you?”
“Pretty hard to forget. A nasty group of boys had her backed into the corner in that horrid place at the high school where we used to all go to smoke.
“I mean, I didn’t go there to smoke. I was Moose Run High’s official Goody Two-shoes.”
“No kidding,” he said drily. “Do not elbow my ribs again. They are seriously bruised.”
They sat there in companionable silence for a few minutes. The sun demanded their stillness and their silence. The sunset was at its most glorious now, painting the sky around it in shades of orange and pink that were reflecting on a band on the ocean, that seemed to lead a pathway of light right to them. Then the sun was gone, leaving only an amazing pastel palette staining the sky.
“Go on,” he said.
Becky thought she was talking too much. Had they really drunk that whole bottle of wine between the two of them? Still, it felt nice to have someone to talk to, someone to listen.
“I was taking a shortcut to the library—”
“Naturally,” he said with dry amusement.
“And I came across Bram Butler and his gang tormenting poor Allie. I told them to cut it out.
“Allie remembers me really giving it to them. She told me that for a long time she has always thought of me as having the spirit of a gladiator.”
“I’ll attest to that,” he said. “I have the bruises on my ribs to prove it.” And then his tone grew more serious. “And you never gave up in the water yesterday, either.”
“That was because of you. Believe me, I am the little bookworm I told you I was earlier. I do not have the spirit of a gladiator.”
Though she did have some kind of unexpected spirit of boldness that had made her, very uncharacteristically, rip off her clothes and go into the water.
“How many guys were there?”
“Hmm, it was years ago, but I think maybe four. No, five.”
“What were they doing?”
“They kind of had her backed up against a wall. She was quite frightened. I think that stupid Bram was trying to kiss her. He’s always been a jerk. He’s my second cousin.”
“And you just waded right in there, with five high school guys being jerks? That seems brave.”
She could not allow herself to bask in his admiration, particularly since it was undeserved.
“I didn’t exactly wade right in there. I used the Moose Run magic words.”
“Which were?”
“Bram Butler, you stop it right now or I’ll tell your mother.”
He burst out laughing, and then so did she. She noticed that it had gotten quite dark. The wind had died. Already stars were rising in the sky.
“Allie and I hung out a bit after that,” she said. “She was really interesting. At that time, she wanted to be a clothing designer. We used to hole up in my room and draw dresses.”
“What kind of dresses?”
“Oh, you know. Prom. Evening. That kind of thing. Allie and her mom moved away shortly after that. She said we would keep in touch—that she would send me her new address and phone number—but she never did.”
“You and Allie drew wedding dresses, didn’t you?”
“What would make you say that?” Becky could feel a blush rising, but why should she have to apologize for her younger self?
“I’m trying to figure out if she has some kind of wedding fantasy that my brother just happened into.”
“Lots of young women have romantic fantasies. And then someone comes along to disillusion them.”
“Like your Jerry,” he said. “Tell me about that.”
“So little to tell,” she said wryly. “We lived down the street from one another, we started the first grade together. When we were seventeen he asked me to go to the Fourth of July celebrations with him. He held my hand. We kissed. And there you have it, my whole future mapped out for me. We were just together after that. I wanted exactly what I grew up with, until my dad left. Up until then my family had been one of those solid, dull families that makes the world feel so, so safe.
“An illusion,” she said sadly. “It all ended up being such an illusion, but I felt determined to prove it could be real. Jerry went away to college and I started my own business, and it just unraveled, bit by bit. It’s quite humiliating to have a major breakup in a small town.”
“I bet.”
“When I think about it, the humiliation actually might have been a lot harder to handle than the fact that I was not going to share my life with Jerry. It was like a second blow. I had just barely gotten over being on the receiving end of the pitying looks over my dad’s scandal.”
“Are you okay with your dad’s relationship now?”
“I wish I was. But they still live in Moose Run, and I have an adorable little sister who I am pathetically jealous of. They seem so happy. My mom is still a mess. Aside from working in the hardware store, she’d never even had a job.”
“And you rushed in to become the family breadwinner,” he said.
“It’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“An admirable thing. And kind of sad.”
His hand found hers and he gave it a squeeze. He didn’t let go again.
“Were you thinking of Jerry when you were drawing those dresses?” he finally asked softly.
“No,” she said slowly, “I don’t think I was.”
She suddenly remembered one dress in particular that Allie had drawn. This is your wedding dress, she had proclaimed, giving it to Becky.
It had been a confection, sweetheart neckline, fitted bodice, layers and layers and layers of filmy fabric flowing out in that full skirt with an impossible train. The dress had been the epitome of her every romantic notion. Becky had been able to picture herself in that dress, swirling in front of a mirror, giggling. But she had never, not even once, pictured herself in that dress walking down an aisle toward Jerry.
When Jerry had broken it to her that her “business was changing her”—in other words, he could not handle her success—and he wanted his ring back, she had never taken that drawing from where it was tucked in the back of one of her dresser drawers.
“I’ve talked too much,” she said. “It must have been the wine.”
“I don’t think you talked too much.”
“I usually don’t confide in people so readily.” She suddenly felt embarrassed. “Your name should be a clue.”
“To?”
“You drew my secrets right out of me.”
“Ah.”
“We have to go now,” she said.
“Yes, we do,” he said.
“Before something happens,” she said softly.
“Especially before that,” he agreed just as softly.
Her hand was still in his. Their shoulders were touching. The breeze was lifting the leathery fronds of the palm trees and they were whispering songs without words. The sky was now almost completely black, and finding their way back was not going to be easy.
“Really,” Becky said. “We need to go.”
“Really,” he agreed. “We do.
Neither of them moved.