Between Us and the Moon (24 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Maizel

BOOK: Between Us and the Moon
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TWENTY-NINE

FOR THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON, I WALKED
throughout town practicing all the ways I was going to tell Andrew about Scarlett. None of them sounded right.

Already a couple varieties of catering trucks and the usual smattering of BMWs and Mercedes make a small line in front of Nancy’s house. As I walk up the steps of Seaside Stomachache, I recount my plan. First, I am changing into the black dress.

Second, I will get Andrew cornered and tell him about Scarlett. The party should be too busy for him to find out my age. I can keep him distracted from that conversation. Yeah, that sounds perfect. An hour should be enough to make Nancy happy and—

“Bean!” Mom says when I walk in the door. “Oh good. You’re here.” I’m amazed she noticed I was gone, but this isn’t a typical day for Mom. “We need to take pictures in ten minutes.”

It smells like garlic and cooking spices.

In Mom’s hand is the cupcake dress.

Nancy steps up behind her. “I cannot believe how late you are.” Nancy wears a white dress that resembles a huge marshmallow.

Mom shoves the cupcake dress in my hands and the tulle scratches at my arms.

“Go up and get ready!” Nancy says and waddles away into the kitchen.

Waiters dressed in white button-down shirts and black pants shine the silver in the kitchen.

Mom puts a pair of gold studs in her ears.

“Your sister is getting dressed now; check on her, will you?”

I nod and look at the time. Six o’clock. The party is due to start in thirty minutes.

I climb the rest of the stairs to my room. I don’t want to check on my sister. She can take care of herself.

I lay the dress down on my bed—thar she blows. The tiered pink dress with enough tulle and padding to protect me in a motorcycle accident. I lift it from the hanger and stop at the full-length mirror behind my door. I let flashes of last night ooze through my mind.
Our bodies under the warm sheets. Andrew touches me until I am writhing on the bed. Tugging and touching and placing my mouth all over him until I have to get a towel from the bathroom.

Now here I stand in front of the mirror in a strapless bra and panties.

This body. This girl. I am not who I was when I got here at the beginning of the summer. I am the girl yelling to the sky on the back of a dune buggy. The girl accepted by a group for the first time. I am the girl who wants to try the world outside of the biology lab. I still want to be in that bio lab, of course. I just want
more.
I want both.

“Bean!” Mom calls. I can barely hear her over the music and voices now echoing throughout the house. I leave the cupcake dress on the bed and slip on my new dress and delicate black heels.

I draw black liner that I bought from the makeup store down on Main Street along my eyelid. I sweep some bronzer over my already tanned cheeks. I click off the light and just when I step out, the doorbell rings for the first time. It keeps ringing as more and more guests arrive. Chatter and orders from the cooks make all the sounds jumble together.

I close my eyes. I can do this. The dress and Andrew. No problem.

“Mrs. Levin! This house!” Trish’s voice screeches up the stairs.

Tucker is here. My stomach fills with ice.

“We just have to take some pictures first, but Scarlett is waiting on the patio,” Mom says, and the door opens, letting in the live band’s rendition of Sinatra and the party chatter.

As the door closes, Scarlett cries, “Oh my God! Trish, I missed you!”

Step by step, I descend the stairs. I run my hands down the black cotton and lift my chin high. I step into the kitchen just as Nancy calls my name. I stop at the kitchen island and even though I am ready for it, my heart pounds.

Mom is outside with Dad, and I can’t see Tucker with all of the people moving around.

Nancy shuffles through the RSVPs and whines, “You’re annoyingly punctual. To the minute. Must you be late for the one evening I actually need you to be on time? It’s time for pictures. And—” She glances up.

I clench my jaw, cross my arms, and don’t move from next to the island.

“What is this? What the hell are you wearing? Maeve! Maeve, what is your daughter wearing?”

“My dress,” I say.

“Go change right this instant.”

Nancy walks away and when she realizes I’m not heading dutifully upstairs she turns.

“I am not going to be in a family photo in that dress,” I repeat. “I’m not going to be at this party in that dress.”

Nancy turns fully all the way around.

“What? We went over this.”


