Look Both Ways (21 page)

“What do you mean, Kim?” Merry asked.

“It’s all me,” Kim said.

“Huh?”

“It’s all me now. I have to be perfect. I have to be everything to them now. I have to make up for . . .”

“To make up for David.”

“Yes.”

“They don’t really feel like that.”

“But they do, Merry! You don’t know what happened.”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“My dad counts on me to keep . . . Mom alive. . . .”

“What do you mean, Kim?”

“Two months after David died, Mom took an overdose. She saved up all the sleeping pills the doctors gave her and she took them all. Your mom doesn’t even know. Dad was so ashamed.”

“Ashamed?”

“Yes! That’s how he is, Merry. He drove her all the way to the city, even though she was barely conscious.”

“No way!”

“He took her to an ER there, so no one here would know. He thought we would be ruined forever. After David dying and then my mom.”

“He drove her for an hour and a half? She could have died.”

“So when I told her that I’d made varsity, it was just two months later. And she was happy, Merry. Not happy like before David, but almost excited. About me. It was the first time. Because David was the best. . . .”

“What do you mean?”

“He was popular and good-looking, and I just wasn’t ever as good as he was,” Kim said. “It was like they were . . . not just completely devastated that David died, but they got the leftover kid.”

“Stop it, Kim.”

“I heard Dad say it,” Kim told her. “I heard Dad. Right after David died. He said, all we have left is Kim. He said, ‘Do you know how that feels, Bonnie? I had the most wonderful son on earth. My pride. My name! And now we have our cheerleader!’”

Merry pulled Kim close, her tiny body suddenly large enough to comfort someone thirty pounds heavier and four inches taller than she.

Another secret Merry could never speak. Shame on them. Even if out of his mind with grief, how could anyone say such a thing, much less feel it? How could Mr. Jellico, even though he was a professor, feel that Kim wasn’t as good as David? Her parents might be a pain, but they would never, not ever think less of her than of Mallory, or Adam. They were all . . . cherished. That, Merry realized, made the gift bearable.

Despite her fears, Kim’s need and gratitude were so great that Merry let Kim talk her into staying over. She barely slept, believing that any second she’d wake to David’s eyes in the darkness, blazing in maniac glee, the way they had on the ridge. Where else would he be, except here, where candles burned in his memory, where his senior picture had been transformed into an oil painting four times its size, where pale, haggard Bonnie cleaned his room and laundered his clothes as though David would walk in the door at any moment?

Where his mother had tried to die to be with him?

In the morning, Bonnie drove both of them to practice on her way to work. As she left, Bonnie said softly, “Say hi to your mom, Merry. Tell her congrats about the baby. I . . . I wish I had another chance.”

“I will,” Merry said. She took a deep breath and said, “Bonnie, Mom misses you. She loved working with you. She only took the ER job because she needed the money. For the baby. And she’s going to medical school.”

Bonnie, a distant look in her eyes, said, “She is? I’m glad. I never returned her calls.”

Merry longed to say, “You do have another chance, Bonnie! She’s right here.” But she knew what Bonnie meant.

That night at halftime, Merry rushed out onto the floor to do something she’d only ever tried in practice and only once in competition—a lib on top of a pyramid formed by four on the bottom and Kim and Libby Entwhistle supporting her balanced on the legs of the four below. Kim and Merry would first do a tumbling pass to the center of the floor, a walkover to a round-off, into three front handsprings, and then up Merry would go, to pull an outsized red-and-green pom-pom from her sleeve and wave madly while she extended one leg. She waited for the opening words, “Green light! That’s right!” As soon as she saw Kim start toward her, she couldn’t help but grin. With Kim’s face alight, Merry forgot everything. Muscle memory took over as she watched Kim cavort like a kid on a trampoline.

As Merry stood on the pyramid, she hoped that Danny Blinkhorn, who’d dumped Trevor at Thanksgiving, might be looking her way. He wasn’t, but she saw something else: She saw Bonnie on her feet with tears in her eyes, and David’s father—
Kim’s
father—clapping his hands.

As they rushed into their dance, picking up their bells for the routine to “Jingle Bell Rock,” Kim whispered, “My mom’s looking at me! At me! Since David’s been gone, and especially since . . . what I told you, my mom hasn’t even seen me. Not when I stay out all night. Never.”

