I&#39ll Be There (32 page)

Emily stared at him. Taking apart a treadmill seemed like an awful lot of work for a guest. Even if the person stayed a week. Her father leaned the mattress against the wall and started back out
to the garage. ‘I’ve gotta get my tools.’

Emily called after him, ‘Wait – who’s coming again?’

Her father called over his shoulder, ‘Family.’

Emily watched him go. Duh. So it must be Aunt Jean. Everyone had a love-hate relationship with Aunt Jean.

She was smart and funny, but she was also a talkaholic. You literally couldn’t get Aunt Jean to keep her mouth closed. And whenever someone was sick of her, you’d hear the excuse,
‘Well, what are you going to do? She’s family.’

Hadn’t Emily heard her parents talking about Aunt Jean having some kind of health problem? Or was it financial? She really hadn’t been paying attention in the last month to anything.
And that made her feel bad.

She was going to make a big effort with Aunt Jean.

Emily put Bobby’s boutonniere in the refrigerator and headed upstairs to shower, wondering how long Aunt Jean would be in town. She was going to put a
Welcome
sign in the little
room before she left. It was important to make guests feel at home.

Emily realised, as she stepped out of the shower, that she’d had an okay day. The first one in a long, long, long time.

And then she realised that part of what had made it so nice was that she hadn’t had the endless stream of texts and phone calls from Bobby Ellis.

It was the first day since April that she could inhale without feeling his hot breath only inches away. She’d let the prom king have his day but make sure he realised that they would never
be more than just friends.

Lots of girls liked Bobby Ellis. What did he see in her, anyway? She wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. With anyone.

When she explained it all to him she knew she wouldn’t have to worry about being convincing.

Debbie and Riddle were making good time. Traffic was light on the interstate, and Debbie estimated they’d get home at ten that night. Riddle hadn’t once shut his
eyes. He simply stared out the front windshield, his new inhaler clutched in his left hand, afraid that if he fell asleep, he’d wake up in a rock pile somewhere in Utah, only to discover
he’d been dreaming.

After three hours, they stopped and had pepperoni pizza and lemonades at a place right off the highway. It wasn’t the kind of healthy food Debbie would normally seek out, but they ate with
a lot of enthusiasm, finishing a large pizza between them. When they were done, Riddle carefully folded up the paper place setting decorated with a map of Italy. He put it into his pocket for
safekeeping along with two packets of sugar.

Back in the car, Debbie gave him the banana cake with the buttercream frosting that she had brought the day before from home. Riddle unfolded the paper place mat and put it on his lap while he
ate.

Then Debbie tuned on the radio, and right away Riddle started humming. Debbie was surprised, because Riddle knew the words and the tune. She turned up the volume, and they were suddenly both
singing.

I’ll reach out my hand to you,

I’ll have faith in all you do,

Just call my name and I’ll be there.

I’ll be there to comfort you

Build my world of dreams around you

I’m so glad that I found you.

I’ll be there with a love that’s strong

I’ll be your strength, I’ll keep holding on.

By the time the song was coming to an end, they were both wailing the lyrics. It took all the lung power he had, but Riddle was not to be stopped. He’d never sung before in front of anyone
except Sam, but his voice was startlingly clear and even.

When the song was over, he used his inhaler twice and found he could breathe with ease. Riddle looked over at Debbie and he exhaled.

Yes, for the first time in a long time, he could breathe.

The Greyhound bus was equipped with a sound system, and it was up to the driver’s discretion if he wanted to turn it on. Most people these days had their own music to
listen to, but there weren’t many people on the bus, and it was illegal for the driver to wear his own audio headset, so now he flipped on the satellite surround system to a channel devoted
exclusively to Motown music. That worked for him.

‘I’ll Be There’ came on, and the riders, ranging in age from an eleven-year-old girl travelling with her aunt to an eighty-nine-year-old man sitting up front doing crossword
puzzles, all found themselves silently mouthing the words.

In the last seat in the far back, Sam’s eyes opened. As far as he was concerned, the song was being sung to him.

Let me fill your heart with joy and laughter

Togetherness, well that’s all I’m after

Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.

