My Life After Now

21

Sunrise, Sunset




I’d just gotten to school and was stashing my afternoon books in my locker when Courtney walked by, holding hands with Steven Kimani. They were both grinning from ear to ear, and I had barely gotten over the shock of seeing Courtney with a boy when I noticed something else: her mouth was conspicuously metal-free.

I didn’t take my eyes off the new couple until they had walked through the double doors at the end of the hall and out of sight. I hadn’t known she liked Steven. I hadn’t even known they knew each other. How had this happened?

And the braces! Courtney had had braces since sixth grade. Every time she went to the orthodontist she came back in tears because her stubborn overbite forced him to keep pushing back the removal date.

But now it seemed she had the two things she’d always wanted, and I wasn’t a part of any of it.

I went up to her in homeroom and spoke to her for the first time in weeks. “Are you going out with Steven Kimani?” I said.

Courtney tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her smile. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t even know you liked him,” I said.

“Well, you haven’t exactly been around lately.”

“Don’t have sex with him, okay?” I blurted out. I don’t know what made me say it—it wasn’t even an appropriate response to her comment.

A shadow crossed Courtney’s face. “Excuse me?”

“Just…trust me. Nothing good can come of it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you!” Her voice was rising. “Go away, Lucy.”

Max came into the classroom right then.

He looked from Courtney to me, confused. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Lucy has decided that it’s somehow her business whether I do it with Steven or not,” Courtney announced, apparently not caring that people were starting to look.

I couldn’t help but notice Evan’s head snap up. He was listening to our every word.

“Never mind. I’m sorry I said anything,” I muttered, and walked out.

Max followed me down the hall.

“What do you want?” I barked, spinning on my heels.

“What exactly did you say to her in there?”

I sighed. “I told her not to have sex with Steven.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

I gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Listen, Lucy, just because things didn’t work out for you and Ty or Evan or that guitar guy doesn’t mean it won’t for Courtney and Steven. Just stay out of it. Don’t ruin this for her.”

I shook my head and gave a little sarcastic laugh. “You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Max, so why don’t you stay out of it?”

“Fine,” he said.

“Fine,” I said back.

We stared each other down there in the empty hallway for a suspended, unblinking moment, and for just the tiniest split-second I thought I saw something sad in his face, something that made me think that maybe he was just as unhappy as I was with the way things between us had deteriorated. But then it was gone, and the anger was back, and we went our separate ways.

• • •

“Lu! Dinner’s almost ready!” Dad called.

Reluctantly, I put my guitar down and slogged downstairs. The kitchen smelled amazing.

My dads had decided to forgo the usual full-day Thanksgiving marathon visit to both sides of the family and instead opted for cooking a small dinner at home. Not having to put on a happy-untroubled-teenager act for my grandparents was what I was most thankful for this year.

“The turkey just needs a few more minutes in the oven, and then we’ll be ready to eat,” Papa said, moving around the place settings to find room for the salad bowl.

I stared at the table. The roasted potatoes were there and so was the stuffing. But there was also an unfamiliar brownish puffy-looking thing in a casserole dish. “What’s that?” I asked.

“Lisa made it,” Dad said. “Wasn’t that nice?”

Nice and Lisa weren’t two words I’d put in the same sentence. “But what is it?”

“Steak and kidney pie,” Lisa said proudly.

“Steak and kidney pie,” I repeated, just to make sure I’d heard right.

She nodded. “It’s English. Try it.”

“Sounds…good,” I said, and turned my attention back to the actual edible food on the table.

Papa came in with the turkey. “Ta da!” he proclaimed, placing the turkey in the center of the table. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!”

The turkey was golden, cooked to perfection, and…revolting. A dead bird was lying in the middle of our kitchen table. A headless carcass, wings folded, innards confiscated. Those visible dark veins used to house pumping blood. A reminder that no matter where I looked, death was following me.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and fought the urge to bolt. “Papa,” I whispered, “can you get that thing out of here, please?”

“What thing? The turkey?” he asked.

“Yes.”

