Читать книгу A Little Friendly Advice - Siobhan Vivian, Siobhan Vivian - Страница 7

Maria makes a left onto Copley Road, Akron’s main drag. We drive for a few minutes until a three-story-high neon bowling pin sprouts out of the ground. We’re approaching Akron Pinz and I’m ready to salvage what little time is left on my birthday clock. I honestly don’t care about anything else.

Akron Pinz is a notorious weekend hangout. It has a huge parking lot, which is key for scoping out who might be there at any given time. It’s also a total dive, with few patrons to hassle us or, worse, report our antics. Best of all, the bowling alley is butted up against a large and dense park, which provides lots of natural camouflage.

The place is totally deserted tonight, except for a couple of cars cuddled together underneath the single spotlight illuminating the lot. We pull past them and come to a stop at the very edge of the park, near a small wood-chip-strewn playground erected in honor of a little kid who died of cancer two years ago. You can always find flowers tied up to the chain-link fence. I usually try not to look at them, because it’s totally depressing. But tonight, they momentarily steal my attention away from the impending birthday fun. They’re just like the ones my dad brought for me, except white.

Beth and I kick out on two creaky rubber swings, while Katherine climbs on top of the monkey bars. Maria flops onto a bench across from us, her face fuzzy in the darkness. A glimpse of purple satin underwear peeks out from her jean skirt.

“So what am I in store for tonight?” I ask Maria, pointing at the stuffed knapsack next to her. It’s partially unzipped and a few plastic bags are popping out. “Are we partying it up Dollar Store style?” I’m sure I sound suspiciously cheery.

Maria hesitates and pulls the knapsack onto her lap, like she’s not sure if it’s okay to ignore what just happened back at my house, now that the adrenaline’s worn off. But Beth leaps up from her swing, races to Maria’s side, and gives her a little nudge. With Beth’s blessing, Maria suddenly can’t fight the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. She unzips the bag and pulls out an opaque green bottle of champagne. A dozen curly pink ribbon strings are wrapped around the neck.

“Whoa! Where’d you get that?” I’ve never really drunk before, except for the couple of dented cans of warm beer we smuggled out of Beth’s garage at her family’s last Fourth of July barbecue. Never something as fancy as this.

“Nothing’s too good for your Sweet Sixteen!” Beth commandeers the bottle, her tiny hands cradling the neck. The cork pops off and sails into the darkness. “And you better remember that next week, when it’s my birthday.”

Katherine grabs the bottle from her and presents it to me with some grand game-show hand gestures that make everyone laugh, even me. “Seriously though, my mom’s boss sent it to her for helping him on the weekend with some report. Lucky for us, I was the only one home when the delivery guy showed up.”

“Isn’t that cool?” Beth says, jumping up and down behind Katherine. “We should totally do this kind of stuff more often!”

I spend a second translating the label before I remember that I barely passed French my freshman year. I take a deep, celebratory sip. The crisp, appley bubbles swill and expand in my mouth, more than I expect them to. Some overflow dribbles down the front of my white T-shirt.

“Nice one,” Katherine snarks, shielding a freshly lit match from the wind with cupped hands.

I am ordered to sit and drink while my friends set up a total old-school park birthday party, the kind little kids have in the springtime. My mind tries to wander back to my house, to think about what might be going on there between my mom and dad, but I don’t let it. Instead, I lock onto the details around me. Maria hangs streamers from low branches. Katherine strings up a star-shaped piñata from the monkey bars. Beth duct-tapes Pin the Tail on the Donkey to a big gnarly oak. I wish I hadn’t left my camera at home. I want to make sure this is what I remember about tonight.

“I can’t believe you guys went to all this trouble for me,” I say, taking another sip. The bottle is nearly half empty. I guess I should slow down.

“I can’t believe you still feel like celebrating,” Maria says in a quiet voice, and chucks a roll of streamers over a low branch. “Not like I know the history or anything, but what was that all about?”

“No clue,” I say, and pull my arms inside my sweatshirt.

Beth rips off a piece of duct tape with gritted teeth. “All guys are the same. It’s like they’ve got special radar and, when they sense you’re completely over them, they show up again just for the sake of messing with your head.” She pauses to take a sip from my bottle. “Pete Southern did the same thing about a month after he dumped me. But it was beyond too late for any apologies. Right, Ruby?”

