Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Iwave back with a strange sense of déjà vu.
For a moment, it’s like being back in high school, wondering if I’ll be invited to the cool girls’ group.
Funny thing is that after Justin, I was in it.
By the time I was Julie’s age, I’d reached the top of the Blue Gil high school social status—having dated a varsity football player and being both captain of the girls’ basketball team and a varsity cheerleader.
Six years later, I wonder how far I’ve fallen.
“Jillian,” Julie calls again as she stands and makes her way down the metal stands, the other girls following closely behind.
Seven in all, flowing hair, bouncing boobs, and pink lips, come my direction.
“No way.” I hear one of the others say as I take a step toward them.
“Yes, that’s my sister, my oldest sister,” Julie clarifies.
Their voices are lost to the late afternoon breeze rustling the baby leaves.
I choose to take a few steps closer. Somewhere between the metal stands and parking lot we meet, Julie rushes forward with an awkward hug.
Beneath my touch, I feel her bones. As she steps back, I decide the push-up bra is giving her an illusion of rounder breasts.
I’m about to ask if she’s cold in short shorts and tank top. Before I can speak, she does, “Oh my God, Jillian, Mom said you’re here. I didn’t believe it.”
Despite the cool change in the air, Julie and her friends are all dressed alike, showcasing their lean legs, small waists, and round breasts. The earlier sun left their shoulders and cheeks kissed with pink.
“Hi. What’s going on?” I ask.
Seven sets of eyes peer around at one another and back to me.
Julie shrugs. “Watching the guys horse around until it gets dark.”
“What’s happening after dark?”
The girls giggle in unison until Julie flashes a look of shushing disapproval.
“Oh, you remember what there is to do around Blue Gil,” a blond with heavy eyeliner says a bit bashfully.
“I don’t remember there being a whole lot,” I say.
“McKenna’s barn was torn down last year,” the girl with black hair volunteers. “But the farm is still there. Back by the pond is far enough away from the road. There’s going to be a bonfire” —the other girls turn to her, but she continues— “there tonight for Coach.”
“How about,” Julie begins, “we tell our parents we’re staying with you? Mom said you’re staying at Stark Lake.”
Oh. Of course.
“That’s not a great idea,” I reply. “I don’t think the way to welcome myself back to Blue Gil is as an alibi for half the girls in the graduating class.”
“See,” the girl with black hair says. “I told you she wouldn’t help.”
“Come on,” Julie says, tilting her head and pouting her painted lips.
When I look away, I see the boys have stopped their game and are looking in our direction. “It looks like the guys miss their audience.”
Julie shrugs again. “We’ve got tonight covered. It’s going to be dope. You can still come out to the bonfire, Jillian.”
I half expect her next request to be for me to bring alcohol. Instead, she offers. “There’re a lot of hot older guys in town. You might know them. Or they might know you.”
My gaze narrows. “It’s been a while. I doubt anyone remembers me.”
“That’s not what we’ve heard,” a lighter blond says.
I want to ask what they’ve heard. Instead, Julie continues.
“Anyway, people came from all over for the funeral. Word is there will be a few kegs of brew, Skittles, and plenty of blow at the bonfire. I’m sure it won’t be a banger like parties in California, but it’s big for Blue Gil.
” Her lips curl upward. “And how often do you get to party with your little sister?”
“Yeah,” the one with the eyeliner says, “show us how it’s done.”
“How what is done?” I ask, wondering if they’re insinuating some great power I have to party and entice men.
Looking at the seven of them, I would wager they’ve all had sex more recently than I.
When they don’t answer my first question, I ask, “Is that really how you want others to remember you in Blue Gil?”
The dark haired girl laughs. “No one will remember. That’s the point. It’s to remember Coach and forget that he’s gone” —she elbows Julie— “you get what we mean.”
Instead of answering, I smile. While listening to students and graduates alike talk about Coach Gilbert could be insightful, the possibility of contributing to the delinquency of minors is reason enough to stay away.
The possibility of seeing my sister and her friends’ sexual exploits seals the deal.
Julie shines another smile. “Invitation is open.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Hey,” one of the boys from the makeshift football field calls.
As the girls turn to walk away, Julie spins back to me. “Hey, don’t mention the party to Mom.”
“I wasn’t planning on it. Just get home tonight.”
With another shrug, my sister turns back to her friends. More giggles fill the air as they run toward the stands.
A few minutes later back in the car, I find myself driving to the old McKenna farm.
It’s obvious from the road that the old barn is gone.
When the trees are filled with mature leaves, you could see the peaks of the roof above the branches.
Now, the lot is empty. I pull onto the dirt lane.
The surface is bumpy, filled with ruts and holes left by the recent rains.
Nearly half a mile later, the lane narrows and winds into a wooded area.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever been back this far.
I follow the lane. After two hundred yards, the road dips down a hill.
At the bottom, the trees part and I find exactly what the girls told me about.
There’s a pond, a large grassy field, and near the shore, there are three or four boys stacking brush and dead trees.
They pause for a moment to look at my car, and just as quickly go back to their project.
I hadn’t given much thought to the idea that other students would come back for the funeral. Maybe I was thinking too much about myself.
Who else is here?
Turning the car around, I head back up the hill, down the lane, and out to the main road. My tires spin on the loose dirt as mud pings against the undercarriage. Nearly twenty minutes later, I pull into the parking area behind the cottages. This time I check for certain.
My car is alone. No blue truck.
Inserting the key into the lock, I twist one way and the other. Finally, I hear the click. It’s as I turn the knob that I realize I just locked the door. But I locked it when I left.
