I can’t remember being invited to anything so nice, except for maybe Grebe Auto Supply’s employees-plus-family-only picnics and parties. There’s a fancy spread of food to pick from and pretty little tables set up close by. I’m acutely aware of my lack of age in this small, classy crowd who seem way more socially adept than me.
Leon leads me to the beautifully decorated gazebo at the back of the yard, where a tall, painfully pregnant-looking woman holds court. Caroline. Caro for short, Leon tells me. She’s in a burgundy maternity dress and matching lipstick that perfectly complements her black skin. Her brown hair is cropped close to her head and her hands rest on her stomach in an almost absently protective way. She’s smiling, but I can tell by the way she shifts from foot to foot that she probably wants to sit down. I see the girls at Swan’s do that all the time when their feet are hurting. I’ve done it myself. When she sees Leon, her eyes light up and it makes my heart stutter. I can’t remember the last time a girl lit up when she saw me. Or maybe I can. I just didn’t know I missed it until now.
“Hey,” Caro says.
“Hey,” he says and he gives her a hug, or at least tries to. “Christ, Caro. I can barely fit my arms around you.”
“You really know how to make a girl feel great about herself,” she says. When they part, she turns to me and I disappear in that second’s worth of scrutiny, worried she’ll see more than I want her to. She smiles, though, so she must not. “Romy. Leon’s told me about you.”
My name sounds so … welcome out of her mouth, it makes the next thought in my head: I want you to be my friend and the thought after that: that’s pathetic.
“You have a beautiful place out here,” I say.
“Thank you.” She crosses the gazebo and grabs two beers from a small table of drinks behind her, one for Leon and one—for me, which makes me feel as adult as everyone else here, which makes me like her even more. A tiny look of longing crosses her face as she watches me twist the cap off my bottle. “Enjoy, because I can’t.” Then she nods at my legs. God, she’s like her brother. Doesn’t miss anything. “What happened?”
“Tripped over my own feet.”
“In track at school. She’s a runner,” Leon explains. “Fast one, apparently.”
“That’s awesome.” She points at her belly. “I can’t even remember what walking is like, let alone running. All I do is waddle now.”
I take a swig of the beer. “Congratulations on…” I nod at her stomach because it feels weird to congratulate someone just because they’re going to have a kid. People have been doing that for as long as there have been people. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Hey, do you babysit? Because Leon doesn’t.”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get on me about that tonight.”
“Boy or girl?” I ask.
“Parasite.” She grins at the look on my face. “It’s the truth! It’s sucking me dry. I’ve never been more tired or sick in my life. I’ve hated every minute of this pregnancy.”
“All you do is complain about it now, but you’re going to love that kid when it’s out of you and you’re all blissed out on hormones,” Leon tells her.
“Absolutely, and I’ll still have hated being pregnant.”
She asks Leon how it’s going at the diner and my attention drifts; I’m distracted by everything, overwhelmed by this: people look at me and then—they don’t. Their eyes skim over me and move on to something else. There’s an unquestioned acceptance of my being here, being part of this. It’s a warm feeling and I’m so hungry for it, but I close myself off to it before I get my fill. I’m not going home to that. Best stay starved.
“So are you two together?” Caro asks and I don’t know who looks more embarrassed for it—Leon or me—but that’s only because I can’t see my face. I finish my beer in three swallows. She says, “But you’re here together.”
“Thought I’d show Romy a typical Friday night for me.”
“Then why aren’t you at your apartment ordering takeout and playing video games?”
He slings his arm around my shoulder. I feel the question after he does it. Is this okay? I don’t think it is. I don’t know how to fold myself into him in any way that feels right.
“That’s for second dates, Caro. Everyone knows that.”
“Feeling confident?” she asks which seems like something I should be teasing him about but I’m still struggling to fit. And then I realize they’re waiting for me to say something anyway. The silence is so awkward. You’d think I’d never spent time with people before or that I didn’t know how to talk. A million and one thoughts are firing across my brain because I want what I say to be perfect. I want it to be as effortless as them.
“He must be,” I finally offer.
Leon smiles. He pulls me closer and it makes me shiver, and I feel him feel it, but I can’t tell if it pleases him.
“Hey, Leon! Leon!” And like that, Leon’s arm is off me just when I’m starting to understand its weight. He straightens, eyes searching out whoever’s yelling for him. It turns out to be a man as tall as Leon, but not quite as lean, with dark brown skin and curly brown hair. His tie is the exact same color as Caro’s lipstick. “That junk heap you drove here in—”
“Insult my car, Adam, and it’ll be the last thing you do.” Leon turns to me. “My brother-in-law. He’s a real…”
“Be nice,” Caro warns.
“He knows how I feel about my car.”
“The headlights look great,” Adam says and even though he can’t possibly hear what Caro and Leon are saying from where he’s standing, the glee on his face says he knows. “That why you left them on?”
Leon closes his eyes briefly.
“It’s a shitty car, Leon,” Caro tells him.
“Et tu, Brute?” He gives me a sheepish smile and hands me his beer. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be right here,” I say and then he’s gone, leaving me with his sister. A few people wander through, grabbing drinks and wishing Caro well on their way.
“They get along, Adam and Leon, in case you were wondering,” Caro says after a minute. “Sometimes better than me and Leon do.”