Forty-One
Shiloh met Cary for dinner again.
And then he came over again, to have dinner with her and the kids. Shiloh made Monte Cristo sandwiches, with powdered sugar
and rhubarb jam. Cary had never tried rhubarb. He liked it.
They watched a Disney movie. Gus was clingy and wouldn’t leave Shiloh’s lap.
She and Cary ended the night on the couch, talking. Not touching. When he said goodbye, his hand brushed over the back of
her neck.
The next day, he moved his mom into the rehab center.
It was a rough transition. Cary was worried about her. He spent the night in her room.
He texted Shiloh a few times over the weekend. He was angry with his sister. He was angry with her husband. One of his mom’s
ex-husbands had resurfaced. Cary hated him.
Shiloh wondered if Cary had been this angry all the time back in high school—and she just hadn’t fully appreciated it.
He was headed back to his ship next week, no matter how his mom was doing. He was frustrated about that. He was anxious. But
he was also looking forward to it, Shiloh suspected.
There were moments when Cary seemed so strange to her. This grown man. With a life so far away that she hadn’t really tried
to understand it. He seemed colder than she remembered him. More remote. Packed too tight for her to ever tease him loose.
But then sometimes he was the opposite... Forthright and vulnerable. Cracked open in a way the old Cary never was. He was
less contradictory in her memory—maybe she’d flattened him out over the years.
She and Cary seemed to be moving past... the past.
Shiloh was trying to fold it all in. To integrate: Cary as she remembered him from high school. The Cary in her dorm room. The Cary who came home with her after Mikey’s wedding, with all of his revelations. This Cary. Who seemed to have forgiven her. Who kept grounding himself on her hips and shoulders and ankles.
“Shiloh! Get a sitter! We’re going to Family Fun Time!”
Shiloh held the phone to her ear. “Mikey?”
“Yeah, Mikey. And Cary! The gang’s all here. Let’s do it, man. We’re coming to get you.”
“Now?”
“Now. Can you come?”
The kids were in bed. Her mom wouldn’t mind. “Yeah. I can come.”
“Bet!” Mikey said.
Shiloh was already in her pajamas. It was a Monday night. She changed into jeans and a short-sleeved flowered dress. Her hair
was damp. She pulled it back into a long ponytail. Platonic eyeliner seemed in order. And big hoop earrings. She looked in
the mirror. She still had some of her old bangles from high school. She loaded up one wrist.
She was sitting on the porch when Cary’s rental car pulled up, and Shiloh broke into a grin when Mikey got out of the passenger
seat.
“Hey, girl!” he called.
She stood up, laughing.
“I said we should make you squeeze into the middle, but Cary didn’t want you to break the cupholders in his rental car.”
“Killjoy,” Shiloh said.
“I know . Here, you can sit up front.” Mikey got in the back seat, and Shiloh got in the front.
“Hey,” she said to Cary. He nodded at her.
“There’s my crew!” Mikey said, slinging an arm around each of their necks.
Cary shook him off. “Buckle your seat belt. You’re a father.”
“How’s Otis?” Shiloh asked.
“He’s perfect,” Cary said.
Mikey moaned. “He’s trying to kill me. Jesus Christ!”
Shiloh turned in her seat. “That bad?”
“He never sleeps. So Janine never sleeps. She cries all the time. She’s losing her hair. She sends me articles about postpartum
psychosis.”
Cary frowned. “Maybe we should go back to your house...”
“It’s fine.” Mikey laid his hand on Shiloh’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Shiloh—her mother’s there. But also it’s a fucking nightmare !”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It gets better, I promise.”
“I don’t know how you did this alone. There are two of us, and neither of us is working. We’re just in his thrall. I’d say
he was the son of Satan, but my mom says he looks just like me.”
Shiloh laughed.
“He’s a good baby,” Cary said. “He’s very stout.”
“From draining my life force,” Mikey said. “Thank god Cary showed up to spirit me away.”
