A Small Town Dream (2 page)

***

“What was
that
all about?” Ellen asked Annie. They had climbed down and bid the rest good night. They stood in the shadow of the tower. Maybe it was the darkness itself that let Annie speak the truth. Annie was a cheerleader of sorts. She never had an unkind word to say about any of her friends. She saw them all in the best possible light, encouraged them, believed in them, and trusted them completely. Her question to Connie, she felt, had been a betrayal, but one she could not keep in.

“I was just... following up on what
you
said,” Annie stammered but even in the dark, Ellen sensed the lie. Annie felt it being ripped apart and braced for what might happen next. Ellen grabbed her arm and yanked her violently out from under the tower and into the circle of light cast by an over-bright streetlamp. A light intended to deter kids from climbing the rickety ladder to spray paint the tower’s sides, but a light that also allowed people to see better, and therefore climb faster and paint faster. Ellen held Annie’s shoulders, looking into her face, searching for something. Annie held her ground and tried to look casual.

“Annie Stewart, you’re
lying
.” Ellen’s disappointment colored her voice. Annie took it like a slap in the face but knew Ellen was right.

“I am,” she whispered. “I honestly believe or...
believed
that Connie would get herself pregnant just to hold on to Parker, to guarantee her way out. She hates it here so much.”

Ellen turned away. Annie waited and worried. She didn’t like this side of herself and wasn’t sure where it came from. She knew Parker—
everybody
knew Parker—but she was not close to him, or even in his circle of friends. She was surprised that Connie
was
in that circle. And something in Connie’s tone, her relief with finally getting out, made Annie think there was something underhanded going on.

“I hate myself,” Ellen said, turning back, “but I was thinking the same thing. Connie’s too happy, too sure.”

The two stood silently for a long time, the night growing cooler. It was a tough realization for them both. Connie, someone they cared about, trusted, and loved, had caused them to doubt and to question, to see her in a way that caught them both unprepared.

“We’re wrong, Ellen,” Annie said finally. “We have to be. Connie isn’t like that. None of us is. She’s in love with him, he’s in love with her, and it’s worked out for her that’s all. She’s getting what she wants so very much.”

Ellen agreed, they hugged and forgave, promised to get
those thoughts
out of their heads, and to support Connie in her happiness.

“What about the other stuff, though?” Ellen asked. “What you said about realizing you wanted out of this town. Was
that
a lie?”

“Of course,” Annie said quickly. “You know how I feel. I’m not like you, not like the others. I’m happy here. I love it here. I’m not interested in
any
other life. I don’t need to run away.”

“I’m not looking, either,” Ellen said, “but I am
hoping
to leave one day, to grow somehow, see more of the world.”

“Well, I like
this
world, and that’s never going to change,” Annie said. They hugged again, said their good nights, and Annie felt better as she headed down the dark wooded path toward home.

However, her thoughts returned to the idea of Connie purposely trapping Parker. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed possible, maybe even probable. She hated thinking of one of her friends that way, but she couldn’t deny that of all of them, Connie would be most likely to pull something like that. Connie didn’t just
want
to get out Rockland, she
had
to. She was not meant for small town life. She did not belong or function well there. She had friends, and did all the things that girls her age and her social class were
supposed
to do. But Connie always seemed to have her eyes down the road, her face in a magazine, reading stories about travel and life elsewhere. Connie went through the motions of being a cheerleader, an enthusiastic student government member, but everything seemed to be for a reason unknown to anyone else.

Annie had felt this way for a long time, and had seen it in Connie, heard it in her voice. But before tonight, before the announcement about sleeping with Parker, she had never been able to put her finger on it. Now she could. Now she understood. Connie was so desperate to get out of Rockland, she was not afraid to get out by any means possible.
That’s
why it didn’t seem like such an outrageous idea.
That’s
why it had come to Annie so quickly at that moment.

“She
would
,” Annie said to the trees. “She would do something like that. Not poor Parker. Poor Connie.”

***

As August dwindled, the lazy days of summer tingled with anticipation of the final school year, and of making the most of those last weeks. Connie wasn’t pregnant after all. Annie felt a mixture of relief and shame. She talked to Ellen about it only once, and they both vowed to put the incident behind them. And they did. They spent time together, Connie included, going to the lake, staying out late, going to barn dances, and reveling in youthful excitement.

Connie often spoke of dating Parker, but the two were never seen together. Connie excused this, saying he was always studying so he wouldn’t lag behind at Columbia. She never brought up Annie’s accusation again. No one did. It faded like a fight most always will between good friends.

***

“Parker gets back tomorrow,” Connie announced, joining then all at the coffee shop in the town square. A lazy Saturday morning, none of them having to work, no real plans, the best kind of summer day, and the freedom to do anything and everything—or nothing at all. Connie was all smiles and chatter. None of them had noticed Parker was not around. They already saw him so infrequently.

Connie said he had gone to New York two weeks earlier to tour Columbia, sign forms, and get a lot of things out of the way so that after graduation, he could hit the ground running. His folks were picking him up at the airport that afternoon, and she couldn’t sit still. Everyone was happy for her, teasing, and she basked in it. Now that she had her exit strategy, she was calmer, laughed more, and seemed more present. Where once, as Annie had often observed, Connie did things for show, or with an eye to some result, watching who was watching, and gauging what they were thinking, now Connie just enjoyed. Annie liked this side of her. They all did.