“Are you happy?”

“I’ll never be happy like you, Merry. You can’t be if you lose someone. But I’m as happy as I can be. Because of you.”

“Well, do I get a present for that?”

Kim looked puzzled. “You mean a birthday present?” They lined up and waited for the opening notes.

“Yes, sure. Call it that. I want you to promise me just one thing. That you’ll never go to the ravine again. That you’ll hang with us again. Or at least try to.” Kim looked away. “Kimmie? I hate to guilt trip you, but I gave up one fourth of my season. That’s a lot.”

“I always wanted to!” Kim burst out. “I didn’t think you wanted me!”

“Well, now you know. I’ll take that as yes?”

“Yes! Sure! Anything!” Kim cried, and they rushed out onto the floor.

M
allory snuggled under Cooper’s arm and thought,
What a difference from last New Year’s Eve.

The sleigh slushed over the snow around the reservoir. Merry had cajoled Danny Blinkhorn to come “just as a friend,” and was gossiping with Drew and Pam Door. Kim was there with Brice, a new boyfriend from Deptford but seemingly very nice. Everybody spread rumors about the boys from Deptford, but Mallory was sick of rumors.

She knew there were already rumors about Cooper and her. And she knew they weren’t nice.

For her part, she wasn’t ever going to believe again anything she couldn’t prove with her own eyes—or in her case, the eyes inside her mind. The Barnes’ team of beautiful, mild-eyed Clydesdales trotted for an hour among the trees festooned with snow. Cooper tickled Mally’s nose with the end of her scarf. He did nothing in the way of PDA, but there was very much a sense that she was Cooper’s girl. For that hour, all was right with the world.

Julie surprised them with hot cider when they got back to the barn. Dressed in feather-light parkas (Merry’s baby blue and Mallory’s bright red) made of some space-age fabric, and matching lined boots of Australian suede, the girls looked as shiny as they felt. Grandma Gwen had crocheted matching caps and mittens, but for Mallory the best gift was left on her porch. At the last minute, Drew gave Mallory six of his grody old shirts, tied with a ribbon. A peace offering. The bundle included one new T-shirt from the mall that read “Cheerleaders Give It Their All,” which made Campbell’s eyes narrow when she saw it, although she decided Drew meant it as no more than a gentle jest. Even Adam had come up with a certificate for the twins’ iPods. With all the little gifts from relatives trickling in all week, they were feeling that “little Christmas” way they sometimes did having a birthday that came just after a major holiday.

Back at their house, a few other friends joined them for a tub of Campbell’s special Italian beef. By the time they got there, she was ladling the steaming beef onto generous slices from huge, crusty loaves. Mallory, the first in the door, noticed that Campbell wore a tight, glittery black sweater—no attempt to hide her belly tonight. Rushing up to her mother, she patted her sibling-to-be.

Before coming in, Mallory had eagerly counted the cars in front: There was Eden’s old truck and the Range Rover that belonged to the Brents, which meant that Will and his older brother, Rob, were there. Just as she and Cooper, with Merry in the backseat, pulled into the drive, Neely Chaplin hopped out of her parents’ Beemer—a little ad for Clothes That Counted, from her Italian sweater to her Finnish boots. But Mallory didn’t mind: Neely mouthed the words “so hot” when she set eyes on Cooper. As Mallory helped her mother put the sandwiches on plates with chips, Eden suddenly appeared from inside the house, wearing a long red shirt belted over a red skirt and boots, with the same infinitesimal braids with beads in her hair she’d worn on the night of the powwow. “Hi!” she said, pulling Mallory aside and giving her a birthday hug. She pointed to her braids. “Some of these have a mind of their own. I guess I didn’t really have my mind on putting them in tonight.”

As the boys began to eat and the music began to play, Eden shyly and secretly showed Mallory her left hand. “I want to show you,” she said. A tiny diamond winked in a white gold setting on her ring finger.

“You’re . . . engaged?” Mallory’s world seemed to screech to a stop.

“No, it’s a promise ring. For after I finish at least a year of college. James is getting his Master’s. He had an emergency tonight with one of his kids who had to come back out into the field so he couldn’t come.” Mallory was relieved. She wouldn’t have known how to look at a guy who was seven years older at a kid party. And especially now.

