The Cupid Chronicles (15 page)

I wonder what JFK thought of her?

“Who's that handsome curly-haired boy you were with at the turkey dance?” Suzanna asks.

“I wasn't with him. We were all just hanging out as friends.”

Suzanna laughs. “Honey, I can spot lovin' eyes a hundred miles away. You couldn't take your baby blues off that boy and he couldn't keep his off you either.”

“I don't know, Suzanna. I'm so confused.”

“Good,” she says, “if it ain't confusing, it ain't fun.”

“But you see, there's this other girl …”

“The redhead with the big moo-mas?”

“Ruby,” I say, and laugh. Suzanna laughs too.

“I saw her,” she says. “But she can't hold a candle to you, honey.”

“Well, it's just that I think Ruby likes JFK too.”

“His name is J-F-K?” Suzanna gushes. “I just love a man with initials.”

“And I think Ruby finagled it so that JFK won a trip to the Super Bowl with her in her family's private jet—”

“Whoa there,” Suzanna says. “Money can't buy love, suga'. Not true love. If you want that boy, you've got to learn his heart.”

“What?”

“You've got to find out what he loves. Maybe it's a sport, or he's got some big dream…. Find out what he loves and then show him you think it's the most fascinating thing since cotton candy.”

“But what if I don't like the things he likes most?”

“Don't worry, Willa girl. You don't look at someone the way you two were looking at each other if you don't already know your hearts match.”

The stretch limos with “Blazin', Blazin', it's Amazin'” slogans painted on the sides pull up after dinner on Sunday. After Suzanna Jubilee's Daisydew USA pageant next weekend, they're off to Paris for Christmas and then to their California house for the Miss American Role Model preliminaries.

There's a whole lot of hugging and promises to be back in the spring.

What does JFK love?
I wonder as I write in my diary. I know he likes football. I know he likes rap music. But those are just things. I wonder what he really
cares about
inside? I wonder what he wants to be? I wonder if he has a dream….

CHAPTER 21
 
Winter Vacation Plans
 

Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight,
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

—Shakespeare,
Romeo and Juliet

Community Service meets after school. Plans for the “Summer in the Snow Beach Party” are swimming along nicely.

“Sam is renting extra space heaters and getting sand for the floor,” I say.

“Daddy knows the owner of the new Roche Brothers market,” Tina says. “I'll see if they'll donate the hot dogs and hamburgers.”

JFK, Jessie, and Luke come in. “Where's your new friend, Willa?” Luke asks.

He means Suzanna Jubilee.

“Her family left,” I say. “They were just visiting.”

Jessie and Luke look distraught.

“But it's good you're here,” I say “We're making plans for the next fundraising event. A Summer in the Snow Beach Party in the barn.”

“My uncle's friend is a DJ,” JFK says. “He might do it for free. I'll call him tonight.” JFK hasn't said another word about the movies.

“And Luke and I'll play free, too,” Jessie volunteers.

What's a beach party without buoys? Tina and I look at each other and smile.

“And how about a snowman contest?” I say. “If we have enough snow.”

“We'll be in our bathing suits, Willa,” Tina reminds me.

“Oooh, nice,” Jessie says. Tina punches his arm and giggles.

Oh no, bathing suits. How could I forget? I'd much rather be in a ski jacket outside making snowmen, than dancing in a bathing suit next to Tina and Ruby.

We move on to the Midwinter Night's Dream. The boys groan. “Just give me a job later,” JFK says to me as they leave.

“The gym is reserved and I'm working on a band,” Ruby says. “Committee members, why don't you give your reports?”

Trish and Emily got all of the paper goods donated. Lauren says decorations are under control. Caroline found a florist. Alexa says Mama Java's is supplying coffee and Kelsey's sending home a flyer asking parents to make fancy desserts.

“Okay, girls, listen to this!” Tina is dying to share her matchmaking questionnaire. She's been working on it night and day.

1. What's your favorite food?
   
2. What's your favorite pizza topping?
   
3. What's your favorite dessert?”
   

Are all the questions about food?” I ask

“Food's important, Willa. Especially to boys.

4. What's your favorite candy?

5. What's your favorite ice cream? … I mean the actual cold stuff …

“Oh, come on, Tina….” I say.