“I’m going to miss you, Connie,” Annie said during a lull in the conversation. “I’m happy for you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still wish you’d stay around forever.” The others nodded, agreeing, adding their sentiments.

“Well, I’m still here
now
,” Connie said, breaking the somber mood, “and I am
not
going to spend my last summer break all mushy and sad so... Fifteen minutes, everybody back here, bathing suits, coolers, and we are
all
going to the beach!” Everyone scattered toward home to gear up for the day.

Ellen drove Annie home, then waited in the car. The two of them alone, away from the rest, seemed the perfect chance to discuss the night at the water tower. More than a week had passed, and neither Ellen nor Annie had spoken of it. Each thought maybe the other had forgotten and was happy just to move on. Still, the evening had troubled Annie. Her walk home, discovering she sincerely believed Connie was capable of such a plot, haunted her. Then the days passed, and Annie learned she had been so obviously wrong. Connie wasn’t pregnant. Connie wasn’t plotting. Connie wasn’t trying to trap Parker in
any
way, or so it seemed. Annie felt guilty for thinking so poorly of a friend in the first place. The guilt had burdened her, and now she wanted to dispel it.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Ellen, getting back into the car with her things.

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t wait long.”

“No, I don’t mean about making you wait, I mean the other night, about what I said about Connie.” Ellen quietly put the car in gear and headed down the street.

“Don’t be,” she said at last. “I have to tell you, when we left that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said and I realized… Oh God, I can
not
believe I’m saying this but, I
agreed
with you.” She looked at Annie, her face a mask of shame. “I did,” she continued. “I thought Connie would tell us she was pregnant, and that Parker was going to marry her, and it was
awful
. I
felt
awful. That I could think of
any
of you that way was just...” She blew out a sigh of relief. “I really, really needed to say that.”

“I know, Ellen. I’ve been feeling the same. Just awful, and for days. I mean, Connie’s... She’s
sweet
, she’s so nice, I can’t believe I could ever think of her that way. How did I ever get so cynical?”

Ellen listened, then suddenly pulled to the side of the road and shut off the car. She turned to face Annie.

“Listen, you’re not cynical, sweetie. We both know that Connie’s...determined, let’s say, and that’s good. I love her, no matter what, but you’ve got to admit it, this
feeling—
and
we both had it—didn’t just drop from the sky. Sometimes the way Connie acts and talks, she opens the door for this kind of thinking. She knows it, too. She wasn’t mad at you, right? I mean, I was sitting right next to her, I saw her face. She wasn’t angry. She was...
proud
, maybe even pleased that you of all people would think she was that clever. I don’t know how to describe it, but she wasn’t angry. Connie sees living in this dinky town, even one minute more than she absolutely has to, is some sort of…
death
sentence. We weren’t that wrong to think what we did.”

They were both quiet for a moment, then Annie leaned across and hugged Ellen. Ellen restarted the car, and they continued toward town.

“She’s not pregnant,” Annie said, “so she’s not trapping Parker, and I’m glad. But I do feel better now, so thank you.” Ellen reached across, took Annie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. They held hands for the rest of the ride. Annie wasn’t as close with all her friends as she was with Ellen, and she felt thankful to be able to be this honest and this close. “We’ve got the rest of the summer
and
the whole school year with Connie, and I am not going to feel guilty one minute longer. I’m just going to love her and be happy for her.”

“Me, too,” Ellen said, then gave Annie’s hand one last squeeze and returned her hand to the wheel. When they pulled in near the coffee shop, everyone was there. Connie hopped into Ellen’s car, announced she was riding with them, and that she was going to drink
quite a few
bottles of beer.

Off they all went for a day at the beach. Small town girls, doing small town things.

It was all
just fine
.

Parker returned. His parents picked him up at the airport as planned, and then took him home. Once unpacked, he immediately went to see Connie. Two weeks away, and he was eager. Twenty minutes later, and they were alone on a blanket in the woods overlooking the water.

Annie and the girls were occupying a booth at the back of the Creek Side Diner when Connie came in, holding Parker’s hand, and smiling like a demure—but cat-eating—canary. The couple joined the table,
hellos
went all around, and Connie nudged Parker into the booth next to Annie, then squeezed in on his other side. Then she encouraged him to talk about New York and Columbia and his time away from Rockland.

Annie listened, carefully watching Connie and feeling another stab of guilt. The idea that Connie would control or trap Parker looked even more ridiculous seeing the two of them together. Connie, while obviously pleased with herself, sitting with Parker’s arm around her, was still quiet herself, encouraging him to talk and hold court at the table. She seemed perfectly happy and completely at ease being merely a spectator. Annie’s image of a Connie that controlled Parker’s every move, a demanding girlfriend, was just not right. She tried to let it go, forgive herself for thinking the way she had. She replayed Ellen’s words, laughed at herself for being so dramatic. She relaxed and enjoyed the fact that Connie was truly happy and that Parker, usually shy and removed around that many girls, was much more outgoing.