I think I did.
Peering around the inside, I see everything as I left it and shake my head.
“You’re resurrecting too many ghosts,” I tell myself.
The entire time I unpack the groceries, I think about that bonfire and Julie.
She doesn’t need her big sister. She never has. Or at the very least, she’s never had the opportunity for this big sister.
With the groceries put away and a salad from the grocery store salad bar chilling in the refrigerator, I pour a glass of wine and decide to call my sister Olivia. Maybe my first little sister has been enough big sister for Julie.
Settling upon the sofa near the fireplace with the stem of the wine glass secure in one hand, I hit Liv’s number with the other. After a sip, I bring the phone to my ear. Liv answers right away.
“I heard you were in Blue Gil,” she says in place of a salutation.
“For a little while.”
“Mom said it’s for work, but you’re making time for family.”
Her tone is light and chipper, yet her words cause the wine in my stomach to percolate. “Hey, how is Julie?”
“How is she?”
“Yeah, how is she? I suck as a big sister and thought maybe you decided to take the job.”
My sister forces a laugh. “I didn’t exactly sign up for it, but I guess it’s mine.
” She sighs. “It’s not been an easy year for her.
It’s a weird dynamic at home. Going from the baby with three older siblings to having Mom and Dad’s full attention, when honestly, I think they’re both ready for the empty nest.”
“So do they pay attention to what she’s doing?”
“Some. Why?”
“I was—”
Liv interrupts. “They probably pay more than they did with you and less than they did with Ollie.”
Mom and Dad had three other children to deal with when I was here. Their attention was rightfully divided. Liv wasn’t far behind. And then there was Ollie. I stifle a laugh. “Poor Ollie. The burden of being the golden son.”
“Yeah, he survived—so far. We all did.”
That’s a broad statement.
Survival as in we’re breathing—yes.
Survival as in we came out unscathed—not so much.
I’m only speaking from personal experience.
“Okay, here’s the thing,” I blurt out, “I was driving around this afternoon and ended up at Brooks Park.”
“Why?”
I take a sip of my wine. “Being back here is making me nostalgic, I guess. Anyway, Julie and a group of girls were there. They were watching some boys horse around playing a pickup game of football. Maybe they were just trying to show off their chests. I’m not sure.”
“Probably showing off,” Liv says.
“Anyway, Julie came over with her friends and talked to me. First, she asked if all seven could say they were staying with me tonight.”
Liv scoffs. “Yeah, Mom said you’re staying out at Stark Lake.”
Our mother is a master communicator.
“I said no to Julie and to Mom when she invited me to stay with them.”
When I pause, Liv replies, “Then what did Julie say?”
“She invited me out to the McKenna farm for a bonfire, said there’d be brew, Skittles, and blow as if that was enticing.”
I wait as we sit for a bit in silence. Finally, Liv asks, “Did you know that Julie turned down Michigan State?”
“I didn’t.”
“She was all excited when she was accepted. Before Christmas it was all she could talk about. Now she plans to go to KVCC and stay at home for another year at least.”
“What changed her mind?”
“I really don’t know.” Liv’s voice seems more serious. “She was dating Austin Kolldike. They’d been together for a while. I can’t remember when it started. They broke up and I think she’s a bit lost. Now there’s this thing with Coach Gilbert.”
Yeah, he is dead.
I don’t say that.
Liv continues, “The whole town is touchy. It’s a bummer for the seniors to end their year this way.”
I recall Serena’s stare. “Didn’t work out so well for Craig either.”
Liv laughs. “True.”
“Is Julie thinner than before?”
“Like I said, it’s been a rough year.”
“Do you think she’ll be okay tonight?”
“I don’t know. She’s with her friends. What are you going to do?
You’re what...almost twenty-five years old?
If Sheriff Manes breaks up the party, he’ll more than likely send everyone home.
That’s the Blue Gil way. If there are older people there, he could get shitty.
He’s been in a place since the coach was found, according to people I know still living in Blue Gil.
The residents want to know why law enforcement didn’t find the body and left it to boys.
Since Austin was one of the boys who found him, I can see how it might be messing with Julie. ”
“Austin was one of the football players who found Coach Gilbert?”
“Yeah,” Liv replies. “I don’t think their names have been officially released. It was Austin and Paxton Buyer, both seniors. According to my friend Beth, there was a big uproar, complaining about Sheriff Manes and the other deputies. He’s standing by his word that the area was previously searched.”
“Do you think that someone moved Craig...I mean, the coach’s body?”
“Ew. No. I don’t know.” Her answer continues to change. “Maybe you spend too much time working in fiction, not that your job isn’t sweet.”
That’s what Becky said.
“Are you going to church and Sunday dinner tomorrow?” Liv asks.
“I wasn’t sure, but talking to you makes me feel better.”
“Oh, do it for Mom. Matt and I will join you. I’ll play little sister and help deflect if Dad or Mom gets annoying.”
“Thanks, Liv. Do you think I should go out to the McKenna farm?”
“I don’t. No good will come of it. If Mom finds out, she’ll accuse you of going behind her back. Just play dumb. You’ve only been in town for twenty-four hours; how could you know what’s going on?”
“Right. See you tomorrow.”
“Glad to have you home,” Liv says, “even for a little bit.”
As I disconnect the call, I can’t help but think about what Liv and Sheriff Manes said. The sheriff’s department searched the ditch where Craig Gilbert was found. If that’s true, how did they miss him?
Was he there?
I pour another glass of wine as the wind picks up outside the cottage.