6. What's your favorite TV show?

7. What's your all-time favorite movie?

8. What's your favorite team?

9. What's your favorite Cape beach?

10. What's your favorite gum?

“And I'm still working on a tiebreaker—”

“I've got an idea,” I say, but Tina and Ruby are late for nail appointments. “Same time next week,” I say I check with Mr. Kay about an algebra question then head to the lab to finish a science report. It's getting dark by the time I leave school.

Outside, I look up. The first star tonight.
I wish I may, I wish I might …
I turn the corner toward the bike racks and there is JFK. Sitting on the bench by the willow tree. He's writing fast and furiously, like he's got an idea that he doesn't want to lose.

I know that feeling. I wait until he's finished. “Hi, Joseph.”

“Willa, hi.” He closes the notebook.

“Homework?” I ask.

“Yeah, no … lyrics.”

“Can I hear them?” I say. I sit down next to him on the bench.

He looks at me. “I guess so.” He opens the notebook. “Here, you can read it.”

Winter Vacation Plans

rich burb mommas strategizing, private bay
or ocean side?
poor curb mommas agonizing, medicine
or heat or fries?
winter vacation plans

“Wow, Joseph. This is rap? This is good. Really good.”

“You like it?” He smiles.

“I love it. ‘Winter Vacation Plans.' Great title. What got you writing this?”

“I don't know,” JFK says. “It just bothers me that some people are mega-rich and other people can't even buy their kids decent food or medicine when they're sick. It's not right. My mom volunteers at this homeless shelter in Hyannis and I help her sometimes. I thought it would just be old drunks. But no, lots of times it's mothers with little kids who got evicted from their apartments or their husbands beat them up and they're scared …”

Wow, I had no idea he cared about these things.
Important things. Not only is JFK beautiful on the outside, he's beautiful on the inside, too. If I ever had one smidgen of doubt, I don't anymore. I am totally in love with this boy.

“And it's funny,” JFK says, “but reading Shakespeare's been good for my lyrics. I know everybody in class thinks his stories are lame, but that guy could groove. He had a rhythm. He'd have made a mean rapper.”

“Well, maybe you could help Shakespeare get his groove back.”

“Yeah, maybe,” JFK says. He laughs. “Right after I end world hunger.”

I write in my journal and then open Shakespeare to
The Winter's Tale:

When you do dance, I wish you a wave o' the sea,
that you might ever do nothing but that.

I imagine Shakespeare standing on a beach. He lived on an island, England, of course. I look out at the same ocean he did. And I can tell he loved nature.

Here's flowers for you … lavender … marigold…
Daffodils that come before the swallow dares and take
the winds of March with beauty.

He talks so much about the wind, I'm certain Shakespeare knew that feeling of the sea wind whistling through your ears, walking until your worries wash away and your heart is light and happy.

Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,
And merrily hent the stile-a'.
A merry heart goes all the day … sad tires in a mile-a.

That passage always makes me smile-a. Some day I'll see the Globe Theatre and visit the places that inspired old Will. Maybe JFK will come too.

Shakespeare talks so much about love. It seems that word is in everything he wrote.
I love a ballad in print …
he said. Me too, Will, me too. Some day, I want to be a writer. But like you say in
The Winter's Tale … there's time enough for that.

CHAPTER 22
 
Sing it, Sister!
 

Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Savior's birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long;
And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad,
The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallowed and so gracious is the time.

—Shakespeare,
Hamlet

We do a lot of celebrating at BUC in December: Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa…. Mum starts the month off with a candlelight service. The room is packed.

“Nearly all the world's great religions speak of light this season,” Mum says. “The oil lamps of Hanukkah, the star over Bethlehem …”

As Mum talks, she lights a candle. She walks slowly down the aisle, stopping to light the candle of each person on the end of a row. Those people then turn and light the candles of the people next to them, and on and on and on. I wave to Mrs. Saperstone across the aisle. Dr. Swammy is sitting next to her. Too bad Nana and Gramp are missing this, but I'm sure they're having a great time in New York.

Mum lights my candle. It flickers and sputters. I light Sam's candle. Sam turns toward Stella. Soon, everyone's face is aglow. I see JFK with his family a few rows back. He raises his candle. I raise mine back.