A Small Town Dream (5 page)

“I
knew
it. I just
knew
you’d just love it.”

“It’s crazy, and at places, I was out of breath, like I’d been running or something. It was so—I don’t know. I really don’t have words.”

They babbled back and forth, topping each other’s sentences, but hearing every word, all the while remaining in their embrace.

“If you weren’t my best friend, I might be jealous.”

At the sound of Connie’s voice, they turned. They didn’t guiltily break the embrace, just looked at each other and laughed. Connie walked toward them. “What’s going on here?” There was no anger or jealousy in her voice.

“This
book
.” Annie broke the silence and pulled it from her backpack. “Parker told me about it and I read it and... Connie, you
have
to read this book.”

“I dunno know, Annie. If it makes me want to steal my best friend’s boyfriend, it might not be my kind of book.”

“I’m not—!”

“I’m kidding, sweetie. What’s the book?” Annie handed it to Connie. She looked it over. “Oh, yeah,
this
one. I didn’t think it looked that interesting.”

“Oh, it
is
!” Annie’s excitement bubbled over. “It really is.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to read it then.”

“Really?” Parker stepped toward her. “You’ll really read it?”

“Of course,” she said, hugging him. “I didn’t know it meant
that
much to you.”

“It does,” he said and kissed her. “I love you, Connie.”

Annie stood back, watching her best friend with her boyfriend, her someday-husband kiss, connect and be happy, and it filled her with joy and... Something else.
Jealousy
?

“I have to get to class,” Annie said, turning to leave. Parker grabbed her arm.

“Thanks for reading it, Annie. I knew you’d love it.”

“I do...I did...it was just...I’ll see you two later.” She hurried off but paused before the corner. She looked back to see them kissing again. She smiled.

“Connie’s lucky,” she told herself. “She deserves somebody like Parker.”

The jealousy, however, continued to ride on her shoulder.

***

“I just
can’t
.” Connie flopped down next to Annie in the cafeteria. She dropped the book on the table. “I can’t. It’s just...
weird
,” she said and sipped her Styrofoam cup of coffee. Annie’s mouth fell open. She didn’t expect Connie to
love
the book as much as Parker did. She didn’t think anyone could, but assumed Connie would at least like it. “I can’t get past the first ten pages. You
liked
this thing?”

“I loved it,” Annie said, picking up the book and running her hand over the cover. “I read it in one night.” Connie did a double-take.

“You’re not
serious
.”

Annie shrugged. “I’m surprised you didn’t. It’s all about adventure and freedom and escape...and
romance
.” Annie smiled, recalling passages from the book that had touched her heart. “It’s
the voice of a generation
.”

“Not
my
generation,” Connie snorted. “Okay, Annie, tell me what it’s about, and what I should like about it, so I can tell Parker.” Annie looked incredulous. “I’m not joking, Annie. There’s no way I can get through this thing, and I don’t want to disappoint Parker, so help me out here.” Annie thought for a moment. It seemed dishonest and somehow wrong.

“No, I can’t. I mean, Connie, it’s okay if you don’t like it. Parker loves you. He’s not going to change his mind just because you don’t like a book.”

“But it’s so important to him,” Connie said, taking the book back and rifling the pages, looking disgusted. “I want to like the things that are important to him.”

“Tell him.”

“Tell him what? That I can’t stand it?”

“No, tell him the truth, that you
want
to like it, because what’s important to him is important to you. Tell him that, and it’ll be fine.”

“You think?” Connie bit her cheek.

“I’m sure.”

But am I?
Annie wondered how Parker would react. She could have told Connie a few highlights, some lines to quote, and Parker would be none the wiser. But she was stuck now.

“It’ll be okay, Connie. It’s just a book after all, and I’m sure with time, there’ll be other books and other things you’ll share. This isn’t the end of the relationship.”

“You’re right. One book isn’t going to ruin our relationship.” Connie sounded more cheerful. She
was
confident in this, because she believed in what she had with Parker. “Thank you,” she said, hugging Annie. “I have to say, when I saw you two hugging, and found out it was because of a book, I was worried.”

“Connie, I would never...” but Annie’s was a half-hearted protest. Connie didn’t notice.

“I know, sweetie. I was just being silly. But you’re right, I’ll tell him the truth and it’ll be fine.” The bell rang. They gathered their things.

“Annie?” Connie stopped in the hall.

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie.”

Annie smiled, watching Connie walk away, but there was a sudden heaviness in her heart, one she didn’t understand.

Or rather, a heaviness she didn’t
want
to understand.

***

“Wow.” Annie sat down across from Parker in the lunchroom. They were the first ones at the table. “You look like somebody smothered your puppy. What’s going on?”

Parker sat, shoulders hunched, fiddling with something in his hands. Suddenly Annie was actually worried.

“Parker, is everything OK? Did something happen with Columbia?” He shook his head. “What
is
it, Parker?”

