Want (14 page)

“Just fine, sir. How’s the family?”

“Getting big, the lot of ’em. Jimmy’s heading into middle school this year and Lucy, well, she’s eight going on eighteen.” He fiddles with the handle of his voila case and shifts it from one hand to the other.

“Tell them I said hey. Have them stop over some time, if they’re not too old to be seen with their former babysitter.”

“Sure will. You have a blessed night, now. Good to see you again.” He smiles and turns to leave but spins back around. “You need a ride home or something?”

“No, I’m good, thanks. Isaac is taking me home.”

“Isaac? You mean Isaac Laroche?” He arches an eyebrow for effect.
What that effect is, I’m not sure.

“That’s the one.”

Curtis’s left eye twitches just the tiniest bit, and where his wide smile sat just a second ago, a strained one takes its place. “You sure that’s a good idea? Is he even allowed…
”
His voice trails off, and he shakes his head. “Well, have a nice evening.”

With that, he spins on his heel and marches away. I watch as his viola bumps his leg.

What the heck?

Isaac returns with his tux jacket over his arm, and we head out the back door behind the stage. As guest performer, he has a prime parking spot. I shiver and he drapes his jacket over my shoulders. It’s early fall, but the night air carries a chill that wasn’t there a few weeks before.

He opens the car door for me, and I tuck my dress in around me.

“Where to?”

“What do you mean, ‘where to?’ Aren’t you taking me home?”

“I will if you want, but I’m too keyed up to call it a night. Besides, you look mighty nice, and I’d like to show you off a little.” He winks.

“You feeling okay? You’re seriously weird tonight.”

“Never said I wasn’t. So how about it?” He repeats his original question. “Where to?”

“Well…Felix’s is still open.”

“Nah, too crowded. And they’d look at us funny if we went in dressed like this.” He has a point. “How about ice cream? Is it too cold for ice cream?”

“It’s
never
too cold for ice cream.”

“All right then, ice cream it is.” He stomps the gas.

We stop at a place in Midtown. It’s late, and the girl behind the counter shoots daggers at us. Isaac gets a triple scoop of butter pecan, and I order a strawberry milkshake. I don’t want to run the risk of dripping any on my dress or Isaac’s tux jacket, plus I don’t think I can gracefully lick a cone in front of him and not blush. It seems a little too…intimate.

We perch on top of a picnic table in the parking lot. The lights of the ice cream place flick off, and we hear the girl lock up for the night. I squirm in the silence, but Isaac doesn’t seem to notice as he works away at his three scoops.

“This side,” I say. “It’s dripping over on this side.”

He licks it off his knuckles, and that’s when I notice the shiny cufflink.

I put out a hand to look at it. “May I?”

He nods and switches his cone to the other hand but never misses a lick. I turn his wrist to see better in the dim light.

“It’s monogrammed—ALB. But those aren’t your initials.
Wait
,
let me guess
. You have an evil twin named Alexander Bubba Laroche. Am I right?”

His eyes twinkle. “Partly right.
About Alexander, anyway.
Hang on.” He finishes off his cone and wipes his fingers.

“They were my dad’s: Alexander Beauregard Laroche. Quite a mouthful, eh? Nine syllables of name, eleven if you get someone from upstate to say it.”

“Is there a story behind them?” I never thought about his dad, or lack of one. Actually, I never saw or heard of his dad at church or anywhere else.

“No, no story really, just that I got them when he died.”

“I didn’t know. I should have since I never met him.”

“No, you probably don’t remember him. Died when I was young, so maybe you weren’t even born yet. I keep forgetting you’re jailbait.”

I punch him in the shoulder.

“Ouch! Hey now, I’m supposed to be grieving, and you’re supposed to feel sorry for me. Or at least not give me bruises.”

“You deserved that one. Anyway, continue. You were telling me about your daddy.”

“Not much to tell. Don’t have a sob story. He was a great guy, a great father and then he got sick. Cancer. Went fast after they figured out what was wrong.”

I study Isaac’s profile in the streetlamp light and imagine what his dad had looked like. As big as Isaac but maybe a bit heavier, leathery skin from being outdoors, and more age lines.
Definitely some gray hair at the temples.

Isaac catches me staring. “What?”

“Nothing. What did your mama do after he died?”

“She was a rock. Had the three of us to take care of, so she didn’t have time to sit around and feel sorry for herself. Plus, Uncle Robert stepped in.
Especially with me.
Took me fishing and boating and taught me how to drive. And piano, of course, but I started that before Daddy died.”

I’m not sure what to say. “Sorry” doesn’t seem right since it’s been so long.

“That must have been tough.”

“Yeah, he didn’t leave us much of a nest egg, so Mama worked like crazy. We did okay.”

“Well, you’re lucky you have so many people who love you. And the cufflinks are really nice, too.” It’s time to change the subject. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Pardon?”

“At the theater. You said you wanted to talk to me. That’s why you offered to drive me home, right?”

“Oh, that. Just wanted to get out of there, away from all the people. Wasn’t ready to go home yet and figured you wouldn’t mind. That okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” I need to tell him my news. But there’s something else I have to do first. “Isaac, I need to ask you about something.”

“Yeah?”

How do I ask this?

“Did something happen before you left Mobile?”

He stiffens. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I remember bits and pieces of things, and sometimes when I tell people we’re working together, I get a weird vibe.”

He turns his head away and mumbles. “No. There’s no reason we can’t work together.”

I shiver and pull his jacket closer.

