The Juliet Spell (12 page)

“Common? Excuse me, I don’t think so,” Vivian said. “Where did you go to school, anyway?”

“In Stratford. At the grammar school. But I was no hand as a scholar. My Latin was odious.”

“Oh, my God, you know Latin?” Vivian squeaked. “That’s unheard of. But grammar school. That’s so cute. It must mean something different over there than it does here, right? Grammar school’s for little kids. Nobody learns Latin.”

Edmund had realized that he was starting to give too much away. “Yes, it does…. But I couldn’t tell ye—you— the difference.”

I jumped in. “I like Drew’s car,” I said. “It looks weird but it makes complete sense if you know what’s behind it. Did you know it’s designed to carry a basket of eggs across a plowed field without cracking a shell?”

Vivian laughed. “That’s probably why Drew bought it.”

“Anyway, I’m glad you invited him.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Vivian said. “I invited Bobby. You in.vite Bobby, you get Drew. But it’s all right. Drew’s low-maintenance.”

“Like his 2CV,” I said.

“You see?” Edmund said from the back. “Drew is like his car and his car is like him. Everything is a metaphor for something else.”

Vivian laughed. “So cute.”

Chapter Twelve

Vivian’s house had a pool, but it was too cold to go swim.ming. Or that’s what I thought. But it turned out that Viv must have given some people enough heads-up time about tonight that they had suits with them. Bobby was in the water in a Speedo and a set of pecs that glistened like a pair of basking whales, and a couple of guys were batting a ball around with him, trying to act like seals. There were five or six girls in the kind of suits that get more expensive the smaller they are, and there was Vivian in her bikini.

Vivian in her bikini and Miri in her T-shirt and jeans. I had a pretty good idea why she hadn’t mentioned this party to us earlier.

And Vivian in her bikini was a sight to behold. And Ed.ward beheld. In fact, he couldn’t stop beholding. I’d thought he was concentrating at rehearsal. That had been nothing compared to what he was doing now.

Please, Edmund’s God, I thought. Pneumonia. For Vivian. Please. Terminal pneumonia. Now, God, now.

But before God could answer my prayers, Edmund dragged me off to a corner of the yard where he could whisper to me and still keep his eyes on Vivian.

“Miri, do all girls disport themselves so?” he asked me. “Is it common to wear so little before the eyes of men?”

Damn it, Edmund, if I could get you to look at me like that, I’d wear nothing but a smile.

But what I said was, “Some of us, Edmund. But don’t think too much of it. It doesn’t mean anything. Especially to somebody like Viv.”

“What does it mean?” he demanded.

It means you’re an idiot, you idiot.

“I’d say it means she wants to go swimming.”

“Would it be wrong for me to take off my shoes and get into the water with her?”

“Totally,” I said. “Everybody would know why you were doing it and you’d be the biggest dork on the planet. Besides, your clothes would be soaked.”

“How about if I were naked?” Edmund said.

“Worse. So worse. You know what’s the best thing you can do now?”

“What? Tell me, faithful spirit,” Edmund said.

“Turn your back. Walk into the house. Get into a con.versation with somebody. Let her know you’re in charge of your—let her know you’re in charge.”

“You are as wise as you are beautiful,” Edmund laughed, and hugged me. I gasped, even though I knew it wasn’t really me he was hugging.

“Did I hurt ye?” Edmund said.

“Don’t be silly,” I squeaked. “You just surprised me, that’s all. Come on. Let’s go find Drew.”

The inside of the house was filling up. It looked like Viv.ian had just invited the high-school crowd. No Old Mon.tague, no Friar Lawrence, no Lady Capulet and no Gillinger.

Still, we kids were most of the cast and the house was get.ting crowded.

Drew was in the kitchen, slicing some French bread into cubes.

“You aren’t swimming tonight, friend Drew?” Edmund asked.

“Nay, friend. ’Tis the water. Cold. Nasty. Wet. I do con.coct the spinach dip. Wilt try some?”

