Bunches (14 page)

“Having a good morning, Mr.
Curtis?” A gravelly voice sounds over my shoulder, and I see JJ’s eyes light up
as he sits up straighter.

“Yes, Mrs. Avery, it’s getting
better all the time,” he says, grinning.

I turn around to see what can
only be Noah’s grandmother. Noah has followed the family matriarch around the
tables and is standing next to her, eyeing us. It’s the first time I’ve seen
him look nervous.

She’s a short woman, only
slightly bent. Her gray hair is piled in a perfect bun at the top of her head
and she’s wearing a sweater and khakis.

She swats her hand in the air.
“Oh, you,” she says. “That flirting ability must help you at the bar.”

JJ shrugs. “You know how it is.”

“I sure do,” she says dryly.
“Your grandfather made that very clear.”

Meanwhile, Noah is inching toward
me to say, “This is like watching two heavyweight boxers and liking them both.
I want a tie and I want to enjoy the ride.”

I look at him like he’s crazy.

“Gram dances to her own
soundtrack. It’s slow. Sinatra or something,” Noah murmurs to me.

“My grandfather would be honored
that you remember him,” says JJ.

Mrs. Avery snorts. “He wouldn’t
blink twice.”

“I believe,” says JJ, turning his
coffee cup around in a circle, “that you were the one who dumped him.”

Mrs. Avery gives a wicked smile.

“Your grandfather was the most
decent man I ever met. Unfortunately, I was already engaged at the time,” she
sighs. “I can’t regret it. I wouldn’t have this hellion if I had done things
differently.”

“And when she says ‘hellion’ she
means most wonderful grandchild ever,” says Noah.

She cuffs him playfully on the
ear and he grins.

“Gram, this is Nora,” says Noah.
“She’s here for the summer.” Once introductions are made, the four of us finish
our coffee together. It’s the most fun I’ve had in years. Five, to be exact.

How could I have suggested
tonight? I brace my hands on my dresser and glare at my own reflection in the
mirror. I want her to be comfortable with me. I was even close to using the
dreaded word friend.

And here I suggested hanging out
and clearing the air.

I shake my head, still glaring at
my own reflection.

I want her to trust me. I don’t
want her to become like a skittish animal around me.

I just want to see her. I go
crazy when I don’t.

To be fair, it’s clear a bar
isn’t her scene. At least not yet.

But what about Jessie? Luckily,
she’s gone to her parents’ summer place for the weekend. I couldn’t go because
I have to work, but I know, I just know, that she wouldn’t be happy about this
if she found out.

To be even more fair, I told Nora
she was the best part of my day. The fact that it’s true is irrelevant. She’s
like a skittish horse around me. She’s like that with everyone, it seems, but I
want her to trust me. I spend too much time looking for her to come into the
Remember.

It’s going on eight o’clock and
I’m ready to go. When she agreed to meet me, her eyes got as big as saucers,
and I’ve spent all day afraid that she’ll back out.

But she hasn’t.

For part of the day I’ve kept my
phone near me and checked it constantly, while at other times I’ve paced into
another room so that I wouldn’t know when she sent her apologies.

It’s evening, but night hasn’t
fallen when I leave my apartment, saying bye to Anabella on my way out.

“Mom would like you even today
when you’re old and crabby,” I murmur to the cat. She only purrs more loudly.

Outside there’s a light drizzle
and I swear softly. My nerves are humming; of course the first time Nora
actually agrees to see me, it’s raining.

I have an umbrella, so I’m not
too worried, and Nora said she wanted to do something casual, so I suggested a
walk on the beach and a concert by the water. Her eyes lit up when I said the
word concert, but I’m not sure why.

She explained that her friends
were already going to that concert, and I said I’d invite Sylvan and we could
all meet up. I don’t want it to be some awkward thing, and I know Sylvan would
approve of my hanging out with anyone but Jessie. Even though Nora and I are
JUST FRIENDS.

