Chapter 20. Juniper

Juniper

SONG OF THE DAY:

“I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm” by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong

When I get home from my run

I shower and let the steam

circle in and out of my lungs

the scent from my peppermint soap

hovering in the thick air.

I try to focus on

the evening ahead.

Seeing Lyric at work

getting invited

to a movie night

has me faintly nauseated

my stomach flipping

as if full of dolphins

joyously riding waves.

What I hadn’t been able to tell Lyric

over coffee

is how quiet

my house has gotten

again.

Other than the afternoon

I got my Michigan State acceptance

when I found Mama Alice and Mom

dancing along to Etta

there’s been a creeping chill

of disconnection

that I can’t unfeel in our house.

I’m trying not to be too worried.

Sometimes this happens:

Mama Alice is an introvert

and Mom is a true extrovert.

When stressed

they have opposite ways of coping:

Mama Alice retreats into her art studio

and Mom gets extra social

saying yes to plans

additional meetings on campus.

I know they like their independence

but when I emerge from my room

all fresh and clean

and head into the living room and kitchen

I find Mama Alice on the couch

alone again

pulling up a show on the TV.

Hey, Junie, Mama Alice says.

She’s still in her overalls splattered with paint

her blond hair on top of her head

in a messy bun

a Slim Jim sticking out of her mouth

as she chews on it slowly.

Hi, Mama, I say, beelining for the pantry

to load up my bag

with movie snacks.

Where are you rushing to, love?

Um—I’m going over to Lyric’s.

For a movie night—don’t want to show up

empty-handed.

That sounds nice. Mama Alice nods

studying me closely

from her perch on the couch.

And how is your

social media partnership going?

I scratch a sudden itch

just below my hairline.

I don’t want to tell Mama Alice

that things have gotten

complicated—at least for me.

How maybe

I’m in a little

over my head.

It’s good, I lie.

We’re making money for sure.

So, that’s great

but tonight’s just a friend hang.

I’m glad to hear it.

And that extra cash won’t hurt

when you’re at college next fall.

I’m proud of you for saving up, Junie.

Shows maturity.

I swallow hard and nod.

Anyway—I’ll be home later.

If that’s cool? I add.

Fine by me. I think your mom’s

out again tonight

taking some job candidates to dinner,

Mama Alice starts.

Plus, I’ve got a date with L Word: Gen Q.

I cannot believe Shane is still doing

the same dirt she used to do

back in the original series—

I know, Mama, I say, trying not to roll my eyes.

Why do you even watch that show?

The acting is terrible.

Now, Junie.

You know I know that

but the acting is not the point.

I watch for the culture—

back in my day

we didn’t have all these TV shows

with queer or nonbinary characters.

In college, I had to jam into a tiny apartment

with every queer on campus

so I could watch a new episode

each week.

Showtime was expensive as hell

so we all chipped in and it was like

a whole family night event.

Oh, the drama! It was amazing. I sure do miss that.

I nod, because I know she does.

I also know that she stopped waiting for Mom

to watch the new episodes of Gen Q

because Mom was too busy.

What used to be their TV time together

had somehow turned into Mama’s solo TV time.

I feel a stab of guilt

that I’m not going to be home to join her.

Now don’t worry about me.

Mama Alice seems to read my mind.

I’m fine. You have fun with Lyric.

In fact

you should ask her what she’s doing

on Christmas Eve!

She’s more than welcome to spend it

with us if she doesn’t have plans.

Really? I don’t know.

That might be—I don’t know. Too much?

Well, just feel it out. But she’s welcome.

Anytime.

OK, I say, smiling. I’ll see.

I try not to be early

to Lyric’s

but I fail

and walk up the apartment steps

five minutes before seven.

I hate being late.

I hit the buzzer

and a few seconds later

she throws open the door.

Immediately, I’m hit

with the fresh scent of body wash and lotion.

I notice

that instead of the amazing blue lip she had on earlier

Lyric’s face is dewy clean

slightly flushed, her lips

pink and plump with just a little gloss on them.

Sorry—I can wait if you still need—

I blurt out.

No, no. Come in.

I just got out of the shower

and, uh, yeah, I was trying

to just clean up a little bit.

Grammy! Juniper is here,

she yells over her shoulder then.

Oh, I don’t care about mess,

I say, stepping inside.

Yeah, but I do.

Grammy Viv

taught me to never

have company over

with dishes still in the sink.

I smile and shrug, looking around.

So, this is your place?

It feels like it.

What does that mean?

I mean, it’s nice.

Cozy, organized, colorful.

Thanks,

Lyric says.

My room’s a little makeshift

with the screens and all

but we make it work.

Well, are y’all coming

in here or what?!

Ms. Viv calls at us from the bedroom.

I laugh

following Lyric

through the apartment.

Ms. Viv is propped up

in an armchair next to a full bed

wearing a floral sweat-suit set.

She smiles at us when we enter.

Hello, Ms. Viv,

I say.

Look at you

all cute and cozy!