“Edes, do you think this is smart? Has your mom seen it?”

“Are you kidding?” Eden asked sharply. “I can’t wear it in school or at home, but I know he loves me. That’s all that matters. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Nothing’s more beautiful, or terrible, than love. I heard you say that, huh?” Mallory murmured.

“Eden,” Cooper said, taking Eden’s hand before she could slip it behind her back, “nice Christmas present.”

“It’s just a friendship ring,” Eden said.

“I hope it is, for your sake,” Cooper said sadly. “I don’t want to be the bad guy, sis, but James . . .”

“James doesn’t know anything about it. About me.”

“I was going to say,” Cooper went on smoothly, “James should know better than to be giving rings to a high school girl.”

“He doesn’t think of me like that. I could easily be out at my age, except for my so-called delicate condition that kept me out of school for a year! He thinks of me as the woman he loves.”

“That would be heavy talk even if you weren’t who you are,” Cooper said.

“I don’t intend to be who I am, Cooper,” Eden said quietly.

“That’s the first time you said it straight out,” Cooper told her. He pressed his lips together. “At least promise to pray and fast about this.”

“What does he mean?” asked Mallory, whose mood was sinking like the balloons on the ceiling in the warmth of the garage.

“He means shut myself up in the longhouse and not eat for three days until I feel totally woozy and guilty for ever wanting my own life,” Eden said bitterly. “Mally, I’m sorry. I have to leave.”

“Eden, it can wait.”

“I just don’t feel like being at a party. Even yours.” Eden kissed Mally’s cheek. “Happy birthday.”

Cooper said, “When she gets like this, it’s better to listen to her.”

“I wish it were you, Cooper!” Eden snapped.

Cooper said nothing. Then he whispered, “This isn’t the time or the place, Eden. But you do get to be the boss of the clan.”

“All the young people will run away to the cities, like Bly. I can have a job, but I don’t have to! The clan will always take care of me.”

“You love so many things, Eden. Art and words . . .” Mally began.

“Let Raina be the next shape-shifter!” Mallory had never seen Eden so angry. She stomped off and the other kids stared. Sensing something but not what, Tim put the music on loud. Campbell brought the cake into the garage. It was all covered with chocolate musical notes.

“We figured your cheer dances are music and now Mallory’s singing,” Campbell explained. “It’s my last gasp of being a good mother and doing the baking thing. You guys get to eat hot dogs until the end of March.”

Everyone sang “Happy Birthday,” and Mallory’s mood began to bubble again. As Campbell cut the cake, Tim added, “I happen to know that there’s one more gift for Mallory.”

He smiled at Cooper Cardinal.

Cooper was too dark to really blush, but his cheeks looked as though someone had laid a little finger of fire along each cheekbone.

“Anyone who can’t stand ugly sounds should leave now,” he said, to a murmur of laughter. Tim brought Cooper a stool and gave him his own old guitar, the one Tim had had since college. “I learned to play a little at school and this song has exactly two chords, so Mallory’s dad was nice enough to be in on this with me. And my dad was nice enough to teach me this song, which was old when he was young. It’s by John Sebastian. You probably never heard of him, but it’s a great song. Be patient with my lousy guitar playing.” Cooper spent a few minutes fiddling with Tim’s guitar. “I’m pretending to tune it,” he said with a laugh. Then, after a few opening notes, Cooper sang. His voice was higher and lighter than Mallory’s.

“She’s one of those girls who seems to come in the spring, and one look from her eyes makes you forget everything you had ready to say. And I saw her today. . . . A younger girl keeps rolling across my mind,” Cooper sang. “No matter what he tried, he couldn’t seem to leave her memory behind / In a few more years they’d call them ‘right for each other’ / But why? If he waited, he’d die / A younger girl keeps rolling across my mind . . . .”

Mallory had never cried in public except on the day she “heard” Meredith call out in fear for her life. Now two fat tears rolled down her cheeks, and she didn’t even bother to wipe them away. Cooper’s voice was as gentle and graceful as everything else about him. And it was just such a sweet, yearning song—so much of what she felt. She didn’t notice the other girls glancing at her under their lashes with envy. She only saw Cooper. When he finished, Mallory gave him a light kiss on the cheek, in front of everyone.