Chapter 30. Juniper
Juniper
SONG OF THE DAY:
“What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?” by Norah Jones
Lansing’s downtown ice rink
is significantly more crowded
than last time I was here
the ice itself nicked and overworked
the fairy lights
dancing like june bugs over the faces
of laughing families
couples holding mittened hands.
For the last two hours
I’ve been skating around in circles
trying to stay warm
trying to keep
my intrusive thoughts at bay.
I have no idea if Lyric
saw my live
or if she is going to show up
but I’m here
going in circles
making new tracks
trying to remember
this is my life to live.
This morning
over eggs and coffee
I sat Mom and Mama down
and told them I was going to do it
take a gap year
that I owed it to myself
to see it through.
Mom pursed her lips
but didn’t protest any further.
It sounds like you’re sure.
I am, I started, but
I’ve amended my plan a bit.
How’s that? Mama Alice said, perking up.
I did some research
and I found a job
that sounds perfect for me.
It’s through the YMCA.
Every summer, they look for
team leaders to accompany
rising ninth graders on service learning trips
across the country.
I’ve applied to be an assistant lead
on the service to the west trip.
And I got an interview next week.
If I get the job, I’ll be
living on a school bus
and sleeping on gym floors
for six weeks this summer
cleaning up graveyards
visiting national monuments
and state parks
alongside these kids.
It’s not exactly the road trip
I had planned
but it will provide me some safety
and it pays decently—so I can cover
my living expenses.
And what about after
the six weeks?
Mom asked
with a raised eyebrow.
Well, I haven’t figured
that out yet,
I said.
But I will.
To say that my moms
were enthusiastic
about my amended plan
would be a stretch.
But Mama Alice
did seem less worried
about safety
and Mom said she’d help me prep
for my interview
so that
was something.
Now, if Lyric would just
show up
so I can apologize in person
let her know
this has always been
real to me.
I’ll be OK.
I’d be lying if I said
that I don’t care
if she rejects me
because that will suck.
But I’d at least like the chance
to make things right.
I loop the rink again
faster this time
weaving in and out of bodies
until all my surroundings blur together.
It’s just past eleven.
I can hear the nearby speaker system
counting down
with a digital clock
an animated disco ball
projected on a big screen
waiting to drop at midnight.
If she doesn’t come
you will be OK,
I start to repeat in my head.
You tried, that’s all that matters.
I’m going so fast now
it feels like I’m a blue heron
gliding over Lake Michigan
untouched
unbothered by gravity.
And then for just a moment
it really seems as if
my feet are lifting
up from the earth.
And—oh shit.
That’s because they are.
I’ve lost my balance.
I hear someone scream: Watch out!
Then THUD, I’m down for the count
slamming into the guardrails
my beanie thrown off
lungs heaving.
So much for
defying gravity,
I mumble as I crawl around on my knees
rescuing my hat
from almost getting run over.
I’m about to pull myself up
to a standing position
when a wobbly pair of skates
accompanied by one of those walkers
kids learning to navigate the ice use
appears before me.
Well, well, well,
a familiar voice calls down to me.
My, how the tables have turned.
I scramble to my feet
ignoring my throbbing backside.
This is not
how I saw this going.
You’re here, I blurt out.
I am,
Lyric responds
her tone neutral.
She is wearing jeans
an oversized purple hoodie
that peeks out from under a black coat.
She is radiant
half of her braids thrown up
in two haphazard space buns
the rest flowing around her shoulders
and down her back
like a curtain of willow branches
in summer an oasis
of shade and warmth
and her skin
it glows—
as if the moon itself
is shining from within her.
I spent hours this morning
coming up with what I wanted to say
if she showed up
and now here she is
and I can’t find the words.
So, I say the first thing
I think of.
Did my live ruin
your BeautyStarz following?
Seriously
that’s what you want to start with?
Lyric snorts.
I thought it might have
but it turns out
it’s true what they say:
all publicity is good publicity.
Did I lose some followers? A few, sure.
But all in all your little confession
only made people want to know
what happens next.
With us?
I ask.
Yes, genius.
With us.
Lyric sighs.
You got me out here
on this treacherous-ass ice
again
so, what happens next?
I take a breath
and slide myself
closer to her on the ice
so that I am just inches
away from her mouth
and can look her in the eye.
All around us, people whiz by
but it feels like
we are in our own bubble.
I hold Lyric’s gaze.
I’m sorry,
I start.
I’m so sorry.
I messed this all up.
But if you’re willing
I’d like for us to try again, IRL.
It’s not the
speech I had planned,
but it feels honest
and to the point.
Before Lyric can respond
the crowd around us starts to chant
the final countdown to midnight
ticking away.
Look—I scream over the noise.
You don’t have to decide now
you can take as much time—
Hold that thought,
Lyric says, pressing her fingers
to my lips.
I go quiet
as Lyric removes her fingers
smiles and leans in toward me.
Happy New Year, Juniper,
she whispers, kissing me soft
and long
as “Auld Lang Syne”
starts to play
the sweet melody of the song
ringing all through the air.
And I am ringing too
my whole body
a vibrating shell of
song and snow
hope and desire
and maybe
this is what love is?
A ringing.
Circles and circles of growth
a choice to stand sturdy
and tall with someone
who wants to start again
whose touch is forgiveness
who wants to kiss your face off
in the cold until
it hurts good until
everything tingles with heat
and promise
the delightful unknown.
I pull back after
what feels like forever
my knees trembling.
So, that’s a yes?
I say.
So, you’ve had a crush on me
since the fall?
Lyric grins back.
About damn time!
someone yells from
behind us.
I turn around and see Kiana
holding a cup of hot chocolate
beaming at us.
Creeper!
Lyric teases
sticking out her tongue.
Kiana waves her off
with a short laugh.
Then she mouths something silent
to Lyric
and walks away
holding her phone to her ear.
What’s going on there?
I ask.
It’s Holden,
Lyric says.
He called her on our ride over
but Ki was driving criminally fast
to get me here on time
so she couldn’t answer.
Looks like
both of our New Year’s
are looking up.
I grin at Lyric
and then go in
for one more kiss.
This time she lets go of her walker
and wraps both arms
around my neck
so that we are
holding one another
sturdy.
When we come up for air
most of the rink has cleared out
except for a handful of committed others.
A Norah Jones
track starts to play
and it’s one of my favorites.
You ready to take a spin
with me?
I ask, hand outstretched to Lyric.
Hell no.
Lyric laughs
turning away from me
to hobble toward the exit
gripping her walker tight.
But you can buy me a hot chocolate!
she yells over her shoulder.
I laugh
and follow her
off the ice.
Once our skates are returned
I order us two
steaming cups of chocolate
and we find an open bench.
Get close,
Lyric says softly
as we sit down.
Hold me, please.
So, I do just that.
I wrap one arm around her
pulling her into me tight.
Then we sit
listening to Norah
sing the final notes of
“What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?”
I don’t know
how long we’ll sit here
or if Lyric and I
will make it past next year.
For now, though, despite our wounds
our missteps and blunders
I choose her
and she chooses me.
For now, it’s enough to be here
witnessing the snow
coming down in fluffy, wet flakes
to be tucked close
in this dark sparkle of winter
where we are alive and brand-new
and full of wonder.