You
went over it,” I say and lean a hand on the counter. I don’t even see Nancy. I am the heat in my cheeks and the rapid zoom of my heart. “
You
always tell me what you think I need. You never actually ask what I want.”

“You don’t know—”

“Yes. I do know!” I yell and smack my hand on the granite
countertop. It stings and radiates up to my wrist. “I know exactly what I want. Maybe you don’t like it or it doesn’t make sense to you, but it makes
perfect
sense to me.”

Nancy steps very close to me and the kitchen staff pretends like they don’t see this very public fight. Nancy breathes so hard through her nose, she’s like a bull.

“You will get up there and change,” she says and punctuates each word,
“right now!”

“No!” I yell. A waitress stops filling a silver tray of puffed pastries when I yell but immediately goes back to what she was doing.

“Nancy! Bean!” Mom calls from outside. “The photographer has started taking pictures of the . . .” Mom’s words trail away and she stops next to Nancy. Her jaw drops when she catches sight of me.

Nancy brings her hand to her oversized chest and keeps shaking her head at me.

“I don’t understand you,” Nancy says. “You barely say thank you for what I do for you.”

I’m trembling.

“Why?” I ask and have to breathe heavily through my nose. “Why do you insist on telling me who I am?”

“Bean? What’s going on?” Mom asks.

“Damn it,” I continue yelling at Nancy. “If you would just
listen
to me you might know what to talk to me about!” I feel unhinged, like a telescope I can’t quite focus. I want to bite something until it makes my teeth break. I just want them to
hear
me.

Nancy looks to my new dress, then the floor, and when her eyes land on me, her expression softens. She’s not a bull; she’s
hurt and I’m a jerk. Nancy shakes her head slowly this time and says quietly, “I don’t know how to reach you. I try to suggest new things for you to do. The teen dance, trips to the salon with me, but you always fight me on it. I can’t connect with you.”

I don’t know how to follow. I’m expecting Nancy to be angry, so this softer reaction is confusing.

“I’ve tried all summer. I bought you this expensive dress, I am giving you my car, I—” Her voice squeaks and she grabs a napkin from the counter and dabs at her eyes. “You just talk to my sister. You barely ask how I am. You don’t come visit me and now Scarlett is leaving and . . .”

I can’t believe this. This does not compute.

Nancy’s full-on crying now, and I step to her, grab a couple of napkins, and hand them over. She collapses onto a bar stool and wipes her nose.

Mom continues to be silent. Her eyes are wide and I don’t think she has ever looked at me like this in her entire life. Scarlett, sure. But me? Never.

“You really want me to visit you?” I ask Nancy.

“I don’t expect you to understand me like you do your grandmother. You two are cut from the same mold. But . . . that beautiful dress.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I just couldn’t be humiliated. It’s for a baby.”

She looks me up and down.

“Oh,” she says with a sniff. “Maybe it was.”

I could hug Nancy right now. I almost want to tell her about Andrew. In one fleeting second, it passes through me. Maybe for
just this one instant she’ll understand.

“I want to like more than just science and the stars,” I say. “But I can’t do it the way you want me to. You have to just let me be me.”

I get it. Maybe for the first time ever. Nancy
needs
us. She needs to bother me, rag on me, and stay on top of every little choice I make. We’re all she has for family. Gran is in California and Nancy is alone. I didn’t care or I didn’t know how I could play a role in her life that wasn’t a burden. I assumed, just like I had with many, many people that Nancy didn’t like me. Nancy loves me. Maybe too much.

“Did you spend your birthday money on this?” Mom asks.

Outside, on the patio, Carly calls Mom’s name. Her voice is close, which means Tucker isn’t far behind.

“No. I bought it with the rest of the Pizza Palace money.”

“Maeve?” Carly calls from the patio again, and Mom needs to sweep out to join her friend.

Nancy pushes up from the island stool. She sniffs again and wipes her nose. Before she walks away, I add, “I saw a picture of you,” I say. “Of you and Gran in bathing suits. You were really young.”

She dabs at her eyes again. “I think that was our last summer before I went to college.”

“Can I keep it? I mean, I took it, but I can put it back. I really want it.”

Nancy looks at me, her head slightly cocked.

“I am sure we can cut me out of it if you just want the picture of Gran.”

“I want it because both of you are in it.”

