I told him and watched, amazed, as he wrote the digits on his forearm, like a tattoo. Like something important he wasn’t willing to risk losing.
He tossed the marker back onto the counter, grinned as he said “Bye,” and took off.
I put the milk carton back in the fridge and rinsed his glass and set it in the sink. I’d wash it up later with the rest of the dishes. But the whole time, I was seeing his grin and the scrawled numbers on his arm, and I knew he’d call.
A few days later, the phone rang. I’d just come into the house from working my pottery wheel. I didn’t have running water out there in the old cabin where my wheel and working area were, so I paused to wash my hands at the kitchen sink, and Gran answered the phone. She pressed it to her bosom and called to me softly. The house was small, and I had young ears, so it didn’t take much volume. Despite Gran’s ears being older, the principle of proximity still applied, and it wasn’t possible for me to have a truly private telephone conversation in this house.
“Hi. Sure, I can talk.”
“Great. A group of us are having a cookout down by the river. Stan, Bruce, and some others. Gina and Angie. It’ll be fun. I thought you might like to go.”
These were his friends, not mine. On the other hand, I didn’t have anything against them.
“I’d love to. Thanks.”
After we hung up, I turned to find Gran staring at me.
I shook my head and shrugged all at once. “I’m going out Friday evening. A cookout. A group of friends.”
“Friends? That sounded like a young man on the phone.”
“He’s a friend from school.”
Gran turned and muttered for a while. She was talking to Grand. I came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders. She sighed, then said, “I wish your grandfather were here.”
“Me too. All the time. But why do you wish it this time in particular?”
“Because when a boy shows up to take a gal on a date, he ought to see a male family member. It doesn’t hurt to see a man on the porch, maybe with a gun or at least a big stick, lest the boy forget any good sense he might own.”
“You sit on the porch, Gran. You can hold Grand’s old rifle,” I joked. I knew she would never do any such thing. The very image of Gran with a gun or bat across her knees was hilarious. Almost.
“Oh, you can laugh, missy, but I’ll be sitting on the porch, make no mistake about it.” She walked off, muttering, “It won’t be the same, though . . . an old, worn-out grandmother.”
I hadn’t dated in high school. My life had never been centered in town but in the Hollow. I’d engaged in a few school activities and made some friends, but most of those kids were like me, awkward and solitary. None were the partying kind, and I wasn’t around them enough to feel like I was part of a close group of friends. As the week wore on to Friday, I got nervous. I almost called off our date, but then decided that since it was a party, it would be appropriate to drive myself. I could leave whenever I wanted, which reassured me.
At supper, after I set Gran’s plate on the table, I told her what I was intending.
“I’ve decided to drive myself to the party. Instead of anyone coming to pick me up, I’d rather drive. That way if I’m not having a good time, I can leave without asking someone to take me home.”
“That so?” She sipped her coffee before she began cutting up the pork chop. “If you’re not sure about it, maybe you shouldn’t go.” She shook her head. “It’s not as if I don’t think you should socialize. You should do more with friends your age. But I’m picking up vibes from you, Hannah, and it’s making me nervous.”
I set my plate opposite hers and took my seat.
“You’re picking up on my nervousness, Gran. I’ve been too content to stay here at home. Mind you, I love being here, but maybe I’ve . . . Maybe I should do more about getting out and living life.”
“Don’t mistake me, Hannah. I know you love me and love home, and heaven knows you’ve been bound here far more than you should’ve been. It wasn’t your fault you had to be raised by your grandparents, and old grandparents to boot. You’re a young person and should be having fun. But are you driving yourself to this date because you don’t want your friend to see where you live?”
I was stunned. I hadn’t thought of it like that. Perhaps there was truth in it. Our home was small and shabby, but we owned many acres of forest. When the laurel and azaleas were in bloom, and then the honeysuckle vines and trumpet flowers, there was no sweeter, more beautiful place on earth.
“No, Gran.” I shook my head. “I know who I am. I’m Hannah Cooper, and I’m proud of my home and my people.”
“You had to grow up too fast, honey, and without the fun,” Gran said. “If your mama had—” She broke off, and her eyes turned red, as they always did when she mentioned my long-deceased mother.
My parents had died in a car accident when I was a baby. When I grew older and started asking questions, my grandparents told me about it. It was real and it was tragic, but it didn’t feel like a fact of my life because I was so young when it happened. I had no recollection of them and would never know what I’d missed. The loss had been different for my grandparents. It had punched a huge, unfixable hole in their lives.
I thought of what Spencer had said about my being an orphan. Maybe my Grands had viewed my childhood through a similar lens—that of loss. But for me, when I considered my life, I thought of my freedom in the woods, my love of home, my pottery, and my grandfather who drove me into town for school day in, day out whether I wanted to go or not, because he cared about the person I would be.
“I had plenty of fun. No regrets, Gran. I promise.”
One of Spencer’s friends had an uncle who farmed acreage out past Route 33 near the South Anna River. There was a turnoff that went through the trees and ended at a picnic table and a fire pit. It wasn’t dark yet, and it certainly wasn’t cold, but the guys already had a fire going. There were about eight coolers lined up in the bed of a truck, and a couple of guys were unloading them. Spencer saw me watching, and he laughed.
“These parties have a way of growing and getting very thirsty,” he said.
He’d moved closer, and I stepped a few inches away. I was glad I’d driven myself. Whatever I’d expected, this wasn’t it.
As the crowd grew, along with the noise and music, I recognized a few faces. A girl from my senior English class came over, and some others joined us, and soon I found myself laughing with a group of people I hardly knew. Some were total strangers. The last I’d seen of Spencer, he was with some of the guys cooking on a huge grill someone had towed in and was going hard at the beer.