Gridiron Restaurant Memphis, Tennessee
Gridiron Restaurant
Memphis, Tennessee
Three days later Livy showed up at Goldsmith’s again wearing a darling miniskirt, asking me to go to lunch. She claimed she had this great idea she wanted to run past me. The one time I’d dared to wear a miniskirt, Dad ordered me back to my room to change, telling me I looked like a streetwalker.
We walked over to the Gridiron and had to wait ten minutes for a booth.
I felt giddy having Livy back in my life.
Sure, there was a ten-ton elephant in the restaurant with a sign on his back reading: Livy walked out on your friendship three years ago, and now she wants back in.
Without a verbal apology. But I did not care.
She had a gravitational pull, tugging me inside her orbit. Always had.
“Have you listened to the records?” she asked as soon as the waitress took our order.
“Three of them.”
“That’s all?”
“It was hard enough listening to three. I told you I’d have to sneak. It was incredibly risky.”
“And? What’d you think?”
“You were right. Joni Mitchell’s voice is life changing. Same with Joan Baez. But the Crosby, Stills Jimi Hendrix; Janis Joplin; Creedence Clearwater Revival; Blood, Sweat & Tears. You know them: ‘Spinning Wheel.’” She sang the title and gestured toward me like I was supposed to sing the next line.
I shook my head. “I’ve heard it, but I don’t know the words.” That was a lie. I’d never heard it before.
“Wanna know what else is cool?”
Anything was possible with Livy.
She bounced in the booth, throwing her arms up like a cheerleader. “Crosby, Stills & Nash will be there!”
Just the mere mention of that band made my body twitch.
“I can’t wait!”
“You’re going?” I asked, the green-eyed monster nipping at my heels.
“Of course I’m going. But my last day at Dinstuhl’s is August thirteenth, and it starts the fifteenth. My boyfriend’s going early to get us a good camping spot.”
“Will Joni Mitchell be there?”
“She’s not on the roster, but she and Graham Nash are lovers. I bet she makes a surprise appearance.”
“Wow,” I muttered, even more jealous. If that was possible. “Promise you’ll write me all about it when you get back to school?” I took a sip of my Coke.
“I don’t make promises anymore.” Livy smiled. “Besides, I won’t have to. You’re coming with me.”
Guttural laughter—and Coca-Cola—spewed from my lips. “Obviously you’ve forgotten who my father is.”
Livy didn’t laugh. Crestfallen, she gripped the table ledge. “I have not forgotten who your father is, trust me. But, SuSu, you’re twenty years old. You should be making your own decisions.”
“Maybe you can do stuff like that in your house, but I sure can’t in mine. As Dad often reminds me, I won’t be a legal adult until I’m twenty-one.”
“Yeah,” she said sarcastically. “We can’t drink, we can’t vote, we can’t gamble, but we can damn sure put automatic weapons in the hands of our eighteen-year-old underage boys and send them off to Vietnam to be shot to hell.”
“Livy!”
She gasped, thrust a palm over her mouth. “Oh, SuSu, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She reached over to squeeze my hand. “Vietnam just gets me so angry.”
With a loud sigh, I squeezed back but quickly let go.
“Technically we’re still minors, but who’s following that rule these days?” she said.
“Me! My parents made it very clear. If I’m on their payroll, I abide by their rules. They pay for everything. Except my clothes.”
“Ugh,” Livy moaned, throwing her head back.
“Would you rather I not go to college? Work here the rest of my life?” I gestured toward the cooks in front of the griddle.
“Of course not. I just think there’s a way around it. It’s your life! You should be living it the way you want to.”
“Believe me. I fully intend to live my life on my own terms, the second I turn twenty-one.”
Livy’s eyes widened. “You’re gonna let your parents police you for another solid year?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re lucky, Livy. Most parents aren’t as lenient as yours.”
“I think they’ve figured out I’m gonna do what I want, so they might as well support me.” She grinned. “Within reason.”
“Can you imagine my dad if I came to him and said, ‘Hey, Dad, Livy wants me to go to an outdoor music festival with her. I need you to support me on this.’” Lifting in my seat, I leaned halfway across the table.
“‘Oh, and by the way, it’s in New York. I’ll need seventy dollars to cover my expenses.
’” I sat back down, took a bite of my burger.
“Oh gosh. Don’t do that.” Livy sliced her hands through the air like an umpire. “Listen, you’re wrong about the money. The tickets are only eighteen dollars for all three days.”
I covered my full-of-cheeseburger mouth, speaking through slits in my fingers. “I only make a dollar thirty-five an hour.”
“If you consider we’ll be seeing the best bands in the world, and camping for free, it’s a bargain.” With palms in the air, she gave me a fixed stare.
“Maybe a bargain for you.” I glared back like she was crazy. “Are you lost in space? You know I can’t go. Besides, you’re talking about driving all the way to New York. How many hours is that?”
“What happened to your sense of adventure? There was a time when you would have jumped on the stage with the Beatles.”
Sadness pricked an old wound. “Not anymore.” As quickly as the sorrow arrived, hearing her mention the Fab Four kindled a thrill I hadn’t felt in a very long time. So I reconsidered. “Will they be there?”
“Maybe. The only live show they’ve played in three years was that rooftop show in London. But even if they aren’t there, the festival will still be outta sight.”
I fingered the gold cross around my neck, zipping it back and forth on the chain.
“Come on, SuSu. You need this,” Livy begged. “Please come with me. I’d love for you to meet my boyfriend.”
More than anything I wanted to go. But I’d have to run away to do it.
After an extra-long pause filled with mental turmoil, I zeroed in on my oldest friend’s face.
“I appreciate what you’re doing. I swear.
But there’d be hell to pay.” Leaning back in the booth, I gave her my final answer. “No way, José.”
Livy rested her chin on the table, then lifted her eyes. “Are you one hundred percent sure?”
Even though deep down inside I was torn—so torn—I said, “Maybe after I turn twenty-one there’ll be another Aquarian something or other in New York. We can go to that one.”
“Look,” Livy said, in her signature bossy voice. “Don’t make your decision right now. Just take a couple weeks and think about it. Please.”
I would have killed to go, but there was no way in heck I could risk it. Even still, I could read the writing on her forehead in all caps: I will not stop bugging you until you say yes. “I’ll think about it,” I said. “But please do not count on me.”
“You’d be making a giant mistake. The festival is gonna set your soul free. And that’s exactly what you need.” She pressed her lips together and gave me an oversize shrug.
Anger flared. How do you know what I need, Livy Foster? And what the hell gives you the right to decide it for me? “I can make my own decisions about my life, thank you.” I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest.
Livy shut her eyes for an extra-long moment, then dived down to her Coke for a sip. With lips inches from the straw, she looked me square in the eye. “I bet Ronny would give anything to be there. If nothing else, you should go for his sake.”