26. Alice Lucky Breaks
Alice Lucky Breaks
Six days had passed since Belle Epoque, and #freebill was really taking off. Well, around here, at least. Everywhere we went, people stopped Charlotte to ask what they could do, how they could help, if it was true that Bill had been framed. And that was great. But she was still incredibly anxious about what evidence could be used against him. Tonight we had talked her into getting out of the house, getting away from the phone and computer, and forgetting all her troubles with some good old-fashioned Friday night lights.
I looked around at the familiar scene, sitting in the bleachers at Juniper Shores Prep, cheering for the Marlins. How many nights had I sat in these stands? I couldn’t even begin to count. Two rows in front of me sat a little girl with blue-and-white ribbons in her pigtails. Her grandmother reached over to hand her a box of Milk Duds, and I smiled, thinking of my darling departed Mina, the aunt I barely knew who, after my mother died and my father was incarcerated for involuntary manslaughter, rescued me. And I do mean that literally. Mina was sixty-four years old, my mom’s oldest sister, nearly twenty years her senior, the day I entered her quiet, calm, organized home. I was a terrified little girl of ten who had lost her beloved mother to a car crash, her father to prison, her predictable-if-sometimes-annoying siblings, her home, her everything all in one fell swoop.
I think I knew from the first day with Mina that I was lucky. I knew that not every kid with no parents got to live in a pink bedroom with sheets that smelled like flowers and with a kind woman who cooked amazing food and told great stories. Mina never tried to be my mother. She only tried to take care of me, to love me, to help me love myself. She believed she could only take on one child and, since I was the youngest, since I would be displaced for the longest amount of time, she chose me. I couldn’t have known then that my siblings would spend the rest of their lives resenting me for that; I couldn’t have known what a wedge it would drive between us.
Even so, I would have chosen Mina. She gave me—against all odds—a wonderful childhood.
I don’t know if it was conscious, but I think that’s why I knew, when Julie was in trouble, when my niece was down and out like I had once been, that I had to take her in. Mina had rescued me; I would rescue Julie. I had spent every day since trying to be like Mina, trying to be there for the kids and adults alike at the mommune, to support them and make them feel like they had someone. And, in a lot of ways, the mommune was my way of re-creating what I loved most about my childhood: the delicious chaos of a huge family. I was never happier than when kids were running through my house, food cooking, music playing, people laughing.
Well, never happier than in moments like these when I jumped to my feet and cheered as Merit snapped the perfect pass to number 44, who ran right into the end zone with it. Touchdown, Marlins! Beside me, Audrey, Brenna, and Jamie stood up and waved their pom-poms in their “mini Marlins” uniforms. These were sold as a fundraiser for the school, and no little girl in Juniper Shores could be without one. That was one of my favorite charitable acts, buying uniforms for little girls who couldn’t afford them so they could live out their cheerleader dreams. I had cheered for this team many moons ago. Sometimes it felt impossible that I wasn’t cheering for them now. Well, in a carwash skirt and crop top, I mean. I would always, always be cheering for them. School events, like church, allowed me to be the happiest, most relaxed version of myself. For a couple of hours, I was that girl under Mina’s protective watch again, not the woman who had lost so much.
Grace and Charlotte were to my left, and Grace shouted, “That’s my boy!” as she and Charlotte high-fived.
Iris and Emma were off in other parts of the stadium with their friends, obviously. They couldn’t possibly be seen with the likes of us. I remembered being that age, only I never had the feeling of mortification over my parents. I only wished that mine were there to embarrass me.
All of a sudden, on the other side of the stadium, much too far away for my sight to be accurate, I spotted a man who looked just like Jeremy. Or, well, what Jeremy would look like eighteen years later, if he had lived. I gasped out loud, and Charlotte looped her arm around mine. “Are you okay?” she murmured.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “I have this thing…” I realized I had never said this out loud to anyone, and now I wondered if I should. I knew how information could become a weapon, even in the hands of people who claimed to love you.
“What thing?” she asked.
I was quiet for a moment. When I scanned the opposite bleachers, the Jeremy look-alike was nowhere to be found.
“You can tell me, Alice,” she said. “Believe me, if we’re having a secret-off, you know more of mine.”
I sighed. “This is going to sound crazy, but ever since Jeremy died, I have seen him everywhere. For eighteen years, everywhere I go, some poor stranger becomes Jeremy.”