Bobby’s mother called Rory and explained that Bobby and Emily wouldn’t be there for the photos and would meet up with everyone at the prom. They’d miss the
limo ride with all the other couples.

It took a full five minutes just to get his tuxedo trousers on. Bending his leg was painful, and at this point Bobby seemed to be made of glass. His stitches were in his left leg, but he kept
complaining to his parents about pain in his right foot. He wouldn’t know for a week that he’d broken a toe when he kicked in the wall in the bathroom at Arby’s.

By the time Bobby was out the door, he was forty-five minutes late to pick up Emily. He didn’t have a corsage. And he still had the starchy smell with the patented cucumber and melon scent
overlay from the tanning spray.

But the prom king was ready.

Emily spent the extra time in her room listening to music and putting things away. Lately the place had gotten out of hand. She had stacks of books and papers and clothing
everywhere.

Emily had been surprised when she got a call from Bobby’s father telling her about the stolen car. Bobby loved that SUV. She hoped that someone would catch the thief.

At six forty-five p.m. she came downstairs. Even ten-year-old Jared, who didn’t seem to ever notice much about the physical world, said, ‘You look like a princess.’

Emily didn’t want to be mean, but she couldn’t help saying, ‘I’m wearing black. Princesses never do that.’

Jared thought about this and answered, ‘Don’t princesses go to funerals?’

Emily started to laugh.

And then her father appeared. He stopped abruptly when he saw her. ‘Wow.’

Jared piped up, ‘She’s going to a royal funeral.’

Tim made a face. ‘Jared, what on earth are you talking about?’

Emily was now really laughing.

Her father realised that he hadn’t seen that in a long, long while.

Jared held his ground. ‘I thought Bobby was the king.’

Now it was Tim who corrected Jared. ‘They are not going to a funeral.’

Jared shrugged.

And Emily, smiling, put her arm around her brother, saying, ‘If you only knew . . .’

Tim Bell then took a few photos of his son and daughter, thinking to himself that his shots from now on would be of three kids. Life took unexpected turns, that was for certain.

His wife had always wanted more children and, somehow, her wish had come true.

Jared, suddenly feeling left out, asked his father if they could forget the leftover chilli and go eat Chinese food. And as the doorbell rang, Tim agreed.

Debbie and Riddle wouldn’t be home until ten at the earliest. He and Jared would do something special together before a lot of change took place.

Bobby’s parents had to drive them to the Mountain Basin Inn. It was like they were in the sixth grade. But the group limo had left, and now it was just a question of
getting them there on time. If you weren’t inside the ballroom by seven o’clock, you weren’t allowed in at all.

Since Bobby hadn’t been able to pick up the corsage his mother had ordered, he insisted that Emily wear the boutonniere she’d made for him. He didn’t say that the fact that it
was orange made his skin crawl.

Earlier in the evening Bobby’s father had called the police station to report the stolen SUV and that was when he’d discovered that the car had been towed. But Bobby was going to
stick to his story for tonight. And his parents had agreed to back him up on that.

As far as Bobby was concerned, Emily looked good but not in a sexy way, which was really too bad. Instead, she looked sophisticated, almost foreign, and her dress wasn’t strapless or a
halterneck or sort of see-through, which was disappointing. She looked like something in a glossy magazine. And that was sort of sneaky of her.

He was going to be honest with himself. If he had a choice between him looking hot and her looking hot, he’d have picked himself. It was just the truth. He was the one who was the king.
She was just a subject. Or a student. Or whatever everyone else was. And she just had never been into the whole thing to begin with.

But Bobby could see, despite the way she looked, that as soon as she got into the car, Emily was somewhere else. He really needed her to be needy. He stared out the window wondering if there was
a way to tell her that.

When they arrived at the Mountain Basin Inn, Bobby took a deep breath and assured himself as they got out of his father’s car that the nightmare that had been his day was officially over.
Now the good times would roll. And then he heard a voice call out, ‘Booby?’

The voice was louder now. ‘Booby, how are you doing?’

Emily turned to look, and now Bobby didn’t have a choice. He glanced over his shoulder to see Olga, dressed in her spa uniform. ‘How is your arm, Booby?’