One of the things I wondered all
day was if she remembered my past. I figured she must have heard about my mom,
but I didn’t really know. After I pick her up, though, when she comes hopping
out of her apartment in skinny jeans and a tight white t-shirt that hugs her in
all the right places, I don’t have to wonder much longer.

She looks incredible. Something
in my chest tightens.

“Hey,” she murmurs. She’s holding
her own umbrella, so I don’t bother to unfold mine. The rain is gentle but
steady.

“We can go eat somewhere or
something,” I say. “It doesn’t look like we’ll get that walk on the beach.”

“Afraid of a little water?” she
asks. At first I’m so surprised she’s teasing me that I start to answer her
seriously, but when I see the sparkle in her eye I stop and grin.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“Good,” she says, giving me a
curt nod. “I don’t hang out with sissies.” We both laugh at the ridiculousness
of it.

“Of course you don’t,” I say.

“What time’s the concert? Will
they still play in the rain?” she asks.

“It’s not until nine,” I say.
“And no, but this is supposed to clear up. Just a freak storm. Maybe afterwards
we’ll see a rainbow.”

“You like rainbows?” she asks,
looking surprised and cute. As we walk I see guys glance at her and then at me,
checking her out. I want to put a protective arm around her, but know it’s not
my place to do that.

“My mom used to love them,” I
say, staring up at the sky.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” she
murmurs. She says it as if she understands. Maybe she does.

So she does know.

“Thanks,” I say. “She was the
best.”

“Did you know her?” I ask. “Not
very many people will talk to me about her. They get this stricken look on
their faces, as if she shouldn’t be mentioned.”

Now it’s Nora’s turn to nod her
understanding.

“I met her a couple of times. She
was really nice. I’d walk past your house sometimes and she’d wave. She had
that beautiful garden.”

“Yeah, she loved that garden,” I
say. “It was her pride and joy.”

“I’m pretty sure you were her
pride and joy,” says Nora generously.

“I was trouble,” I say, laughing.
“She told me so all the time. That’s part of the reason she sent me to live
with her father whenever she could.”

“What was the other part of the
reason?” Nora asks.

We’re almost to the beach now. I
can see endless sand stretching in either direction, and in front of us the
ocean.

“To get me away from the
beatings,” I say.

I’ve said it before. My good
friends know. Jessie knows. Somehow it’s different saying it to someone who
knew her.

Nora reaches out a hand and
gently touches my arm. Despite the rain her fingers are warm and comforting.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

My chest is tight and I give a
curt nod.

“Me too,” I say. “People tell me
it wasn’t my fault, but I always think I could have done more.”

“I would say it wasn’t your
fault,” she said, “but people tell me the same thing.”

That brings me to a dead halt. I
remember this, Michael’s mother screaming at the top of her lungs, for minutes,
hours. Well of course she did. Her only son was dead long before his time. But
I also remember her blaming Nora, and that, I find, is unforgivable.

“Maybe it was neither of our
faults. Just unlikely,” I say quietly.

“Unlucky that the people we cared
about most in the world died in our arms?”

We’re standing still and facing
each other now. I’m not sure if I should continue the conversation or stop here
forever. I see both in her eyes. A whirring of pain and hurt, but also of hope.

We’re both silent for a long
time.

Eventually she says, “Isn’t it
strange that we should meet again and talk about this?”

We’re still standing still, and
she’s still looking up at me. Those sad eyes are locked on my face and I can’t
move. Someone could yell fire, or tidal wave, and I’d stay rooted right to that
spot. I’m experiencing a different kind of tidal wave.

A drop of rain has landed on her
nose and is gently rolling down. I want so badly to reach out and wipe it away,
but I don’t. Her face is framed by blustering clouds as the last dregs of light
sprinkle over her hair and cheeks.

I smile. My face stretches easily
into the motion. It’s easy to smile with her. “Strange indeed.”

