Wherever You Go (26 page)

Jason looked down at her hand and then up to her eyes. In the blue light coming from the pool, they appeared to glitter—and he saw something happy, content, behind them. His chest tightened.

"Are we having hot dogs?" Lena shouted over from the swing.

"No, grilled fish and some slow-cooked pork," Jason said, slowly breaking away from Holly's gaze. "Just like Hawaii."

"Hawaii," repeated Aldo with a smile.

Lena went back to propelling the swing with her feet. Aldo closed his eyes.

Jason reached down and turned on the propane to light the grill. Blue flame sprouted up. "So, um ... we haven't used this in a while," he said, trying to focus on things other than the closeness of Holly.

"You don't like to grill?"

"Um ... this is the first dinner my mom and I have cooked in months. I think the last time was a turkey at Thanksgiving. Wait, no—our housekeeper started that for us. But I did make the mashed potatoes," he said with a laugh.

The doorbell rang. "Hey, Mom, you invite someone?" He closed the lid of the grill.

"No."

"Maybe it's Dad?"

"No, son. It's most definitely not Dad." His mom giggled and went back to her animated conversation with Holly's mom.

"Be right back," Jason said. He left Holly to watch the heating grill.

At the door he found Mark holding a shopping bag.

"What's up," Jason said.

"Hey, man, heard you were having a gathering," he said. "I brought some booze for us."

"Um, who told you that?" Jason unhooked the striped apron from his neck and threw it onto the entryway table.

"Faith. She said you were havd y"times newing a barbecue tonight."

"No, I'm cooking Holly and her family dinner." Jason stepped outside and shut the door behind him.

"So, there's not room for one more?" he said.

"What is with you, Mark? I would have called you if this was an open invitation."

"See—I don't think so. You don't hang with any of us anymore."

"I don't get it. Are you jealous or something?"

Mark gave him a sly smile. "Nah, I'm just trying to see your strategy here."

"Strategy?"

"Well, you're obviously trying to get with Holly."

"I'm not trying to—look, I like her."

"Oh, quit being so noble. You just want to nail her," he said with a wink.

"What?" Jason reached out for Mark's shoulders and pushed him against the brickwork of the porch entry. Mark's bag tumbled to the ground. He could smell alcohol, maybe whisky, on Mark's breath, coming out from the pores of his skin. There wasn't a car parked there, and Jason was glad of that. If Mark was drinking, at least he was on foot.

"C'mon, man, you started sniffing around after her before our buddy was even cold in the ground," Mark said, trying to free himself from Jason.

"Not true."

"Now, every time I see you, you're taking her and the old guy somewhere. This barbecue for him, too?"

Jason let go of Mark and took a step back. "You should go. You're drunk."

"Why would you want to hang out with her, anyway—and the old guy?" Mark laughed.

"You wouldn't understand. Just go."

"Try me. Seriously. I'm listening, really." Mark straightened up. "I really want to understand."

Jason paused and then said, "Her grandpa has Alzheimer's, and she's got this list of stuff that he wants to remember. I'm helping her with the list."

"I'll bet," Mark said. He fixed his shirt collar, stood a little taller. "Look, it's obvious that you're just trying to keep Rob's memory alive in some sick way by hanging with her."

"Mark."

"Dude, Rob's dead and he's not coming back. Banging his girlfriend is not going to bring him back."

Jason's fist balled so tight, it deserved to connectvedot goi with Mark's fat mouth, but he kept his hands close to his body, containing all the fury he wanted to get out. "Just go now," he said through gritted teeth.

"Sure, sure. It's just sad ... how things are turning out." Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to still them. "Why are you being such an asshole to Holly?"

"I was never an asshole to her," Mark said.

"To me, then. Why are you like this to me? Is this how you treat your friends?"

Mark laughed a thin, hollow laugh that didn't fool Jason, or Mark himself, he was sure. "Oh, c'mon. You're about ready to beat the crap out of me—that your brand of friendship these days?" Mark gave him a sad look and picked up the paper bag of booze.

"Mark—"

"No, no. I shouldn't have come here. I guess I'll just cross myself off the list for your birthday party next week. I'm sure it's going to be a rager. Old people. Dead friends' girlfriends." He held up his hands. "Just kidding. We're cool, right?"

Jason wanted to beat the shit out of him still. But in the back of his mind he remembered Rob telling him so many times how Mark needed them. How Mark was at heart a decent guy. That was pure Rob—always defending his friends, even if they were pieces of crap.

"Sure," he said after a long silence. "We're cool."

Mark cradled his bag. "Okay, thanks. And thanks for not kicking my ass. Not that I thought you would."

Jason allowed himself a smile, though it didn't feel real. "You didn't think I would kick your ass?"

"No. I've seen you break up fights. But you're not a fighter. You don't have that in you," Mark said, turning to go. "You're the freaking good guy. I've always known that."

He walked down the path toward the street, leaving Jason on the porch breathing in the cool, clean dark.

***

You long to taste one of those piña coladas the moms are sucking down at the table on the patio at Jason's house. The pool is lit up like paradise, and soft music is drifting out on the breeze. It's a beautiful night even a dead guy can appreciate.

As you survey the scene, Aldo beckons you closer. He's seated at the head of the table, a half-eaten plate of food in front of him. You don't move toward him. Not yet. You're not quite sure it's a good idea. For either of you.

"You want something, Papa?" asks Holly's mom, breaking from her conversation with Mona.