Nancy sniffs with a little smile.

“Sure,” she says. “You can keep it.”

She reaches a hand to me but drops her arm and I wonder if she wanted to hug me like she does Scarlett. Instead, she just nods.

I don’t want her to be alone in this house all fall and winter.

She turns to join Mom outside.

“Nancy?” I say.

She glances back with a small, “Hmm?”

“I’ll come visit this winter. If you want me to. As long as you let me bring my telescope and show you some things on the beach.”

I think I see another smile curve at the corner of her mouth.

“You got it,” she says. She points at me and adds, “Just don’t bring that algae, I don’t want it staining my carpet again.”

I want to laugh but don’t.

“You got it.”

THIRTY

I
HAVE
TO FIND ANDREW. I’LL FIND TUCKER
eventually, but this is step one.

Down on the lawn, Trish and Scarlett grab some shrimp off of an appetizer plate. Tucker hangs out with his dad. I can’t help but pause when I see him. He’s tan, which I haven’t seen in a long time. He’s filling his tux out too. I guess he worked out this summer.

There’s Andrew! I don’t know how long he’s been here or what he already knows. He crosses the lawn, stopping at the bar outside the tent. He spins around a couple times and searches the crowd, I assume he is looking for me. I have to get to him
now.
I’m down the patio stairs in seconds. Mom and Dad are in the
tent, and Nancy is near the band. They are also far enough away from Andrew. Perfect.

“Andrew!” I cry. He nearly spits out his drink when he sees me.

“Sarah. How do you know Scarlett? I didn’t know—”

“I’ll explain all of that.”

“Wow, you look great.”

“I have to talk to you.”

I take him by the hand and lead him away from the tent and down near the entrance to the bay beach. Scarlett is on the beach already. She’s taken her hair down so it flows over her shoulders. She’s laughing open mouthed and touching the arm of—oh my God. She’s touching Curtis’s arm.

I can’t breathe so well. I really do have to do this. Don’t I? It’s darker here and the sky has faded to a light lavender gray.

“What is happening, Sarah?” Andrew’s voice pierces my thoughts. “This is your aunt’s house. I’m so confused.”

Shelby stands next to Scarlett too. This is it—the moment.

“Listen, I have to tell you something. I tried telling you at the docks today.”

“Sarah!” Curtis calls and peers down the pathway at Andrew and me.

“It’s about Scarlett,” I add quickly.

“Is that Sarah?” Curtis calls out again. I want to cringe at the mention of my name.

“What about Scarlett?” Andrew says.

“I know her. I didn’t tell you, but I do and—”

“You know her?!”

Curtis runs up the pathway and leads Andrew by his jacket
sleeve down to the beach. Andrew keeps a hold of my hand.

Scarlett turns from some guys I recognize. Her eyebrows furrow and she looks like a confused bird seeing me next to Andrew. She keeps looking me up and down.

Andrew’s hand falls away from mine.

“How do you know Scarlett?” he asks again.

They’re all here: Shelby, Tate, and all my new friends. A small bonfire is crackling. I swallow hard. I know most of the people beyond the bonfire too. Trish flirts with one of the guys I met this summer—I can’t remember his name. But these are my friends and it’ll be only moments before they
know
. I won’t be Sarah, I’ll be Bean, sixteen and a liar.

“That’s my sister,” Scarlett says.


This
is your sister?” Curtis says. “What are you? Twins?”

“Sister?” Andrew’s disbelief is so soft. I want to run us both out of here.

“I wanted to tell you,” I say quietly. His eyes meet mine and I want to take away the confusion in his gaze. “At the docks today. Lots of times. I never quite got it out.”

“Twins?” Scarlett says with a cock of her head. “Please. Do we
look
like we’re twins?”

I swallow hard. She’ll never defend me. She’s going to ruin everything. I was completely stupid to put this off for so long. All I need is for Mom, Dad, and Nancy to come down here too. Scarlett opens her mouth. Everything I built this summer is about to blow away and I’ll be nothing but Tucker’s old scraps.

Curtis throws an arm over Scarlett’s shoulder. He’s already
drunk so he sways a little. He’s rolled up the pants of his tuxedo so he has sand all over his ankles. “MIT and Juilliard?” he says.