She looked at me dully. “That’s your big secret? You see your dead husband in crowds? Alice, that must be the most common thing in the world.”
“It is?”
She laughed. “Yes! It is!”
I felt a little better. “I know he’s dead. I cashed the insurance check.”
As soon as I said that, I wished I hadn’t. Wasn’t one of the rumors about me that I had killed him for the insurance money? But Charlotte said, “They don’t give out those checks unless they are damn sure you’re dead. Believe the brand-new insurance guru on that one.”
We both laughed, which was a little macabre. But you had to laugh or you’d cry.
The crowd cheered again, and I looked up to see a kick sailing through the goalposts. Merit’s friend Alex was a senior who I thought was a particularly good influence. He complained that kicker was the only position his mother would let him play because she didn’t want him to get hurt. But, funny thing, as much as he didn’t want that position, he was being recruited by top schools in both the Southeastern and Atlantic Coast conferences. Moms can be pretty smart sometimes.
Charlotte put her arm around me. “Do you know what I think?”
I shook my head.
“I’ve always thought that those little glimpses were God winks, reminders from the other side that the people we love are still with us. I bet Jeremy is always watching over you because he wants you to be happy.”
“Is he? Or is he pissed and killing off my other husbands?”
We both laughed again, the light mood returning to the evening.
“Thank you, Charlotte,” I said. “Sometimes it does help to talk about these things.”
“I’m always here,” she said.
“I know.” It shocked me that I meant it. I loved Julie and Grace with all my heart, but they needed me in a way that Charlotte didn’t. I felt like I couldn’t confide in them because they had so much else to worry about. Charlotte had a confidence about her, even during this terrible time, that made me know she was someone who could be relied on. I think that’s why I felt I could open up to her. It was nice, after so many years of hiding so many parts of myself, to feel like I had a true friend.
I heard Julie, from the other end of the girls, yell, “Elliott! We’re over here!”
He caught my eye and smiled; even from a distance, he made my heart race, my mouth go dry, my palms sweat. And suddenly I realized I didn’t want to be in a crowded stadium with him. I wanted to be very much alone.
Grace leaned over. “I still can’t believe you even pretended to try to break up with him. That man is a god.”
“He’s real, too,” Charlotte said, elbowing me.
“What?” Grace asked. It was so loud in the stadium she couldn’t have overheard our earlier conversation, despite her proximity.
“I’m just being silly,” Charlotte said as Elliott reached us and leaned down to kiss me for the whole world to see, his hands full of snacks.
“You’d better be careful,” I said. “You’ll be getting calls tomorrow about consorting with the Black Widow.”
He laughed and kissed me again. “Don’t care,” he said. “I still hold the Juniper Shores Prep bench press record. You can’t off me. Too strong.” I put my hand on his arm. He was very, very strong.
Charlotte added, “Plus, how many people could even be left to call him after the flurry I’m sure he encountered after Belle Epoque.”
Elliott nodded. “She’s right. There can’t be anyone left in town.” He winked at me.
I laughed, and Elliott handed out popcorn and candy to all of us.
“You know the way to our hearts!” Julie said.
“Especially mine,” I whispered. We settled onto the hard ribbed metal of the bleachers, and Elliott took my hand. Just the feel of it caused goose bumps on my arm, heat in my body. He was being so patient with me. I scooted closer to him, realizing that maybe I was losing mine.
“Elliott!” Brenna called. She had met him several times at the house, and the girls all loved him. It was hard not to. “Open your mouth, and I’m going to see if I can throw popcorn in it!”
“Oh yes!” he said.
From beyond her, Julie reminded them, “Now, girls, this is only a grown-up game. It’s a choking hazard.”
I would be prepared to do the Heimlich. All I needed was for Elliott to choke to death beside me on the bleachers. Elliott opened his mouth, Brenna threw the piece of popcorn, he moved his head just in time, and our whole little section cheered as he caught it. People looked at us strangely because nothing exciting was happening in the game. But we were in our own little world. I liked how it felt, how it sounded. I liked having Elliott as a part of it. It made me sad that, one day in the future, I would have to choose between this man I loved and these women and their children who felt like my family.
Elliott leaned over and kissed my cheek, and for a moment I stopped worrying. Merit threw another touchdown pass, and we were on our feet again, cheering. This, I felt in my very bones, was what Friday nights were made for. Friends, fun, football. And popcorn, always popcorn.