I could only imagine Dad and Papa’s silent exchange—they were probably engaging in a series of concerned glances and word-mouthing. There was some shuffling and clanking of dishes, and then Papa said, “Okay, it’s gone.”

I opened my eyes and blinked against the light. The turkey was nowhere to be seen. “Thanks,” I muttered.

“Lucy—” Dad began gently.

But I stopped him. “Let’s eat,” I said, and speared a potato with my fork. Dad and Papa seemed to understand that I didn’t want to talk about it, but Lisa was another story.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” she said.

Silence. Three pairs of curious eyes pointed my way. No one could explain it but me.

I did the only thing I could think to do. I held my breath and shoveled a heaping spoonful of steak and kidney pie into my mouth. It was the slimiest, most unappetizing thing I had ever tasted, but I forced a smile. “Delicious,” I said through a full mouth.

Lisa smiled widely with satisfaction and my dads relaxed.

Papa went into the kitchen to carve his turkey, Dad started spooning out the sides, and the four of us continued our English-inspired Thanksgiving.

• • •

Papa made me go back to the support group on Friday, even though I’d insisted it was pointless.

“Hi, Lucy,” June said when I walked in.

“Oh, um, hi,” I said. I was surprised she remembered my name; I hadn’t even spoken to her on Tuesday.

She smiled at me like she was waiting for me to start a conversation, so I said the first thing that came to mind. “Um, how’s your granddaughter?” And then I wanted to kick myself, because I realized that was probably the absolute wrong question to ask. But it was the only thing I knew about her, besides the fact that she had HIV or AIDS, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to mention that.

Luckily, though, June didn’t seem to mind the question. “She’s great, thank you for asking.”

I wondered if she had been allowed to hold her yet, but I didn’t dare ask.

“Lucy! You came back!” Roxie’s voice sing-songed from the other side of the room. She came over to where June and I were standing and handed me a mini bottle of water. I noticed that her nails were painted aqua blue today.

“Yeah,” I said.

Roxie checked the time on her cell phone. It was a flip phone, like the one Dad had had when I was a little kid. I hadn’t seen a phone like that in a long time—everyone I knew had smart phones now.

“All right everyone, let’s get started,” she called out to the room, and we found our seats. “Who would like to begin today?”

Unlike last time, no one spoke up.

“I’ll go first then,” she said. I found myself sitting up a little straighter in my chair, eager to hear what she was going to say.

“There was a blood drive at work on Wednesday.” She gave a you-all-know-where-this-is-going smile. “The head of my department, of all people, was the one who organized it, and actually closed our office for an hour so we could all go down and donate. I felt so…so stuck, you know? I didn’t want to look like this horrible person who was refusing to give blood for no good reason, but I didn’t want to tell anyone the truth, either. I haven’t been working there that long, but I know that if everyone found out, things would get real awkward real fast. And I really need this job.”

“So what did you do?” someone asked.

“I ended up going down there with everyone, like everything was all good, and then pretending to get super queasy and lightheaded at the sight of the blood bags. The technician was totally apologetic, but told my boss he couldn’t take blood from someone in my condition. Problem solved.” She grinned.

Roxie was being pretty good-natured about the whole thing, but I imagined myself in the same situation and knew it couldn’t have been easy for her. I felt a stab of sympathy and then realized that someday, maybe even sometime soon, I would be faced with a predicament like that too. Maybe it would be a blood drive, or maybe it would be something else. When you had HIV, everything was complicated. Even a simple day at work could turn into an ordeal.

A few more people shared and then there was another stretch of silence. I could feel it coming; I didn’t even have to look her way. Sure enough…

“Lucy, we’d love to get to know you a little better,” Roxie said. “Do you feel comfortable sharing tonight?”

I really didn’t want to talk. But all eyes were on me, and since I knew that Papa was going to keep making me come to these things, I figured I may as well spit out something now and get it over with rather than having Roxie single me out every time.

“I don’t really know what to say,” I admitted. “I’m new at this.”