Bobby mumbled, ‘Fine.’

But Olga was a licensed cosmetologist. In two countries. Her eyes widened when she saw his face. ‘Oh dear mother of Gods, what is wrong with your skins?’

Bobby did not answer. And Emily wondered two things, how come this woman knew him, and why was Bobby being so mean to her?

Olga continued, ‘You come see me tomorrow. You still have credits for your first session from the accident.’

And then Olga reached over and touched Emily’s arm, saying in a low voice, ‘I never have anyone fall out of the facial chair before. Never.’

Once they were inside the hotel and had turned down the corridor towards the ballroom, Bobby told Emily that he’d never seen the woman in his life. Ever. It was a clear case of mistaken
identity.

From the look on Emily’s face, it was obvious that she realised he was a liar.

Dinner didn’t go any better for Bobby.

At their table, a waiter spilled a plate of lasagna on Courtney Kung’s back, and her dress was made of white silk. The accident made her cry. Emily tried to help wash off the sauce in the
bathroom, but that made the dress see-through. Courtney wrapped a lace shawl around herself, but she was still weeping when she and Emily returned to the table, and Bobby couldn’t help but be
angry that Courtney and her tears were wrecking the mood.

Rory and Nora were arguing about something in nasty whispers, and finally Rory tried to turn things around by proposing a toast.

Everyone raised their glasses and Rory said, ‘To the after-party, and to the Motel Six!’

Emily knew that there was an after-party. There was always an after-party.

But what about the Motel Six?

Emily turned to Bobby. The dinner plates were still being cleared, but a few of the more rowdy kids were back to dancing. Bobby was now intently watching them as if he were a judge in a contest.
Emily leaned closer to Bobby and said, ‘What’s going on at the Motel Six?’

Bobby just decided to come out with it. ‘We all rented rooms. I’ve got one for you and me.’

The music was loud, but not loud enough that she couldn’t hear what he’d said. ‘Why did you do that?’

Trying to be as in control as was possible, given all his problems, Bobby said, ‘I called your father when you were in the bathroom and told him we were going from the after-party to a big
breakfast at Ryan’s. I said we wouldn’t be home until the morning. But that was bull. Tonight’s the night, Emily.’

Emily looked at him. ‘What are you talking about?’

She was honestly confused. He couldn’t be thinking what she thought he was thinking. He wasn’t that out of touch with reality.

Or was he?

Bobby’s hand was on her arm, and he squeezed it now. Too tight. Aggressively tight. He knew he shouldn’t do that, but he was frustrated with his orange face and his smashed car and
his broken arm and his stitched-up knee and even his throbbing big toe. He was angry at everything that should have gone right but had gone wrong and ruined what was supposed to have been his
perfect day.

And then the president of the student body, Marylou Azoff, took the microphone from the small podium at the front of the room and called up the prom king and prom queen, and Bobby released his
grip.

Bobby didn’t even look at Emily as he got to his feet.

He knew that he shouldn’t have held her like that. She bruised easily. But she should eat more bananas or something, because maybe she had a health problem.

Bobby raised his one good arm over his head, pumped his fist, and with his back now to Emily shouted to the room, ‘Yeah, baby!’

People laughed, and someone threw a lemon wedge in his direction.

Harry Meledandri, the class techie who was standing in the shadows at a place along the far wall, then hit a switch, and a dozen laser lights went on. Coloured magenta and blue beams, like in a
real disco or a sci-fi movie, now sliced the room.

Most of the room cheered. And then two dry-ice machines, called Peasoupers, suddenly were unveiled. Solid carbon dioxide, heavier than air, was released onto the dance floor, where it made a
blanket of soupy fog. The photographer sprang into action, snapping away at the prom king and the prom queen, and Bobby began to strike all kinds of ridiculous poses.

Emily, now obscured from view by the lights and the fog and the general mayhem, took a pen from her small black bag that had been hanging on the back of her chair. She turned over the card with
the printed menu that had been part of every place setting, which some of the girls were saving as mementos. She wrote,
Bobby – I had to go home early. Have a good night. Emily.