Nice to see you again.

Oh hush, Juniper

your flattery is wasted on me.

But it’s good to see you again too.

I like you so much better than that

lil light-skinned model boy

Lyric was running around with.

I choke on a laugh.

You mean Jamison?

Here we go! Lyric says

throwing up her hands

in mock annoyance.

You never even spent time with him!

Sure didn’t, Ms. Viv confirms,

but that’s because

you never brought him around.

Just let him honk his horn

at you from outside

and you’d run down there

like it was nothing.

I’m not saying I needed to be

all up in your business

but if he was important to you

I would have liked to meet him.

Well, Lyric coughs awkwardly.

He’s not important, Grammy.

OK, then, Ms. Viv says.

All I’m trying to say is

it’s nice to have you here, Juniper.

Lyric needs some fun

and good people

in her life.

Now—what’s that you got there

in that bag?

Oh! I say, setting down the snacks.

I brought some movie night

supplies: extra butter popcorn

Peanut M&M’s, and Twizzlers!

You can put all those sweets

right over here next to me,

Grammy says, making room

on her side table.

Um, no,

Lyric says, laughing.

We will be sharing

the candy, Grammy.

I’m going to heat up this popcorn.

You two can pick the movie.

We fall into an easy rhythm.

Ms. Viv and I scroll through options on Hulu

and pick a dark, twisted movie on Lifetime

where a contractor-turned-stalker

starts living in the walls

of a woman’s house.

Lyric brings in a huge bowl of popcorn

and we settle in on Ms. Viv’s bed

to watch.

Get ready for the Grammy Viv

movie experience,

Lyric whispers to me

as she pushes play.

I soon learn

that Ms. Viv

likes to provide

ongoing commentary

scene by scene.

We watch

and I’m not sure what’s better

the truly unhinged plot

the relaxed and natural state Lyric

seems to be in by my side

or Ms. Viv yelling at the TV:

HE’S IN YOUR WALLS GIRL!

RUN!!!!

and then:

TAKE HIS ASS OUT, GIRL!

YOU BETTA USE THAT NAIL GUN. I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT.

By the end of the movie

we are all rolling with laughter

whooping and hollering

as the leading lady

shoots her stalker to death with a nail gun

and shoves his body

behind the same drywalls he was spying from.

I’m beat,

Ms. Viv says

after we calm down.

That was a wild ride.

I gotta take myself to bed now.

OK, Grammy,

Lyric says

jumping into action.

Let’s get you ready.

Then to me: You can stay if you want.

I just need a few minutes—

to get her settled.

Oh, yeah, no problem.

I stand up

start collecting the

popcorn bowl

and candy wrappers.

I’ll just clean these up

give you some privacy.

Take your time.

Good night, Ms. Viv.

Thanks for all the laughs,

I say as I walk out.

Night, night, Juniper.

Don’t be a stranger now,

she responds.

I head into the kitchen

to wash the bowl.

I pull out my phone

press play on a classic Ella and Louis track

and hum along softly

as I fill the sink with soap.

As I lay the last bowl out to dry

Lyric shuts the door

to Ms. Viv’s room

and joins me in the kitchen.

Who is singing?

Lyric asks

leaning against the counter

across from me.

Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.

Two of the jazz greats.

You’ve never heard of them?

Lyric shrugs and starts to sway a bit.

Grammy probably knows them

but no, I don’t think I’ve heard this song.

It’s refreshing.

If I have to hear “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”

one more time

I’m gonna light something on fire.

Whoa, now.

Please do not commit arson

over one of the worst

most rapey Christmas songs ever.

I beg you. It’s not worth it.

No promises, Lyric says

smiling and beginning to

tap her foot along with the song.

I don’t even think

about what I do next

I just take her hands in mine.

What—she begins.

Will you just trust me?

I say slowly.

We lock eyes

and she doesn’t move away

so I pull her in close

like at the dance last week.

Then right there in the kitchen

we do a little two-step

moving our hips

along to Ella and Louis singing

about winter and snow

and love keeping them warm.

Lyric is relaxed in my arms

and she smells like home.

I close my eyes

let the music take over

let my body melt

into the moment.

Juniper?

Lyric says as the song ends.

Uh-huh,

I say, pulling away slowly

letting the space filter back in between us.

Thank you for coming over tonight.

Grammy had a lot of fun.

And so did I.

Thanks for not being weird

about her being in my life.

Never,

I say.

You and she are a team.

I know that.

I had fun

but I needed this too.

You did?

Yeah, things at my house are, uh

well, let’s just say strained.

Still haven’t told them?

Nope. And also, they’ve just been kinda off—

they’ve had some marital issues in the past and I thought

it was getting better, but I don’t know.

I’m probably just being paranoid.

That’s hard. I’m sorry.

But I know you’ll find the right time to tell them.

Yeah.

I nod

and then because

I don’t know what else to say

I pull Lyric back into my arms.

We sway along to one more track

no cameras or eyes on us.

Just the two of us

creating a whole new story

with our movement.

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