Festivities started around two and lasted until midnight. Ben loved being surrounded by the swirl mainly because he never had to explain himself. He could talk with the relations or sit and read in a corner. Haley always thrived in the commotion. She had cousins in her age range. The little-little kids would always put on a show that usually ended in tears and a meltdown.
Of all the relatives, he identified the most with his grandpa Ed. The old man was seventy-four, but as quick-witted as a man a third his age. After the meal, while others were involved in football, Grandpa would steal him away to his laboratory, better known as a three-car garage, and show his favorite grandson his latest invention, some variant of a rocket and rocket launcher. Then they’d talk about how to improve it, making drawings, doing calculations, redesigning body shapes to reduce friction and wind drag, and increasing the horsepower of the engines to accept bigger payloads and improve efficiency. Lost in a sea of numbers, neither one brought up the elephant in the room.
When it was time to go, Ben always felt a wisp of sadness. It was silly. He could see his family anytime, but he rarely did. The forced intimacy was good, but he couldn’t quite figure out a way to make it happen on his own. He was constantly fighting against an inclination to isolate himself.
Man was a social animal. Some animals were more social than others.
If he was going to have to suffer through a high school football game, he wanted to make the kickoff, being precise and methodical. The two little girls had gone shopping on Black Friday and had come back an hour late, loaded down with bags of bargains, adding clothes to their already stuffed drawers. It was their first homecoming dance and Ben knew it was a big deal. Still, he hated being late. The kickoff was at two. They had ten minutes before the official clock started.
He pounded on Haley’s door. “When?”
“One minute!”
Nothing made him more edgy than waiting, and his eyes darted around with unspent energy until they abruptly focused on the door to Ellen’s room.
Something spiritual grabbed him. He turned the knob and went inside.
Pink bedspread, heart-shaped pillows, three stuffed animals—her elephant, her monkey, and her teddy. The white bookshelves were filled with young-adult paperbacks popular three years ago as well as some classics—Jane Austen, Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo, Charlotte and Emily Bront?, Daphne du Maurier, and Edgar Allan Poe.
Ellen always had a penchant for gothic literature.
There were scattered candles and lots of pictures showing family vacations in Colorado, Arizona, Montana, and even one in L.A. when his parents took them to Disneyland. He and his sisters stood in front of the Mickey Mouse flowers at the entrance to Main Street—three kids in shorts and Tshirts ready to have fun. There was her eighth-grade graduation photo, her smile one of genuine glee.
He looked away.
The closet still contained her clothing, and her shoes were still lined up perfectly and with compulsive neatness. Folded sweaters and sweatshirts were in the drawers. There was her iPod in her pink iPod case. There was her cell-phone case. There were her pens, pencils, scratch paper, knickknacks, and leftover money that she’d never spend. Posters as well as pithy sayings still hung on the walls. Her schoolbooks and her sheet music for choir sat on her desk. He swept his finger across the top. Not an ounce of dust. Mom cleaned the room regularly. But no one had the heart or the energy or the desire to do the obvious. The shrine remained intact. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall.
He no longer cared if they were late or not. The girls would come out when they were done. The main thing was that they’d come out.
Because it was the homecoming game, empty seats were hard to find. There was no way he was going to sit with a bunch of fourteen-year-old girls. Equally unattractive was sitting with his classmates watching James David massacre the opposition. The man had talent and Duke was a good choice. In a couple of weeks, he’d get the acceptance letter. Then he’d be gone: a new city and a new life. Ben wasn’t envious, but at times he did wish he was more like JD.
He had only come for the halftime show and the announcement of homecoming queen. Everyone knew that Ro had a lock on it. Nevertheless, Ben braved it out in the top tier of the bleachers of the visiting team, figuring that no one from his school would see him consorting with the enemy. Although it was sunny, the temperature was in the forties. It would drop as soon as darkness fell, about an hour away. He hadn’t brought gloves, so he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets to keep them warm.
Halftime finally came, and with it, the cheering when Ro’s name was blasted over the PA. The noise was loud and boisterous. Ben hunched over, watching as the open-car parade began to circle the football field. The Rolls-Royce convertible, on loan every year courtesy of the Levy family, was given over to the queen. And there was Ro in her cheerleading costume and leg warmers, waving a white-gloved hand, her blond hair blowing in the wind as if she were gliding on a cloud. She exuded magnetism. Everybody wanted a piece of her.
Ruefully admitting the truth, he knew he was no exception.
Lilly suddenly materialized.
“Hey there.” He noticed that she didn’t look happy. “What’s wrong?”
“Ezra crapped out. He has a cold. Can I sit down?”
“Uh, someone’s sitting there but I suppose you can sit until he comes back.”
She sat. Ben regarded her. “You’re pissed at him?” When Lilly said nothing, he said, “He can’t help getting sick.”
“I’m not mad at Ezra.” She sat down. “I like Ezra. Ezra likes me. But we both don’t like each other in that way.”
“I see.”
“I don’t know why Haley insists that I have to have a date wherever I go.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If she doesn’t want me around, that’s okay. But if I do go, I don’t know why I have to be paired up with some boy who doesn’t want to be paired up either.”
“That’s a valid point.”
“I hate being a third wheel. I have a life beyond Haley Vicksburg.” But there were tears in her eyes.
Ben held back a smile. “Well, Lilly, this is the situation. You are now stag and so am I. Would you do me the honor of being my date for the homecoming dance?”
Lilly wiped her eyes. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be okay.”
He held back a laugh. “You’re rejecting me?”
“Stop it!” Her smile was shy. “I know I’m being ridiculous. And I really am glad that Haley is happy. Really.”
“I believe you.” A pause. “You want to see real happiness?” Ben pointed to the open car carrying Ro. Her smile was ear to ear. “Now that right there is the picture of happiness, Lilly.”
“That right there is Haley in three years,” Lilly muttered. “I sound jealous, right?”
“A little.”