“Why don’t you start with why you’re here,” Roxie suggested.

“I’m here because my parents are making me.” That got a few laughs.

“Points for honesty,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Right now?” I asked.

“Yeah. Right now, at this point in time, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling…a little cold, maybe, and sort of nervous. But other than that, totally fine.” I paused briefly, thinking. “You know, that’s what I’m having the hardest time with, I think. That the only reason I even know I have this disease at all is because someone told me I did. But I don’t feel it. I feel perfectly normal. If it’s really as bad as everyone says it is, shouldn’t I feel something?”

“Why question it, though? Why not just be grateful that you don’t feel any pain or illness?” she countered.

I shrugged. “I am grateful for that, I guess. But still, it feels wrong. I can’t explain it.”

“No, I get what you mean,” another lady said. I thought I remembered her introducing herself as Shelly. Or was it Sally? “It’s like, if you have cancer or heart disease or something, you know it. You probably got diagnosed in the first place because of your symptoms. But HIV is like this silent, deadly thing inside you.”

“No, that’s only how it is in the beginning. Just wait. It gets worse,” a thin man with dry lips said.

“I know. It gets a lot worse,” I said, remembering the photographs. “That’s the point. This healthy-feeling time now just feels like a tease. Like I’m in this holding pattern, flying in smooth circles within sight of the airport, in super-comfortable first class. But I can’t enjoy the in-flight movie or free chocolate chip cookies because I know that before the airport is able to make room for us, the plane is going to run out of fuel, and we’re going to crash-land into a fiery, agonizing death.”

The basement was completely silent.

“What?” I said.

“Wow,” Shelly/Sally breathed. “That’s exactly it. Are you a writer or something?”

I shook my head. “I’m an actor.”

• • •

After the meeting, I met my dads outside the church.

“How’d it go?” Papa asked.

“It was okay, I guess. I ‘shared’ this time.” I emphasized “shared” so he would know it wasn’t my word.

“That’s great, honey!” he said, giving me a one-armed hug as we began to walk down the street.

“We’re so proud of you,” Dad said, putting his arm around me too.

“Lucy!”

We all turned. Roxie was hurrying in our direction.

“Um, Dad, Papa, this is Roxie,” I said awkwardly when she reached us. “Roxie runs the meeting.”

I could tell they were surprised by her age, but they all shook hands and made their hellos. Roxie didn’t even blink when I introduced the two men in front of her as my parents.

“You said you’re an actor, right?” she asked, turning her attention back to me.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, I work for NYU. I’m just an admin, but if I work there for over a year I’ll get free tuition. I mean, I’ll have to get accepted first, and who knows if they’d even look twice at my GED, but my SAT scores are pretty good—”

“Um, Roxie?” I cut her off.

“Sorry. So they’re holding auditions tomorrow for their new ad campaign. It’s going to be huge—print ads, TV commercials, all kinds of fancy stuff. Mucho dinero. You’re totally the look they’re looking for—I know because I’m the one who’s been setting up all the audition appointments. I can probably get you in if you wanna come tomorrow.”

“Wow, really?” That sounded like exactly the distraction I needed. Just the prospect of getting to act in front of people who weren’t members of my own drama club had me instantly feeling more whole. “Yes, I definitely want to come.”

“Hold on a second, Lu. Aren’t you forgetting something?” Papa said.

Oh right. My first doctor’s appointment. “Can’t we reschedule?” I begged.

“Not a chance. You know what it took to get this appointment.” The office had been completely booked up for the next two months, but Papa, hot-shot lawyer that he was, called in a few favors and managed to get me in for Saturday morning.

The wind left my sails. “Thanks anyway, Roxie, but I have to go to the doctor tomorrow.”

“What time is your appointment?” she asked.

“Ten-thirty a.m.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. You can come to the audition after. I’ll be there till four.”

“Really?”

“Oh, totally. Give me your number, and I’ll text you all the details.”

We swapped phones and put our numbers into each other’s contact lists.

“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I said.

“Awesome! See you tomorrow!”