He hangs on Scarlett. Andrew is by my side; I can feel his body heat.

“Two geniuses in one family?” Curtis says. “How come you never told us you were Scarlett’s sister? Why did you keep it a secret, buddy?” Curtis throws his arm over Andrew’s shoulder. He remains silent. “How old are you, little sis?” Curtis asks.

Scarlett and I are locked eye-to-eye.

Scarlett . . . please . . .

With a flip of her hair, Scarlett says, “She’s going to MIT. You figure it out.”

I want to double over from the relief that rushes over me.

Scarlett defended me. She lied for me.

“Scarlett! Sarah!” Mom calls from up near the tent. “Pictures.”

“I’m sorry,” I say to Andrew. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you that Scarlett is my sister,” I say quickly. Across from me, Shelby smirks, but it’s not evil, it’s knowing. But not even she knows the real truth. My lies are so layered that I have to keep track of which ones are consistent with specific people.

Scarlett sips her champagne flute and nods for me to follow her up the path.

“Scarlett!” Nancy’s voice now squeals over the party music.

Andrew keeps his hands in his pockets.

“You should have told me,” he says. “That was a big secret to keep.”

“Huge,” I say while walking backward to my sister. “I’ll be right back.”

He lifts his gaze to me and stops me by gently touching my forearm.

“It’s what I said about her, isn’t it? I called her,” he lowers his voice, “I called her a bitch at that party.”

“Hardly,” I say, even though I could use that justification easily. I can’t lie anymore. I just can’t say one more untrue thing. I step to Andrew and squeeze his hand. “There’s something else I have to tell you. I’ll be back,” I say and hurry after my sister toward a collection of photographers up near the tent.

The truth about MIT and my age won’t change
who
I am to Andrew. The truth of who I am when I am with Andrew is absolutely real.

Once we get next to the tent, the main photographer maneuvers us around so Nancy is sitting in a white chair in the center. Behind us is the bay and the setting sun. The sky is scattered with hazy gray clouds and the fall of twilight makes the sky the color of a bruise. I can’t meet my sister’s eyes but I can feel her watching me. I pretend everything is normal.

“Let’s get this in before sunset, guys. Let’s get the sisters on each side of Mom and Dad. Dad, you go on the right; Mom, the left.”

I stand next to Dad, and Mom is next to Scarlett. Thankfully, Andrew doesn’t come up from the bay beach. The happy jazz music doesn’t make sense given how hard my heart is pounding.

Scarlett
defended
me.

“And . . . smile!”

Flashes explode and we move positions twice. Scarlett still glares at me while Mom and Dad pose with Nancy.

I need to tell Andrew about my age.
He knows me. He does. He’ll understand.
When Scarlett is taking pictures with Nancy, I glance down the long path back toward the beach. I don’t see Andrew.

Through the space between the spiky branches and jagged leaves, Scarlett’s friends dance around the bonfire. The moon should be high in the sky but the clouds cover the stars and move even faster than they did a few moments ago. Soon they won’t be visible at all and the rain will come. There, on this strange nature night, are all the people who I coveted this summer. There’s Shelby and her dreads. Curtis, who seems to have given up on Scarlett and is all over some girl I don’t recognize. They’re all together under the crescent moon like abstract angels. Too perfect for real life.

I turn to the tent to try to find Andrew there. There is a long line for food now. I stand at the edge of the tent and lawn and search for Andrew in the crowd.

“Your aunt has . . . the worst taste ever.”

Tucker has stepped next to me. His clipped humor is familiar. Even the way he talks when he’s trying to be funny; he starts out slow and then finishes his sentences fast. I forgot how much I liked his delivery. We stand a foot or so apart. We don’t hug or embrace. Shaking his hand seems weird, so I nod.

Waiters walk with trays of food and stand at various stations. The twelve-piece band has moved on from classics and is now playing music from the turn of the century that’s authentic to the
Titanic
disaster. I only know that because the party planner screams into a walkie, “
Titanic
music.
Titanic
, go!”

“Who are you looking for? That guy you were with earlier? Is that your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

The wind makes Tucker’s hair skate over his eyes. The clouds are moving fast but break apart just enough for the moonlight to trickle through.

