrange things. But we made promises, Paul. We made plans. I can't just back out."
"Why--won't Chuck let you?"
Joni straightens to full height. "Don't go there, Paul," she warns in an icy voice.
"Why not, Joni? After all, I'm not going to tell you anything you don't already know."
There. I am the one who crosses the line. I hope she's happy.
Now I have to leave before she tells me to get out. I need that, at least.
"You know the right thing to do," I say. Then I turn and leave. I don't slam the door. I don't stomp down the stairs. I don't forget to say good-bye to her mom, who gives me a true hug.
I walk home. Even though my jacket is warm, I shiver. Even though it's quiet out, my head is all noise.
Even though I want to hope for the b
est from Joni, I fully expect the worst.
And that's the saddest, maddest thing of all.
I manage to vent most of my feelings to Noah on the phone that night and try to keep the Joni situation out of my thoughts when I get to school the next day. There are only two more days until the dance, and there is lots of architecting to do before then.
We are not focusing on death; instead, we're surrounding ourselves with all the things that remain after death--words and stones and portraits and memories. The dowager's picture is the first thing we put up on the gymnasium walls. Everything else follows suit.
We avoid black. We want to enfold death in color. Kyle emerges from a supply cabinet with his arms swathed in blue drapery--his own tribute to the dowager. Instead of asking people to dress up in costume, we've asked them to wear heirlooms. I will wear my grandfather's watch and my grandmother's heart-shaped pin. In my pocket, I will carry a monogrammed handkerchief that my other grandfather took to war; alongside it will be a letter my grandmother wrote to him in those years, full of words of undying love. I like to think that as I dance, they will be in some way alive again. I will revive them with my thoughts and feelings.
We work hard for the next forty-eight hours. Amber handles the sound, weaving excerpts from grave books and Emily Dickinson into the tunes she's chosen. We are mirrored in other people's reflections.
Ted drops by to help. I catch him flirting with Trilby as they throw streamers over the rafters.
Infinite Darlene clucks her tongue from afar, but doesn't say a word.
Noah helps out, too. We've enlarged his photographs to hang in the corners, a way to draw people there. He catches me when I go to put mood candles in the space under the bleachers.
"Isn't that a fire hazard?" he asks.
"Shh," I reply, moving my finger to my lips, then letting it drop.
I light the candles. The air smells like vanilla mist. Noah reaches over to touch my cheek. His thumb moves over my lips and down the side of my neck. He leans me back against the wall and kisses me. I kiss him back hard. We breathe each other in. As the sound system tests itself out and orchids are floated atop the tables, we grasp at each other and explore each other and mark the time in movements and whispers. It's only when Trilby calls out my name that we stop.
"I guess the candles work," Noah says, pulling back and straightening his untucked shirt.
"Shh," I say again, my voice full of glimmer.
"Debauchery," he concludes with a smile. One of my dictionary words.
I always secretly believe that putting together a party is more fun than actually attending. As I tell" Trilby and Ted where the dancing skeletons should hang, I see how animated we've all become. Infinite Darlene is spinning tunes with Amber and Amy. Emily is unwrapping a gilt punch bowl. Kyle is taking a practice dance with the dowager's portrait. Noah is leaning against the gym wall, readying his camera for a shot. It seems a shame that we have to let other people into this world we're creating. Then I think of Tony, and I'm ready to open the doors.
One Small Step
Saturday night arrives and I look fabulous. I am wearing a secondhand tuxedo and a pair of shoes that shine like a Gibson guitar. I have folded a flower for Noah's lapel and have affixed my grandmother's pin with pride.
My parents are stunned when they see me. I don't look like a kid anymore. I don't look like an adult, either--but I definitely look older than a kid.
"Do you want to borrow one of my harmonicas?" my father asks (he always brings one to parties, just in case the going gets slow).
"Did you brush and floss?" my mother asks.
"Are you ready to go?" Jay says. He has a date of his own to pick up.
In the car, he thanks me.
"For what?" I ask.
"For tipping me off about you and Noah," he replies. (I had mentioned it to him, as promised, before Rip found out that Noah had asked me to the dance.)
"How much are you going to win?"
"Rip's going to owe me five hundred bucks."
"Five hundred?!?" I can't believe it. "Were the odds that much against me?"
Jay shakes his head. "No. I just bet a lot on the two of you."
Now it's my turn to say thanks. He's shown his faith, in his own twisted older-brother way.
We pick up his date, Delia Myers, who looks splendid in a purple spiral creation. She shows me a bracelet that belonged to her great-grandmother. It is the shape of two wings.
I am feeling nervous when I get to Noah's house. I still haven't met his parents. I wonder if this will be the night.
I ring the doorbell. Claudia answers. She looks surprised to see me so cleaned up.
"Is Noah home?" I ask.
"Duh," she replies.
She calls up to him.
"Your parents home?"
She shakes her head glumly.
"So I guess I should ask your permission," I say.
She looks at me like I'm a Martian. "For what?"
"To take Noah out."
"You don't need my permission."
"But I'd like it."
She looks me over again.
"I guess so."
That's all she'll give me, but I figure it's a start.
Noah comes down and I give him the flower. He hands me a photograph of a flower--it's beautiful, more vibrant in color than the real thing.
"I figured it will last longer," he says, gently placing it in my pocket.
Claudia fades into another room. Noah takes my hand.
"Let's go get Tony," he says.
We are almost out the door when Claudia returns.
"One second," she says. We turn to her and she holds up a camera. "I want to get a picture of the two of you."
She poses us by the staircase. She asks us to lean into each other, for me to put my hand on his shoulder. It's something so simple and everyday--smiling before the flash, checking to see if everything's in place. But for me it's a revelation. For the first time in my life, I truly feel part of a couple. I feel that Noah and I together are one thing. Posing for his sister's camera, heading down the front walk hand in hand to my brother's car--it's not something we have to think about. It feels natural.
Jay and Delia welcome Noah to the car and drive over to the block before Tony's. We'd all planned to meet up there and walk to his house together. Kyle is already there (I'll later find out he was the first to arrive). Infinite Darlene is there wearing a Grace Kelly gown. Trilby and Ted are there; their outfits don't match, but something in their expressions does. Amber looks amazing in a cocktail dress that used to belong to her great-grandmother, from her flapper days. Laura and her girlfriend are dressed as Hepburn and Hepburn. Emily and Amy are low-key in jeans and antique sweaters.
Joni is nowhere to be seen. The time has come for us to head to Tony's, but we don't move.
Those of us who know her are still waiting for her to come. Even though we don't say anything, I know that Ted is waiting and Infinite Darlene is waiting. We still don't think she would miss this. But it's looking like we're wrong. After five minutes, Kyle says we'd better go. To my surprise, he leads the way. I walk alongside him, and he shows me a ring that his aunt gave to her husband Tom. He let Kyle borrow it for the night. I thank him for showing me.
We get to the house. The cars are in the garage. Both his parents are home. Kyle steps aside so I can be the one to ring the doorbell. I am about to do it when I hear Joni's voice say, "I'm here." I turn to look at her. Chuck is at her side, looking displeased.
"Sorry I'm late," she adds.
"No worries," I say. Then I ring the bell.
Tony's mom answers. His dad is at her side.
"We've come to pick Tony up for the dance," I say.
Tony walks up behind them, dressed in his Sunday best.
"I see," his dad says, not sounding too happy. "And are you his date?"
"We're all his date," Joni answers.
Everyone steps forward. Girls and boys. Straight boys and a drag quee
n. My boyfriend. My ex-boyfriend. My brother. Me.
Boy Meets Boy Page 17