Pete was Beth’s first and only boyfriend. They dated for about two months last year and their unexpected breakup was really hard on her. I guess there are a few similarities. The tip of my nose feels icy, so I pull my head down into my T-shirt like a turtle to warm it up. I can make out Beth’s shape through the thin cotton.

She takes a step toward me. “Ruby, you know there isn’t an I’m sorry big enough in the entire world to ever make up for how he bailed on you and your mom.”

It’s true. My dad is a total loser and not at all worth any of my waning birthday hours. But I don’t want to start some big discussion about this. I pop my head out and walk back over to sit down on a swing.

“It just seems so random,” Maria says. “I think —”

Beth interrupts her with a heavy sigh. “Listen, the worst thing we could do is let him ruin Ruby’s birthday.”

“I totally agree,” I say, pumping my legs and picking up some speed. “It’s a nonissue. It’s over. So let’s quit talking about it, okay?”

Katherine picks a scab off her elbow. “Why’d your dad leave in the first place?”

Beth sticks her finger up in the air. “Okay. Wait up. If we’re going to talk about this, no one can refer to him as Ruby’s dad. Because he’s not. He’s essentially a stranger.”

It’s weird to hear someone say that about your dad. But Beth’s right. He hasn’t been that for a long, long time, and I’ve got to keep reminding myself of it.

Katherine rolls her eyes. “Well, what should we call him then? What’s his name?”

“It’s Jim,” I say.

“Fine. Then why’d Jim leave in the first place?”

Maria’s head perks up.

There’s no way to hide the pissy tone in my voice, so I don’t even try. “I don’t know, Katherine. I guess he fell out of love with my mom.” What a stupid question.

“He doesn’t pay child support, does he?” Maria drags a stick through the dirt.

“Not really.” I think we used to get money orders every so often. But not for a long time. That’s why Mom is always at the hospital, picking up extra shifts.

“Maybe this will help your mom finally move on.” Maria crosses, then uncrosses her legs. “’Cause, I mean, she’s totally hot. And she doesn’t ever date. Right?”

The party scene whirls past my eyes as I swing higher and higher. “Right. She doesn’t.” I make my voice sound as flat as possible, so Maria and Katherine will get the hint already and remember that this is my party, not a therapy session. Maria shoots me an apologetic smile and returns to streamer duty.

For a second, I feel bad. I know Maria has a lot of questions about my family situation. Maybe it’s weird that we’ve never really talked about it before, even though I consider her a close friend. The thing is, I don’t have any details to give. Dad left, Mom’s heart was broken, she completely shut down, and I went a little bit crazy dealing with everything on my own. But I eventually learned how to handle it, with Beth’s help. The whole story ended tonight with me walking out that door. The beginning doesn’t matter anymore.

My swing creaks back, blowing my hair across my face. At the apex, Katherine materializes dead center before me. I rush forward and grind the toes of my Converses into the wood chips to keep myself from plowing into her. The world catches up to me in three-second swirling delay.

I’m pretty tipsy.

Katherine’s forehead creases with deep thought. “But what about you, Ruby?”

I use my sneaker to smooth the splayed wood chips around me. My hands feel clammy around the cool metal chains. “What about me?”

“He fell out of love with your mom. I get that. But why’d your dad leave you?”

Katherine might as well have kicked me in the chest. I can’t seem to catch my breath.

“Not cool, Katherine,” Maria says, and rolls her eyes.

“Seriously,” Beth says.

Katherine puffs up. “What? That’s a valid question! Lots of people get divorced, but still stay close to their kids. I mean, that’s why my dad’s getting an apartment across town.”

Beth runs over and stands next to me. “Katherine, your situation is completely —” she begins, but then her cell phone rings. She fishes it out of her pocket and holds the screen up to my face.

My home number.

I shake my head, unable to push words out of my mouth. She hands the phone to Maria, who answers it and drifts away toward the fence.

“Listen. None of this is about Ruby,” Beth says. “Jim’s having some stupid midlife crisis. He’s trying to make himself feel better so he can go on with his life somewhere else.”

“Sure,” Katherine says quietly, before tipping her head back and taking a huge sip of champagne. “I guess that could be it.”