“He is a good baby,” Shiloh agreed. “All babies are good babies.”
Cary smiled at the road.
“Shiloh, get off your phone. Be present.” Mikey and Cary were playing Double Dragon .
Family Fun Time was a two-story arcade owned by some religious people. The tokens were stamped with Praise the Lord . It hadn’t changed much since high school. There was laser tag now, plus a bunch of new games—a whole corner was dedicated
to Dance Dance Revolution .
Shiloh had been texting Tom about a work thing. (Tom had a BlackBerry and sent extravagant texts.) “What am I supposed to
do?” she said. “What did I do in 1991?”
Cary reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of tokens. “Go play Centipede .”
“I do like Centipede ...”
She found the machine at the other end of the floor—all the “retro” games were up here—and quickly dropped half her tokens into it. Shiloh wasn’t any good at Centipede . She never had been. After that, she tried to remember how to play BurgerTime . She couldn’t. She spent the rest of the tokens on Space Invaders .
Cary and Mikey were still playing Double Dragon . Shiloh stood behind Cary and tried to watch.
It was incredibly boring.
It had been boring in high school, too. But back then she was just happy to get out of the house.
Shiloh reached up and pulled Cary’s hair. It was only long enough to pull at the very top. He shook his head.
She did it again.
“Stop,” he said.
“Shiloh,” Mikey said in a distracted voice, “did you blow through those tokens already?”
“Yes.”
“You’re worse than my five-year-old nephew—oh! Snap! I got you!” He and Cary both started pounding on the buttons.
Shiloh watched for a minute.
Then she poked Cary’s side.
He reached back and scooped his arm around her waist. He pulled her up next to him and rested his hand on her back. He was
still playing, absolutely focused on the screen and rocking his right hand between the joystick and the attack buttons.
After a few seconds, he needed both hands again. Shiloh stayed close to him and quiet. She turned her head to watch his face.
His mouth was straight. The lights were dancing in his eyes. The game played electronic music, and the arcade was playing
Christian rock.
“How d’ya like the taste of my bat !” Mikey shouted.
Cary laughed. Then his shoulders went tense. “There you go,” he barked, “there you go, there you go—BOOM!”
Cary and Mikey sounded exactly like they always had. If Shiloh closed her eyes and pretended her lower back didn’t hurt, she could be seventeen again.
They both whooped when they cleared the level.
Cary glanced over at Shiloh, like he was just now realizing how close she was. His face was red from laughing and yelling.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek.
“Mother fuck, ” Mikey said. “Three of my fingers are going numb. This is my painting hand. I have a family to support.”
Cary elbowed him. “Eyes up. Next level.”
Shiloh bought herself popcorn and a Diet Coke and dragged a stool around the retro section, following Mikey and Cary from
game to game. Then she had to find somebody to give her the key to the bathroom. It was tied to a chunk of wood.
When she came out, the guys were waiting for her in the lobby. Mikey was doing an impression of a Double Dragon villain, and Cary was laughing so hard his shoulders were shaking.
“We should go get a beer or something,” Mikey said.
Cary looked at her. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”
“I can be hungover,” she said. “The eight-year-olds won’t notice.”
“What would we have done in 1991?” Mikey asked.
Shiloh yawned. “We would have gotten Taco Bell.”
“Oh yeah... ” he said. “Let’s make a run for the border.”
They went through the drive-through. Mikey ate a chalupa and immediately lay down in the back seat. “That’s all for me, folks.
That’s all she wrote. Wake me up when I’m dead.”
Cary drove Mikey home first. Mikey made him get out of the car for a goodbye hug. Shiloh watched from the front seat.
Mikey threw his arms around Cary. “You take care of yourself, and you call me next time. I’m your man on the ground.”
Cary said something that Shiloh couldn’t hear. Their voices buzzed for a minute. Then Mikey gave him another bear hug.
Shiloh liked watching them hug. It was like watching Gus eat.