“’Tis thus we eat it,” I said, picking up a cube and dip.ping it. “No muss, no fuss and very yum.” Then I did one for Edmund and put it to his lips.

“So good,” he said. “So yum.”

My fingers tingled.

There was one member of the adult cast at the party. After all, it was her house. Maria Brandstedt came into the kitchen wearing a black bathing suit and a cougarish smile and helped herself to some spinach dip.

Maria Brandstedt looked the way her daughter would in thirty years, if she was lucky. She licked her fingers and asked Edmund how he liked America.

Edmund gulped and said, “’Tis like nothing I ever imag.ined.”

“Well, we hope you like it here,” Maria purred in her soft German accent. “I know Vivian is very glad to have you in the cast. So am I.”

“As am I to be so.”

“I understand you’re a professional actor in England.”

“I am a player, yes,” Edmund said.

“Well, I’m really looking forward to doing this play,” Maria said. “Come and meet my husband.”

Dave Brandstedt was in the living room hanging out be.tween the kids in his house and his liquor cabinet, which

was in the same corner of the room as the baby grand piano. He had an empty glass in his hand.

“Hi,” he said when he shook Edmund’s hand. “Viv’s been talking about you. Glad to have a face to place with the name.”

“Give ye good evening, sir. Thank you for offering us this night of mirth.”

Dave Brandstedt grunted. “You actors are always on, aren’t you?”

“I do not take your meaning, sir,” Edmund said.

“Rehearsal’s over. You can talk the way you normally would,” Mr. Brandstedt said. “In fact, I’d prefer it. I have a hard time with Maria and Viv doing plays. I don’t mind the fact that they like to act. It’s just that there are so many pho.nies in theater. Know what I mean?”

“Not precisely, sir,” Edmund said. “What is a phony?”

“I think you know exactly what a phony is.” Dave Brand.stedt smiled.

“In truth, I do not.”

“I’ll spell it out for you,” Dave Brandstedt said. “A phony is the kind of guy who memorizes somebody else’s work and tries to pass himself off as some kind of an artist because he can remember it. The kind of guy who thinks he’s God’s gift to the world because he likes to pretend he’s somebody he isn’t. And a phony is the kind of guy who imagines he’s got some kind of right to be treated better than everybody else. That’s what a phony is. Got it?”

“Aye, sir. I will remember it.”

“Excuse me. Maria, keep an eye on the liquor,” Mr. Brand.stedt said. And he went outside, probably to check out the high-school girls in their nothing-there swimsuits. Or to stand guard on his Venus Rising From the Sea daughter.

“Did I offend?” Edmund said. “How?”

“Edmund, I’m sorry,” Maria said. “My husband’s been drinking.” Edmund smiled and shrugged, and I tried to change the

subject. “How’s your piano playing coming, Maria?” I said. “Oh. So-so.” She sighed. “I’m afraid I waited too long to

ever be really good.” “I should like to hear ye play something,” Edmund said. I didn’t see Drew come into the room with the spinach

dip, but he was there now, standing beside me. “How about you, Edmund?” he said. “Do you play?” “Nay, I’ve never seen such an instrument,” Edmund said. “I can’t believe that,” Maria said. “He means, this exact kind of piano,” I said. “There’s an

upright in the house in Stratford. His sister plays. Right, Ed.mund?” “Oh, aye. Right. Okay. But, as you say, cuz, it’s an up.right.” “Well, I do have a piece I’m almost good at,” Maria said. “It’s an old English thing, in fact. Maybe you know it.” Maria sat down at her piano, shuffled her music and opened Greensleeves. “I do know this,” Edmund said, and he sang as she played.

“Alas, my love, you do me wrong To cast me off discourteously, For I have loved you so long, Delighting in your company. Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight Greensleeves was my heart of gold And who but my lady Greensleeves? Your vows you’ve broken like my heart

Oh, why did you enrapture me?