We keep walking, still not
touching, but closer now in the ways that truly matter.

The sun is coming back out from
behind the clouds as we walk side by side. I’m careful to keep a little
distance between us and too aware of his shoulder, connected to his arm,
running through his elbow and down to his wrist and hand just mere inches away
from my hip. At one point we stop at a beach vendor’s stand and pick up hot
cinnamon rolls.

While we stand in line I’m able
to give him a little more space. I’m comfortable with him, but not that
comfortable. I don’t know what his touch, even unintentional, might set off
inside me. I ache for things I don’t understand.

“These are delicious,” I say with
my mouth half full.

JJ watches me and laughs. He’s
holding his own cinnamon roll, only eating it more carefully so that crumbs
aren’t falling everywhere. “Yup. A summer staple. I don’t know who had that
brilliant idea, but I’ll be forever grateful.”

“I should try baking these,” I
say thoughtfully.

“You bake?” JJ asks, full of
interest.

“Yeah, like those cookies for the
block party. I mean, it’s not a serious thing. I just find it relaxing.”

“It could be a serious thing,” he
says, thoughtfully, taking a bite of roll. “You could make these. I bet they’d
been even more wonderful.”

I blush at the compliment. I had
always thought about opening my own bake shop, with muffins and cookies and
cakes, but my mother thought I needed a practical career goal, “Especially
after what happened.”

We talk and we walk and we lose
track of time. In the heat of conversation I forget to worry about being too
close to him and I forget to worry about what the people we pass, joggers, dog
walkers, and fellow strollers alike, might think of us. At some point I put my
umbrella away. At another point I notice that JJ has very long, dark eyelashes.
He swipes a drop of water from my nose. We match steps.

The sun sets. I shield my eyes to
stare at the horizon, which is painted in gold and dark blue.

I see a rainbow and excitedly
point it out to JJ who takes a picture on his phone. I’m not cold anymore.

Being with JJ is a relief I can’t
even begin to describe. He knows me and he knows my history, in a very personal
way.

But he doesn’t judge me, and when
he looks at me I don’t see pity. I see respect and interest, as if I have
something important to say. I see a warmth of character and an understanding
that set something wild and worried deep inside my core at ease.

The gold of the sky is becoming
molten, dripping into the navy and mixing with the puffy clouds. I take my
sandals off and hold them, along with my umbrella, walking barefoot and
enjoying the feel of the thick, cold, wet sand under my feet. JJ walks beside
me, his hands casually stuffed into his jean pockets.

I turn my face to the wind and
let it blow the stray strands of my hair back.

“Hum?” I ask, marveling that I
have marveled at the fact that I’ve befriended a bartender.

He gives me a sidelong look.
“Nothing,” he murmurs. His expression is thoughtful.

“Do you like it here?” I ask when
there’s another lull in the conversation. We have covered a range of topics,
from the food at the Remember (mostly his grandfather’s secret recipes) to the
merits of having friends who will distract math teachers on your behalf (Lizzy,
for me, in high school).

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s strange. I
love the Remember, and I love that it brings me closer to my gramps and my
mom-”

“But?” I prompt when he doesn’t
immediately continue. I pull my jacket tighter around my body. “But I don’t
know that I’ve found my real place yet.” He shrugs. “Maybe it has more to do
with people than place.”

I don’t have any idea what that
means, except that I know in my bones my first real home was with Michael. 

“We should probably go stake out
places for the concert,” says JJ, not appearing to notice my sudden silence.
He’s watching me closely, his eyes filled with something I don’t understand.

There’s a crowd of people all
wandering in the same general direction, and we follow them. Some are carrying
blankets and lots are wearing thin coats. The evenings are still chilly. I
notice girls checking out JJ and I’m reminded of red shirt/wine girl, so I just
wait for others to approach him. I wonder if this is how his girlfriend usually
feels.

