but thinking about music made my mind shift into thinking about Midge Spelling. That was no good, either.
The images were fresh in my mind. The way she looked on that poster. The way Johnny had wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning into her as though they had their own private language. The way her lips curled around every sound she uttered.
Kevin pulled over beside a park a few blocks south, and I leaned over to kiss him before he’d even turned off the engine. He laughed, but he went along with it, twisting the key with one hand and sliding the other around my waist. I shut my eyes, until I realized I was still thinking about Midge.
I was kissing him, but I was thinking about kissing her. I was wondering—and not for the first time—whether kissing a girl would feel different from kissing a boy.
Would she be that much gentler? Would her skin feel that much smoother?
I wrenched my eyes open. Kevin was so close all I could see were his pores and his eyelashes. I’d never noticed how thick they were.
This wasn’t fair. He had no idea what was happening in my head. I couldn’t tell him, but I couldn’t let it keep going, either. I may not know what it meant to be “in love,” the way the disco singers talked about, but I knew what I had with Kevin wasn’t it.
I pulled away.
“I, um.” I took a long breath. I’d never imagined saying these words, but suddenly I was absolutely sure they were the right ones. “I think we should break up.”
He froze, his arm still around my waist. A second later he drew back sharply. “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re…” He shook his head, as though he was in a fog. “What?”
I fumbled for my purse. “I’m sorry. I should go.”
“Go where? What are you talking about? Things have been kind of off lately, sure, but…you show up out of the blue and say you want to come here, I thought—”
“I’m sorry, Kevin.”
“Please stop saying you’re sorry.”
“I—Okay.”
I wanted to apologize again. I wanted to say it as many times as it took until he believed me, but it was clear he wasn’t going to.
I climbed out of the car, and by some miracle, I didn’t start crying until I’d made it halfway down the block.
The bus stop was one street up. If I walked slowly enough, I might be able to make the tears stop before I got there.
I shut my eyes, expecting Midge to float into my mind again. The usual image of her growling into a microphone, her lips curved wide.
Instead, the face I saw Tammy’s.
Tammy, laughing with the women at the bookstore. Tammy, rolling her eyes at Peter in the living room, Dallas playing on the TV screen behind us. Tammy, crying quietly in the O’Sullivans’ kitchen.
Tammy, dressed in rumpled clothes on my doorstep, smiling faintly as my whole world changed to let her in.
When I got home, the house was dark. I grabbed an open box of Lorna Doones someone had left out on the kitchen counter and dragged myself up the stairs. I’ve been lying on my bed ever since, writing, hoping—
Wait. That was the door.
She’s home. She’s here.
More later.
Sharon
Monday, June 19, 1978
Dear Harvey,
It’s six in the morning, but I’ve already been awake for an hour. Sharon’s fast asleep. I know because I can hear her snoring all the way downstairs. She has a very distinctive snore, but she’s a light sleeper. I snuck down here so I could write without waking her up.
Aunt Mandy’s back in my life, Harvey. I can’t believe I was naive enough to think I’d left it all behind. But to think she’d talk that way to Sharon…
I should back up. There’s a lot I need to tell you.
Javi asked me to help him clean out the walk-in cooler after we closed