He didn’t raise his head but said, “She didn’t like the book, Anne.” She waited, but he said nothing else.

“Well, maybe she needs to—”

“No!” He cut her off almost violently. “She didn’t even read it. Said she ‘couldn’t get through it.’” He made quotations marks in the air with one hand. “Said it ‘made no sense,’ that it was ‘weird.’” He went back to fiddling with whatever it was. “She called it weird.” He looked on the verge of tears.

Annie got up and moved to his side of the table. She reached to take his hand to comfort him, but stopped.

“What’s this?” He held out his open palm. “Can I see it?” He shrugged.

She turned it over in her hands. It was a Zippo lighter, obviously second-hand, but nicely cleaned-up and engraved.
To P.L. love C.B.
“This is sweet, Parker. Connie gave this to you, right?” He shrugged again.

“Come on, Parker. Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

“Parker, she’s trying to make it up to you.”

“Make up for what?”

“You took up smoking in New York, right? So she told me she was going get you a lighter for Christmas, but didn’t have a lot of money, and didn’t know what kind to get that would be special. I told her to try a pawn shop.” Still no reaction.

“Parker, don’t you get it? She knows you hate it that she doesn’t like the book, so she gave you a present early to make up for it. Don’t you like it?”

He leaned forward, took it back, and silently stuffed it into the pocket of his now ever-present black jeans. Annie tried again.

“Parker, come on. Connie loves you. It’s not that big a deal if she doesn’t like Jack Kerouac. It’s just a book.” At that, Parker’s chin shot up, and he glared at her.

“You don’t
mean
that, do you?” he demanded. Annie took a breath, buying time.
I can’t lie to him
.

“No, I don’t mean that, Parker. I know it’s important to you but—” His eyes went flat, and he hung his head again.
What is going on here?
She reached for his hand to comfort him, but the touch sent sparks throughout her body. The attraction was so strong, she began to tremble. She managed to pull her hand away and move back to her side of the table. She’d barely sat down when Connie sat down next to Parker. Oblivious to his mood, Connie nudged him gently with her elbow.

“Hey, there. Did you tell her yet?” she asked him. Without waiting for an answer, she turned to look at Annie. “I told him I didn’t like the book. Now you two can gang up on me, call me a heathen, whatever. I can take it.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and made puppy-dog eyes. “He’ll get over it, right, baby?” He turned his head to give her a half-smile, and that was all she needed. “He still loves me,” she told Annie. “Did he show you his present?” Parker caught Annie’s eyes, and she saw sadness.

“It’s really nice, Connie. I’m glad you found one.” Then Annie looked at Parker. “He really loves you a lot,” she prompted. Parker gave Annie a look as Connie, still oblivious, kissed his cheek.

“Of course he does,” Connie quipped. “Now let’s get some lunch. I’m starving. Come on, Annie.” She stood to go to the lunch line, but Parker stayed in his seat.

“I’m not hungry, so I’ll just…hold down the fort.” Connie shrugged and headed off. Annie looked at Parker who sank back into his chair. Annie got up, intending to follow Connie.

“It’s just a book, Parker,” she whispered.

“It’s more than that,” he hissed, “and
you
know what I mean.” Annie sighed and left him alone.

As she joined Connie in line, she pondered what Parker meant. Part of her knew, but she didn’t want to give that part too much attention.

“May I hold your hand?”

Annie and Parker were sitting on a log on the east side of the lake. The moon, full, pale and bright, hung in the sky, simultaneously floating in the dark water. It was all suddenly far too romantic for Annie’s taste. She was there against her better judgment, but Parker had been so earnest when he showed up, unannounced, and asked her to go for a drive.

“Parker? What are you doing here?” she’d said when her mother called her to the door saying
some boy
was asking for her.

“Go for a drive with me, Annie.” She just looked at him, blinking. “Please? I really need to talk.” He wore the same smothered-puppy look she’d seen in the cafeteria.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen with Connie?”

“Actually, she
told
me to come talk to you.” Was that true? It might be.

“Well, I guess so,” she said, pushing open the screen door, “but we could talk here.” She indicated the porch swing. “It also sounds corny, but my mom made an apple pie tonight. She knew Jack Kerouac ate a lot of that when he was writing the book. Can you believe it? My mother read—”

“I really want to take a drive. And your folks don’t like people smoking.” That
was
true.

So now she was here. In the moonlight. Alone. With her best friend’s boyfriend. They had walked around the lake for a while in silence, then Parker asked to sit so he could smoke a cigarette. His Zippo glinted in the moonlight, and there was something sort of…
sensual
was the word that came to her mind, about his smooth movements. How he shook the cigarette from the pack, tapped it on the lighter, then ran the lighter once down, then back up the leg of his jeans. The flame was hypnotic, softly lighting his face as he lit the cigarette. Then he clicked it closed, tucked the lighter into his back pocket, took a deep drag, exhaled, and asked to hold her hand.