“That is it,” Beth insists. “And the best part is that Ruby didn’t let him off the hook.” She pats me on the back. “Tonight was the best thing that could have happened for you, Ruby. Trust me.”

Maria returns, pushing aside a clump of dangling streamers. She forces a smile.

“What did her mom say?” Beth asks.

“She wanted to make sure Ruby is okay. And that we’d have her home by midnight. She sounded totally normal. Not crying or anything.”

I’m not surprised. Mom doesn’t cry in front of me. She’s definitely not going to be all blubbery to Maria. Still, seeing Dad had to be hard for her. “Was he there?” I ask, suddenly finding my voice. Because seeing him leave us again would be even worse.

Beth cocks her head to the side. “Do you want him to be there?”

Something about the way Beth asks this question makes me think it’s a trick. I feel like the answer tattooed on my heart is maybe. Or maybe even yes. But I focus on the good-for-me answer, the one my brain is screaming, the one I know is right. “No. I don’t.”

Beth rewards me with a hug.

“Well, she didn’t say either way,” Maria tells me. Then she adds, “Sorry, Ruby. I should have asked her that.”

I guess I look pretty pathetic, all glum and hunched over, clinging to the swing like a little kid. Beth steps on the toes of my sneakers. She takes my hands and shakes out my arms. Then, tipping her weight back, she pulls me up off the swing. “I’d be a pretty terrible friend if we didn’t have some fun tonight. So let’s get to it already and put all this behind you for good.”

We make the best of our final hour. We freeze-dance in the headlights while Katherine mans the car stereo. We prank everyone in Maria’s phone. Gifts are given. Beth has knitted me a skinny, gray wool scarf with butter-yellow ribbons laced through the stitches. It’s instantly the prettiest thing I own. Maria has bought me an old Cooper Rubber T-shirt from Revival, our town’s vintage resale store. Katherine is presentless, but writes me an IOU for a CD of my choice on a napkin she finds in the Volvo’s glove compartment. After the last few sips of my champagne, I cheat at Pin the Tail on the Donkey, but lose anyway. Everyone takes a swing at the piñata with a splintered tree branch. Katherine finally cracks it with a tire iron she finds in Maria’s trunk. We wrestle on the ground for the candy necklaces, plastic bracelets, and super bouncy rubber balls that rain down.

I use up the last of my energy to convince myself that I am actually having a good time. If for nothing more than to spite him. Then I spend most of the ride home semi-passed out against the passenger-side window, my forehead sticking to the glass. I can hear the conversations around me, but I can’t muster the energy to participate.

“Did you like your champagne, birthday girl?” Maria rustles my hair, and it feels like a tornado across my scalp.

“A little too much, I think,” Beth says, smoothing my bangs and securing them off my face with one of her bobby pins.

“I love you guys,” I mumble.

“That’s just the liquor talking,” Maria jests.

“Here, take this.” The strong scent of mint tickles my nose. I open my bleary eyes and Katherine hands me a mouthwash strip sandwiched between two pieces of gum. “Your mom won’t smell anything on your breath but spearminty freshness. Trust me, it works every time.”

Though it takes a lot of effort, I manage to thank her.

The Volvo shuffles over a wide set of train tracks and we’ve arrived at my street. A respectful silence blankets us as everyone looks at my house. I cover my eyes with my hand but end up peeking through my fingers. The house is dark, the driveway is empty.

Before they say good-bye, all of the girls invite me to sleep over in case I don’t want to go home. I turn them down with a barrage of mumbled and embarrassed thank-yous because I’ve got nothing to run from.

I use the spare key hidden over the porch awning to enter the house. The television in my mom’s bedroom softens. She doesn’t want to talk, only to know that I am home safe. I do her the favor of helping myself to the noisiest glass of water imaginable.

Tonight’s Polaroids are in a stack next to an ashtray in the kitchen. There is only one cigar butt mashed inside, but the entire room reeks like a chimney. I empty the ashtray and think about throwing away the pictures too, knowing the one of Jim is shuffled somewhere in the pile. But I decide against it and hide them in the silverware drawer, in case tonight is really the last time I ever see him.

The thought of that, or maybe the smell of smoke, brings tears to my eyes.

I crack the window before heading up to bed, because I definitely don’t want to smell this in the morning.