Probably not. She probably
doesn’t worry about JJ, because she knows he’s hers. But thinking about JJ’s
girlfriend is like taking an ice bath that brings me back to reality. Our
conversation, the warmth between us - at least on my end, I let go of it and
feel it blown away by the wind.

“There you are,” says Noah,
racing up to us. His hair is windblown and his jeans are rolled up at the
ankles. Trailing behind him is a guy who looks a lot like him, who I assume
must be his brother, and Lizzy. Sylvan is standing a few feet behind them, in
plain clothes. He waves and comes over. It looks like he’s been talking to Lizzy,
and her cheeks are flushed.

“Hey,” I say to her. “Where’s
Aimee?”

“She decided to go visit her
parents for the night,” says Lizzy, shrugging. She’s wearing jeans and a black
jacket to protect against the wind. She leans closer to me, brushing her hair
out of her eyes. “Hey, how’d it go?”

“How’d what go?” I whisper back.
Noah is busy making introductions and providing a distraction.

“The date,” she hisses, like it’s
obvious.

I glare at her. “We weren’t ON a
date.”

Then I close my mouth. The shift
in wind direction makes it very likely that the guys can overhear our
conversation. Lizzy rolls her eyes.

“Not technically, but it’s
close.”

I shake my head. “He has a
girlfriend.”

“I intend to find out more about
that, by the way,” she says, nodding at Sylvan.

“They’re really good friends,” I
say.

“I like him,” says Lizzy.

“Who? JJ?” I tease. She glares at
me.

“Not like that,” she groans. “I
have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, and where is he this
summer?” The truth is that Steven likes to keep busy. When they first went off
to college, Lizzy and Steven agreed that they would spend summers together, but
because of internship opportunities, that became impossible. Steven is now in
New York, actually very close to Ellis.

“We’re fine,” she huffs. “I’m
going to visit him next weekend and then he’s going to come here. Just because
we aren’t together all the time doesn’t mean we aren’t fine.”

The concert lasts almost an hour.
The music is by a local band that plays at the Remember sometimes, and after
the show JJ wanders over to say hi to the musicians. He asks Sylvan if he wants
to come along, but Sylvan has decided to glue himself to Lizzy’s side. I watch
the muscular cop smile down at my friend and feel a twinge of jealousy.

I know my friend well enough to
know that she has noticed, but is pretending not to.

“So,” Noah whispers to me as we
walk back toward the street, “how well do you like Lizzy’s boyfriend?”

I glance up at him. He doesn’t
miss much. My look seems to confirm his suspicions, and he whistles softly.

“I can see how Sylvan feels about
her, but how does she feel about him?” he murmurs.

“She’s been dating Steven for six
years,” I say, remembering when they got together at fifteen. “She loves him.”

Noah nods, but he doesn’t look
convinced. “I can’t wait to meet him then.”

I look again at Sylvan. He’s
obviously a good guy, and I mean, come on, he’s a cop, which means he’s
upstanding and brave, but that doesn’t mean he’s in love with Lizzy, or that he
would give her everything that Steven does. Then again, given some of Steven’s
antics I sometimes wonder what my friend is still doing with her high school
sweetheart.

JJ meets us by the street lamp as
most of the rest of the crowd streams past.

“Anyone up for a late night
snack?” he asks, glancing at me. “I know most of you have to work tomorrow, but
we all gotta eat.”

“We have to get home,” says Noah.
“My grams will be angry if we’re late.”

“Yeah,” says Noah’s brother,
who’s been quiet most of the night. “Making her angry is like waking the
dragon. Always a bad idea.”

Once Noah has left, the four of
us keep walking. We break into natural pairs, Lizzy and Sylvan walking in front
while JJ and I bring up the rear.

“Where was your girlfriend this
weekend?” I ask, before I can stop myself. Ever since I remembered her a little
while ago, her existence has pulsed in my mind. I hate that he has a girlfriend
almost as much as I hate how I feel about relationships and love. Angry and
broken.