Mom and Dad’s friends stand in their fancy tuxes and eat appetizers off square cocktail napkins with the symbol of the White Star on the corner. Nancy is back from taking pictures and is clearly over the moon describing to everyone the prestige of the ice sculpture artist. Her arms flail everywhere and her many gems sparkle when they glint off the candlelight.

“School starts soon,” Tucker says. I’m not surprised this is what he talks about first. I used to think being predictable meant we were perfect for each other. I shrug.

“Sorry again for what happened,” he says. “With Becky. I wanted . . .”

“To tell me?”

“You were always so busy.”

“Please,” I say, and scoff. “You were shady. You could have told me a hundred different times. It would have sucked, but I would have understood.”

He shrugs but doesn’t tell me I’m right.

“What was the phrase you used? I ‘watch the world’?”

I can’t help it. That phrase still burns.

“I never said that.”

I laugh so hard it nearly makes me cough.

“You don’t know half as much about me as you think you do,
Tucker. Did you know that I decided not to do Bio Club next year?” I raise my chin in the air.

Only as I say it do I know it’s true. But I know a lot of things are true that I didn’t before.

“And I probably won’t tutor,” I add.

“Why?”

“Because I want to volunteer at Ninigret Observatory. And I think I’m going to take up lifeguarding.”

“Wow, except it’ll be freezing in a couple months.”

“Indoor pools, Tucker. You have, like, zero perspective,” I say and flip my hair over my shoulder in a very Scarlett move. Tucker doesn’t reply. We’re silent a moment and I need to circulate back down to the beach to find Andrew. Though Scarlett is down there.

“I gotta—” I start to say.

Tucker leans forward and interrupts, “Is that . . .”

“What?”

He points. In the center of the tent is the enormous ice sculpture. I saw it, I just didn’t really pay attention at first. Tucker cleans off his glasses to make sure what he’s seeing is real.

“I think it’s a mini re-creation of the
Titanic
leaving port,” I say.

Under it, in blue lights it says,
BON VOYAGE
,
SCARLETT
.

I shake my head and laugh. Tucker starts laughing too. I can’t help it. I laugh because Scarlett defended me. Because I’m in this new dress that’s all mine, and because Nancy has an ice sculpture shaped like a large ship about to sail to its doom. Tucker is laughing so hard he’s crying and wiping his eyes on his jacket sleeve.
My stomach clenches, I bend over, unable to stop it. Oh, it hurts. I’m laughing too hard. My face hurts, I massage at my cheeks.

“Everything from the table linens to the waiters’ uniforms is meant to replicate the
Titanic
,” I say.

“That’s awful!” he cries.

“Isn’t it?”

The brass band plays and I turn, wiping my eyes again. My laughter stills. Sunset has fully fallen over the party, but it is muted behind clouds. The tips of hydrangea flutter. Maybe Nancy will get her wish—the tropical storm will miss us after all.

“I do want to be friends,” Tucker says now that our laughter has faded. I look away from the hydrangea. Tucker’s been watching me.

“One day,” I say. “Just give me time.”

I don’t wait for him to respond; I walk away. I don’t need to get Tucker’s response or his approval. It’s okay that he’s here. I’ve changed and so has he.

So many people are dancing that I have to walk around the perimeter of the backyard. The first whip of wind makes the sides of the tent snap with a loud
thwap
.

From down the pathway, on the beach, Andrew waves at me. I head toward him. This is it—I draw a deep breath. I will lead him from his friends to somewhere quiet.

Scarlett barrels toward me from the direction of the driveway. Her face is redder than I’ve ever seen it and the wind lifts her hair from her shoulders. Her nostrils flare and she shakes her head. She looks like Mom when she’s
really
angry.

Scarlett digs her nails around my left shoulder and drags me away to the area underneath the patio stairs.

“Ow!” I say as her fingernails poke into my skin.

We are alone here, even though the party continues on behind us.

“I just heard. Are you crazy?” she whispers.

I stand up tall and turn my nose in the air. I have to rub at my arms and I’m sure she made me bleed or close to it. Fine. I’ll confess. I’ll tell her about the hundreds of outfits of hers I wore this summer.

“Bean. Andrew Davis is too old for you.”

“He’s nineteen.”

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