“Where are my manners?” His voice is a little too loud. “Forgot you have thin skin down here. Been in Boston so long that this is a heat wave. Let’s go.”

“It’s okay, it’s just the milkshake.”

He stares at my lips.

“
What
?”

“Nothing. Just get in.” As he closes the door, I swear I hear
jailbait
again.

In our driveway, I realize I
still
haven’t told Isaac my news.

How could I possibly forget?

A gentleman like his uncle, he walks me to the door, even though there are only a few steps from the driveway to the back door. He was here every day over the summer, but this feels different. For one, it’s well after dark. For another, his warm fingertips rest on the small of my back as we walk. I try to summon the confident girl who appeared after we finished the recording. She seems far away right now.

This is like the end of a date, with that awkward
will he or won’t he?
moment
. I haven’t had to worry about that since sophomore year with Patrick Mumford. He saw Mama have a come-apart—one of her fits—one time and made sure to tell everyone he knew. That took care of the
will he or won
’
t he
?
problem
.
Until tonight.

“Isaac—”

“Good—”

We speak at the same time. He waves his hand to let me go first.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” I cringe at how corny that sounds, and Isaac’s eyes get big. It makes me giggle and gives me the push I need to spill the news. I take a deep breath. “I got the audition. In February.”

He grins from ear to ear. All the weirdness dissipates when he lets out a little rebel yell.

“Shhh! Don’t wake the neighbors.”

“That’s great! Congratulations! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“This was your night. I didn’t want to take away from that. Although I
did
tell your uncle during intermission.” I give him a sheepish look and hope he’ll forgive me for not telling him first.

“Well damn, now we should go out and celebrate some more.”

“I’m sure you’ve had a long day. Going to your performance and spending time with Mr. Cline was the perfect celebration. But thank you for the offer, really. It means a lot. Oh, and thanks for your jacket.” I shrug it off and hand it over, sorry to lose the warmth and scent. Cool night air bites at my bare skin and I feel naked.

And things are weird again. I can’t look him in the eye, so I concentrate on one of his shirt buttons and fidget with my handbag. He stares at my bare shoulder but doesn’t say anything. I hear his teeth grind.

And he still doesn’t say anything. Neither do I.

He lifts a hand to touch me but drops it. “Good night. And congratulations.”

***

November speeds by with no major catastrophes. My nightmares aren’t as frequent, and I haven’t scraped in weeks. Haven’t needed to. Mama’s adjusted to her new medication—I don’t know how she keeps track of them all—and seems pretty normal most of the time. She even made cookies this week and told me I looked nice. These small miracles make me think
maybe,
just maybe things have turned around.

The next few months might not be bad if I can contain my stress and Mama stays on her meds. I’ll figure out what on earth is going on
between me and Isaac—if anything—
and what all these whispers and snatches of whispers are about. I don’t think it’s just about his ex-girlfriend in Boston.

R.J. comes home from college, and we pick up where we left off—who spends more time in the bathroom, who put the empty cereal box back in the pantry, and whose turn it is to walk the dogs.

“R.J., you’ve been gone since August. I’ve been pulling double-duty ever since.”

We sit at the kitchen table in our flannel pajamas. Beaux rests his chin on my knee while Belle does the same to R.J.

He points his spoon at me. “Yes, but you still live here full time. I’m practically a guest, and guests shouldn’t have to walk their hosts’ dogs.”

“That’s so pathetic, R.J., even for you. Did you fail Logic 101?”

“Hah. Hah. I can tell you passed Smartass 101.”

“Lame.”

“It’s early, give me a break.”

“What are you doing today?”

“Let’s see. First, I
guess
I’ll walk the dogs. Then I have to meet Geoffrey and the guys for a meeting and another fitting.”

The Mystics decided to let Geoffrey Swann be king after all. I guess his parents are too important to piss off, so they didn’t vote to replace him or go without a king. Mr. and Mrs. Swann have to pay for everything. Again.

“Have fun with that.”

“Yeah, thanks. What about you? You’re on Junior Court again, right?”

“Nope. I turned it down so I could concentrate on the audition. I’ll be at the ball, but that’s it.”

“God, Juli,
are
you turning into a spinster? There’s a convent on the north side of town, you know.”

“Shut it, R.J.”

“But if you went all nun on us, what would Isaac do?”

“I said shut it.”

“Oh, looks like I hit a nerve.”

I box the side of his head and he yelps. I’m halfway to the sink when he grabs me by the middle and starts tickling.

“Stop! You suck!” I gasp for air between laughs and manage to shake him off.

“Do I need to separate y’all?” Daddy wanders into the kitchen and scratches at his fuzzy orange-gray hair.

“He started it.”

Daddy rolls his eyes and grabs a coffee mug from the cabinet. “What are you two up to today?”

“That’s what we were talking about when R.J. attacked me.”

“She totally had it coming, Daddy. I have to go to the costume shop for a fitting with Geoffrey and the guys. Not sure what we’ll do after that, but I’ll probably be gone most of the day.”

“What about you, Juli? Let me guess, you’ll be in the studio.”

“No. Isaac asked me to help with the Christmas cantata at church. Rehearsal is today. He put together a really great program for the choirs and convinced a couple of people from the symphony to do accompaniment.”

“Sounds like a blast.” R.J. pretends to gag. I throw my spoon at him.

“I’m glad you’re getting out. Isaac still being a gentleman?” Daddy’s voice is casual but his insinuation is not.