JJ doesn’t look at me.

“She went to stay with her
parents for the weekend,” he explains. “They have a nice summer place and she
goes there a lot.”

He stuffs his hands into his
pockets again, a gesture I’ve decided he makes when he’s nervous.

“Oh, I see,” I say. “How long
have you two been together?”

“Two years,” he says. “She’s a
sweet girl.”

I don’t know what else to say. I
could ask the normal questions, how they met, what she does for work, but I
don’t want the answers. I know that if I have them I will just obsess over the
details until they drive me mad. They don’t matter. He’s taken, and he’s my
friend. We have a history and he’s a nice bartender to me. Nothing more. Ever.

After that I have another
question. “Why were you and Sylvan at the diner so early the other morning?”

JJ sighs, but he still seems
happier with this topic than the last one.

“We have trouble with vandals at
the Remember sometimes. Sylvan called me to tell me some stuff was
spray-painted on our windows. After I finished dealing with it, Sylvan and I
got coffee. It’s become something of a ritual for us.”

I nod. There’s been gossip around
town that the two most popular bars, the Remember and the Black Jack, are
feuding, although what they’re feuding about I haven’t heard.

“Does it have something to do
with the Black Jack?” I ask. I’m trying to have a normal conversation with him,
but it’s hard. There are too many emotions coursing through me like rivers, all
running in different directions.

JJ gives me a sharp look, then a
grin rakes across his handsome face. He looks even hotter, if that’s possible.
“Of course not. They are totally innocent in all things.”

I could have heard the sarcasm in
his voice even if I only spoke French. I just nod.

“Is your curiosity satisfied, or
do you have more questions?” he asks, amusement in his voice. I’m glad we’ve
gotten past the uncomfortable topics.

I give him a shy smile. “Sorry,”
I mutter. “Sometimes I just ask a lot of questions.”

He nods, still amused. He’s even
more good-looking when he’s happy, if that’s possible. “I had no idea. Thanks
for clearing that up.”

I’m about to give him a playful
shove when I stop myself. I don’t do stuff like that. He senses that I was
about to touch him and tenses. When I don’t, we keep walking as if nothing has
happened.

We decide against getting
something to eat, and JJ and Sylvan walk us back to Lizzy’s place because it’s
closer than mine. When we get there we say goodnight, the whole day having left
me a little confused. But I know it’s for the best that JJ and I are just
friends, so I promise myself to try not to worry about it. Both Lizzy and I are
tired after a long weekend, and I’m feeling withdrawal because of the lack of
girl talk lately. We have a lot to catch up on.

As I turn to follow Lizzy, I see
JJ watching me. My heart skips. Just having his eyes on me makes me feel hot in
places I thought were forever cold. His expression, normally so casual, is
intense. I’ve never seen his eyes hot like that and it takes my breath away.
His face is filled with longing. Without a word he raises his hand and I wave
back, then scurry after Lizzy.

“So, you and JJ were talking
about his girlfriend?” Lizzy bursts out as soon as door to her apartment
building closes behind us. She can’t contain herself. “Have you two moved into
the dreaded friend zone?”

A spike of concern shoots down my
spine, but I manage to roll my eyes. “Yeah, I mean, I just asked where she
was,” I say, shrugging. “It’s a natural topic. They’ve been together for a long
time.”

“So, you’re comfortable with
him?” Lizzy is staring at me. She hasn’t even moved up the stairs yet. “I mean,
you looked comfortable with him and you don’t look comfortable with many people
so. . . . You just look happy.”

“Yeah,” I say, after a long
pause. I take a deep breath. Letting my guard down is a strange feeling. It’s
been so long since I let anyone in, I’m not sure I know how. “I think so.”

She beams at me. “Good, this is
good. Girlfriends don’t last forever.” She rubs her hands together like she’s
plotting something.