Scene 3
Scene Three
When Rob drops me off, we’re holding hands across the front seat, my palm lightly resting in his.
“Should I come in?” he asks.
I glance from our intertwined hands to my front door.
“No,” I say. “Why don’t we shelve that conversation.
Just for a little.” There wouldn’t be anything strange about Rob coming in—Rob and I have been out a million times, and he always comes over after—but I’m not sure how much my parents know, and how much I’m ready to tell them.
He smiles and cuts the engine, releasing my hand and leaning over in his seat. He plants a kiss on my temple, one above the bridge of my nose, and then one gently on my lips.
“Okay,” he says. “Sleep sweet, Rosie.” It’s the same good night he’s been giving me since we were kids, but this time it makes my heart rattle in my chest.
“Sleep sweet,” I whisper. I stumble out of the car and into my house, dizzy from his lips.
Our front door opens into our kitchen. My parents are always hanging out in there, drinking tea and reading the paper in their bathrobes until midnight. I swear if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s dark out, you’d think it was morning.
Tonight when I come inside, they’re not there, though. Instead they are in the living room with Rob’s parents. They’re talking so loudly, they don’t hear me enter.
“I don’t know what to say,” Rob’s mother says.
She’s sitting on the arm of Rob’s father’s chair.
He has his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
My mom is standing, holding a glass, and so is my father, which is strange, because neither of them ever drinks. They don’t even like wine with dinner.
“Have you spoken to them?” Rob’s father asks.
My father shakes his head. “I left a message with his office, but no one has gotten back to me.” He looks at my mom. “I don’t even have their home number.”
“Why call?” Rob’s mother asks. “Isn’t it best to leave things as they are?”
“This is a small town, Jackie. You know that. We’ll run into them sooner or later,” my dad says.
“This is a nightmare,” Rob’s father says. He looks angry, which is new for him. He’s got four boys, and he rarely ever even raises his voice.
My mom takes a sip of her drink. “Why come back now?” she says.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Rob’s mom says. They all look at her intently, their backs erect. “They want revenge.”
The floorboards choose that moment to creak under my feet, and all four heads swivel to look at me standing in the doorway.
“Rosie,” my mom says. She turns around and must send my dad some kind of look, because in the next instant he sets his glass down and comes over to me.
“Sorry for all the ruckus,” he says.
“Hi.” I wave to Rob’s folks.
Rob’s mom smiles weakly, and his dad chirps up, “Hey, kiddo. How was dinner?”
My cheeks flush pink. “Good,” I say. “We had Italian.” Everyone nods.
“Sounds delicious,” Rob’s dad says.
“Everything okay?” I ask. Asking your parents if everything is okay is a little like asking your math teacher is she’s really going to give that pop quiz. You already know the answer.
“Oh, yeah,” my mom says. “Just politics.”
My dad smiles to second what she said.
“Well, I’m gonna hit the hay,” I say. “AP Bio in the a.m.” I give them a look like, You know, although no one seems to.
“Good night, cookie,” my dad says. The living room erupts into a chorus of good nights, and I turn from them, perplexed, and climb the stairs.
But I don’t want to think about Juliet’s family or guess how Rob’s parents are involved in whatever went wrong.
Tonight is about me and Rob. I just want to fall asleep remembering his kisses.