Sharon dropped her gaze. “I don’t know. They weren’t that great last time I saw them.”
“But you gushed so much about the lead singer. What’s her name? Marge?”
“I, um. I don’t remember. Hey, there’s a new band I heard about, maybe we could see them instead. The Dead Kennedys.”
“Ha. Great name. Bet they’re from Orange County.”
We kept talking. About music, at first, but other things, too. We talked about Carolyn, and about Kevin. We talked about our parents, and how we’d always felt destined to disappoint them. How we knew we were supposed to feel bad about that, but sometimes it was hard.
When we heard Peter come in, we could’ve gone out to see him, but we both instinctively lowered our voices instead. This night was only about the two of us.
I’m thinking a lot since I woke up this morning to the sound of Sharon’s soft snores in the next bed, but I don’t want to write down the rest of what I’m thinking. I don’t want to have to read it later and be disappointed all over again.
But…she broke up with him, Harvey.
Something’s changing. I don’t know what, exactly, but I’m actually starting to have hope.
Yours, Tammy
Monday, June 19, 1978
Dear Tammy,
I was thinking about what we said last night—how we miss writing to each other—and I realized we could start doing it again. It might be kind of strange to write letters to someone who literally sleeps in the same room as you, but no one else has to know we’re doing it. Besides, we can keep the letters short, since we already know what we’ve been doing all day. But just sitting down last night and writing “Dear Tammy” again felt cooler than I’d ever imagined it would.
Ha—you just let out a big snore. Did you know you snore? Did you know I’m sitting here writing this letter a few feet away from you while you snore?
Anyway, let me know if you’re up for it, and please don’t tell my brother. He’d make fun of me for years.
Yours, Sharon
Tuesday, June 20, 1978
Dear Sharon,
This is the best idea I’ve ever heard. Yes, let’s keep writing to each other. It’s perfect—we won’t have to wait days for the mail to come anymore!
And for your information, you snore, too. Your snoring is kind of cute, though. I didn’t know snoring could be cute.
I’m about to fall asleep and you’re still downstairs, so I’m going to leave this on your pillow now. I’ll try to keep my snoring to a minimum tonight!
Yours, Tammy
Wednesday, June 21, 1978
Dear Tammy,
You’re right, about not having to wait for the mail. I hadn’t thought of that. Finding your letter on my pillow last night was awesome. I’m writing this one at work during nap time so I can give it to you to read before dinner, and that’s awesome, too.
Hey, I don’t know if you remember, but Gay Freedom Day is this Sunday. Lisa and Alex were talking about it again at the bookstore yesterday while you were in the back room with Evelyn. Want to go?
Uh-oh, Penny woke up early. Got to go!
Yours, Sharon
Thursday, June 22, 1978
Dear Sharon,
You’re kidding, right? Of course I remember. I’ve only been looking forward to Gay Freedom Day in San Francisco for years.
Do you think we’ll get to see Harvey? In person?
It doesn’t seem possible. It’d be like running into Charlton Heston or Grace Kelly. It barely seems real.
You and Peter probably went last year, too, right? God, we’d barely started writing to each other back then. Both of us were still keeping all those secrets.