Now I remain in a world apart

But my heart remains in captivity.”

It was amazing. Edmund had a voice like a violin on its way to becoming a trumpet. And he sang the song like he’d really lost the love of his life.

“That was wonderful,” Maria said after they’d done all four verses. “Do you know any more?”

“Oh, a good many.”

“Do one and I’ll try to follow along.”

“Here is one of my favorites,” Edmund said.

“It was a lover and his lass

With a hey and a ho and hey-nonny-no

That o’er the green cornfield did pass

In springtime,

The only pretty ring time

When birds do sing

Hey-ding-a-ding-ding,

Sweet lovers love the spring.

Between the acres of the rye

This pretty country pair did lie

This carol they began that hour

How that love was but a flower

And therefore take the present time

With a hey and a ho

And a hey-nonny-no

For love is crownéd with the prime

In spring time

The only pretty ring time

When birds do sing

Hey ding-a-ding-ding

Sweet lovers love the spring.”

Never mind how it looks on the page. You didn’t hear it. I did. We did. And it was like listening to the sun shin.ing through stained glass. I swear that song had colors that changed as you listened to it.

Maybe you had to be in love with Edmund to see the col.ors, I can’t say. But I saw them, and I was. If I maybe hadn’t been before, I was now. And it was like the world had shifted under me.

People began to drift in from the other parts of the house to listen. Mr. Brandstedt came back and leaned in a corner of the room, glaring. I saw his lips move. I couldn’t hear what he was muttering, but it didn’t look like a compliment.

“Sing something we know,” someone said.

“I can only do a few songs properly,” Edmund said. “All old ones like these, I fear.”

“Oh, come on,” the same somebody said. “You must know something modern.”

“Even the Beatles,” another somebody said. “Come on, Edmund, sing Penny Lane or something.”

“It’s enough for now,” Edmund said. “Have we no spin.ach dip here?”

I grabbed the bowl and held it out to him.

“Dip!” I said.

Edmund scarfed up three pieces of bread at once so his mouth was stuffed. Smart guy.

“Where did you learn to sing like that?” Maria said.

“Imm Emmglunnd,” Edmund explained, and reached for more bread.

And then Vivian was there, with her long wet hair fram.ing her face and a bright red towel draped around her hips.

“Oh, Edmund, wow,” she said. “Fantastic, dude.” And she gave him a quick hug.

This time, it was Edmund who gasped, as much as you can gasp with a mouth full of spinach dip.

“Gotta go. Pool call,” Vivian said, and twitched off back outside, leaving Edmund staring after her twitch.

“She’s right. You’re great, cuz,” I said, wrapping myself around him the way she had.

But I had gone too far. Everybody could tell I was hug.ging him because Vivian had. The room was full of their thoughts: Viv and Edmund. Miri and Edmund. Cat fight.

“Line up over here to hug the English guy,” Drew called out loudly. “Hug me while you wait.”

“’Tis an honor I dream not of,” said a girl who was in the party scene, and everybody laughed.

Pretty soon everybody was hugging Edmund, including the guys, and the whole mood changed. Now it was a joke.

Chapter Thirteen

The party was still going strong when Drew sidled up to me and said, “Listen, I have to work tomorrow. I’m taking off. If you want to leave now, I can give you a lift.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll try to detach Edmund from his groupies.”

Edmund was out by the pool dazzling people with his jug.gling and his acrobatics and having the time of his life.

When I said, “Edmund, we have to go,” there were groans, and a couple of girls wailed, “No! He can’t.”

But Edmund cartwheeled over to me, did a sweeping bow to everyone, turned back to me, and said, “Lead on, fair spirit.”

There were the four of us. Drew and Bobby in front. We drove home with the canvas top pushed back and the wind blowing cool over us. Sea clouds had sailed in and covered the stars, and the night was a pale silver.

My hand wanted to reach out and take Edmund’s and let Drew drive us on to forever under that sky. But the rest of