Mikey pulled away and leaned down to Cary’s door. He pointed at Shiloh. “Pick up the phone when I call, Shy. Otis wants to
party with Gus and Juniper.”
Shiloh nodded. She yawned. “Maybe I’ll call you .”
She was still yawning when Cary got back in the car. Then she burped and made a face. Taco Bell.
Cary was smiling at her. “I’ll get you home, Cinderella.”
“I feel more like Rip Van Winkle.”
“I like this neighborhood,” Cary said idly.
“I like Mikey’s house,” she said. “I still can’t believe he left New York for Omaha.”
“It’s a more comprehensible place to raise a family, especially if you had a happy childhood here.”
Shiloh thought of Mikey’s family and the little house he grew up in... His old neighborhood wasn’t as nice as his new one,
but it was a step up from Cary and Shiloh’s. His parents still lived there. They were still together.
“I’d like to go to one of his art shows,” she said. “Maybe he’ll have a show here.”
“Or maybe you could go to New York City or Chicago...”
“Or Munich?” That was the last place Mikey had had an exhibit.
“Or Munich,” Cary said, smiling.
“I’m glad you guys called me,” she said. “That felt like time travel.”
“We’ll do it again. I’ll be back to see my mom.”
She rolled her head toward him. “Are you gonna call me when you come back?”
He glanced at her like she was being weird. “Yeah. Don’t you want me to?”
“Yes, I want you to.” She poked his arm. “I don’t want to go another fourteen years without talking to you.”
He was already pulling into her driveway. “I don’t want that either.”
Cary turned off the car. They were both looking at their laps.
“When do you leave?” she asked.
“Day after tomorrow.”
Shiloh hummed.
“I might not see you again before I go,” he said.
She looked up a little. “Do you want to come in for a while?”
“No. You better get to sleep. I’m tired, too.”
“Yeah.” She squeezed his arm and opened her door.
“I’ll walk you up,” Cary said abruptly, getting out of the car.
He followed her up the steps and reached ahead of her to hold the porch door open.
They stopped on the porch. They could hear the TV. Shiloh’s mom was probably in the living room—she didn’t have cable in her
room.
Shiloh looked up at Cary.
“Thank you,” he said, “for everything.”
She nodded. “I meant what I said—I don’t want to go another fourteen years without talking to you.”
“Okay.”
“You’re the best friend I ever had, Cary.”
He was looking in her eyes. His cheeks dimpled. “You too, Shiloh.”
Shiloh touched his chest pocket. She pulled on his collar.
Cary reached up and touched her cheek. He rubbed the bottom of her chin with his thumb.
The door opened, and Junie sang out, “Welcome hooome!”
Then her eyes got big and her mouth dropped open. It wasn’t an act.
She turned around and ran up the stairs.
Cary looked even more horrified than Junie had. “I’m—”
“Good night,” Shiloh said, hurrying away from him into the house and flinging the door closed behind her.
Her mom was getting off the couch.
“What is Junie doing up?” Shiloh demanded.
“She couldn’t sleep.”
“Why’d you let her open the door!”
“I didn’t! She heard you on the porch and rushed over to let you in.”
Shiloh was already halfway up the stairs. She went into the kids’ room. Junie was on her bed, rolled against the wall. The lights were off.
Shiloh sat on the bed. She touched Junie’s back. “Junie?”
“I don’t want to talk to you, Mommy.”
“Okay.”
Junie was crying. “I don’t want you to do that...”
Shiloh rubbed between her shoulder blades.
“I don’t want you to do that with Cary.”
“I understand,” Shiloh said. She wasn’t going to make any promises—even if they were ones she could easily keep. “I love you,
Juniper. I’m sorry I upset you.”
Junie sobbed. “You’re not supposed to do that.”
I am supposed to do that, Shiloh thought. But it wasn’t the right time to argue about it. Her skin was crawling with shame. Her gut was full of it.
“I don’t want Cary to come over again,” Junie said.
“Cary’s going home,” Shiloh said.
“Where does he live?”
“On the ocean.”