"No, I'm fine," he says with a wave, sounding very clear, very with it. He scoops a bite of poi to his mouth, pausing before tasting.

ed "times new roman">"I have to hand it to Jason—he went all out," Julia says. "This means a lot to my father. He and my mother went to Hawaii on their twenty-fifth anniversary. It was the one nice vacation my folks took. Although I think they did go back to Perugia once."

"I love Italy," says Mona with an appreciative nod.

Holly's mom takes a sip from the coconut in her hand. "I've never been."

"Oh, what a shame. They have the most wonderful winery tours. Oh, and the men," she says with a giggle. "You'll get there someday, I have a feeling."

Julia laughs too.

Lena, almost asleep at the table, wakes up at the sound of laughter. "What'd I miss?"

This makes the moms laugh even harder.

You glance toward the swing, where Holly is resting her head on Jason's shoulder. They look like they've always been together. It's almost too much to take after the day you've had.

"Hey, kid," whispers Aldo, but you ignore him, wanting to see what is going on with your girl. "Not your girl," corrects Aldo.

"I wasn't talking to you," you say. You perch alongside the pool near the swing, dipping your invisible legs into the space of the clear blue water. Staring hard where your feet would be, you put all your energy into conjuring up a splash to grab their attention, to wreck their moment. A ripple appears on the surface, and you're causing a slight hum at the edge of the hula music coming through the speakers. You really need to work on this kinetic stuff.

"Will you give it a rest? You're only torturing yourself," says Aldo.

"Papa, you okay? You're mumbling," Julia says at the table.

"
Bene, bene.
I'm okay."

Holly reaches up to touch Jason's face. "You're pretty good at grilling. How did you settle on swordfish?"

You float up from the pool and draw nearer to the swing.

"It was at the market," he says. "Along with something called
ono.
"

Holly's face lights up. "I read a recipe for that somewhere. You crust it in nori—you know, dried seaweed?"

"Yeah, I know what nori is. We get sushi a lot, me and Mom."

"Yum."

"I'll have to take you to sushi sometime," Jason says, as if he's the only one who ever thought of it, when half of Seattle lives off the stuff.

You remember taking Holly to sushi at a little place in Tan-gletown near Green Lake. It waen nt>
uni
—the sea urchin, with its mushy texture.

"Did you like the poi?" Jason says, nearly batting his eyelashes.

"I guess—I've never had it before."

"It's taro root."

"I know," says Holly.

"Of course you know that," he says with a laugh. "Well, it was my best effort for you. I'm sure you could have made something a hundred times better."

She smiles up at him, her eyes shining. "No, no. It was so great. It was inspired."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. I've never had anyone cook for me before, really."

You sigh. That's true. You never even made a quesadilla for Holly. What was the point when she was so good she could make homemade pizza out of a few ingredients?

"You are amazing with food," Jason said. "I remember trying a cookie you made for Rob. It looked so good, I begged him for a bite. I think it was macadamia white chocolate chunk."

"His favorite."

"It was the softest, chewiest cookie, and I remember asking him where he bought it. He hit me on the shoulder and said you baked it for him. I swear I could taste the love in that cookie."

"Baked right in," Holly says in a wistful tone.

Jason smiles at her. "You should become a chef someday."

You roll the idea around in your mind. Yeah, Holly would be great running a restaurant. You can totally see her in chef whites. Though that's far away from the psych degree she'd wanted to get, back when you both talked about the future—what you'd study at Western up in Bellingham when you went off to school together. You knew you wouldn't end up there, though. You knew you were headed east, thanks to your dad.

Jason's voice is playful, and he twirls a lock of Holly's hair in his fingers. "You'd be great at that. I know how much you love to cook."

"No. I
have
to cook."

"You love it."

"All right, maybe I love it a little," she says with a laugh. "I never thought about doing that, though. I'm just floating along here, you know."

"If you float along, you don't get a chance to choose your direction," Jason says.

"True."

Jason leans in and kisses her then. You can almost see the sparks ignite between them. He's winning her heart. And it's breaking yours.

"Come away from there, dammit!" shouts Aldo, disrupting the whole table with his sudden murmuring.

"Papa, calm down."

Aldo shakes his head. "Just asking for heartache."

"I'm not."

"He loves her. She loves him. Your time is over, Roberto!"

"Everything okay?" calls Holly, sitting up on the swing.

"We're fine. I've got it." Mom gives her a wave.

"Come here," Jason says, dipping his head to kiss her in the shadows of the swing. "Don't worry about him. Your mom is right there."

You see Holly relax into the kiss that Jason is offering. There's desire in Holly's eyes—a look you remember seeing. She wants him. You feel it.

"Holly," Jason says. "I'm falling fast here."

She puts a finger on his lips, stopping him from saying more.

"You crazy fool, walk away," calls Aldo.

You nod now and move in a daze toward the bushes of the backyard. You can't bear to see Holly's eyes shine so full of trust and love for Jason. You can't bear to see the reminder of all you couldn't live up to. Of how you let her down.

***

I was swaying in Jason's arms on the makeshift dance floor near the patio. My stomach felt full to bursting with the grilled fish and the coconut cream pie Jason had unveiled at the end of dinner. I could still taste the sweet, creamy custard filling and the buttery crust. He admitted that he had bought the pie, but I didn't even care. As we danced, the soft slack-key guitar music brought the sounds of the islands all around me. If I closed my eyes, I almost felt like I was on vacation.

"I'm tired," Lena said from her seat in the swing.

Vacation over
. "I've got to get these guys home," I whispered.

"I'll drive you," Jason said.

I gathered up Lena, and Jason helped Aldo down the hallway to the entrance.