around the concessions and through the rows of cars trying to find Nick, getting colder and colder because I hadn’t brought a sweater.
When I finally gave up, embarrassed but not all that crushed that Nick hadn’t shown up, I wandered back to Sean’s car. No one was paying any attention to American Graffiti , and in fact no one was in the car at all. Sally was passing around a flask.
Robert saw me approach first and said, “Well, look here, a fair Irish lass.”
His voice was rich in a way that set him apart from the other boys. Not deep, exactly, but warm and resonant. He had a shock of dark, dark hair, and in the faint light from the movie screen and the moon, his smile made my stomach shiver.
I looked at my shoes and rubbed my bare arms with my hands.
“Hey, you’re cold,” he said, draping his jacket around my shoulders like a cape.
“Won’t you be cold?” I asked him. I could see goose bumps on his arms where his short-sleeved shirt ended.
“Nah.” He winked at me. “Not a bit.”
He drove me home himself that night and walked me to the door, so I wouldn’t have to spend one cold moment without his jacket. He stood on the porch while I let myself in, smiling at me but doing no more than that. I was just a kid, after all.
I had to lean on the door to catch my breath.
Of course, Robert understood the effect he had on me. He was a savvy twenty-two years old by then. I was just a teenager and experience-wise barely out of puberty. And I thought I was playing it cool! I was a puddle every time I saw him.
We saw each other at the drive-in, the bowling alley, the pizza place. Always in a group, always with Sally or Sean or both. But then, he never brought around other girls, and at the end of the night, I always seemed to end up with his jacket.
Now that I’ve finished cutting out the front of the dress, I scoot my sewing to the side and rest back on my pillow. I close my eyes and conjure up the jacket. It smelled like him, and the crackled leather rustled slightly when I moved. I could cry now to think that I gave it away to a thrift store in a fit of pique right after he left.
After I graduated, Robert asked me out properly. I was already a goner by then, and our first real kiss nearly made me swoon, just like in my favorite romance novels.
I didn’t mean to insult Anna by telling her she’s never known love like that. I just don’t see how she possibly could. She was always so very serious, even when she was with Will Becker in high school, insisting they break up because they couldn’t possibly maintain a long distance relationship, with him at Michigan Tech way up in the frozen north and Anna at University of Michigan. I tried to talk her out of it then, to give Will a chance, because he looked so utterly wrecked when he left here that day. Anna, on the other hand, glided down the steps after he’d gone, with her hand lightly on the railing. She simply started mopping the floor.
She probably had boyfriends in Chicago, but none that she ever told me about. I’ve never seen her giddy, not since . . .
Well, not since she was ten years old.
Another memory of Robert comes to me, of him pushing her on the swings at the park and Anna shrieking, “Higher!” Her freckles sparkled in the sun and her limbs were all akimbo, and Robert was hooting and laughing and running underneath her swing.
I shake my head, stretch, and pick up my scissors again. I’d better get busy if I want this dress done by August.
Chapter 18
Cami
W hen I see the cop come through the Nee Nance front door, the first thing I think is, he’s dead.
He asks me, “Is Mrs. Geneva present?”
So my dad’s not dead. I should be happy. Or something. “She’s resting right now, Officer. Can I help you with something?”
When I say “officer,” Anna pops out of the back office, where she’s been rummaging in papers. Her hair springs out of her head, and without her makeup in her casual clothes she looks like an
When I finally gave up, embarrassed but not all that crushed that Nick hadn’t shown up, I wandered back to Sean’s car. No one was paying any attention to American Graffiti , and in fact no one was in the car at all. Sally was passing around a flask.
Robert saw me approach first and said, “Well, look here, a fair Irish lass.”
His voice was rich in a way that set him apart from the other boys. Not deep, exactly, but warm and resonant. He had a shock of dark, dark hair, and in the faint light from the movie screen and the moon, his smile made my stomach shiver.
I looked at my shoes and rubbed my bare arms with my hands.
“Hey, you’re cold,” he said, draping his jacket around my shoulders like a cape.
“Won’t you be cold?” I asked him. I could see goose bumps on his arms where his short-sleeved shirt ended.
“Nah.” He winked at me. “Not a bit.”
He drove me home himself that night and walked me to the door, so I wouldn’t have to spend one cold moment without his jacket. He stood on the porch while I let myself in, smiling at me but doing no more than that. I was just a kid, after all.
I had to lean on the door to catch my breath.
Of course, Robert understood the effect he had on me. He was a savvy twenty-two years old by then. I was just a teenager and experience-wise barely out of puberty. And I thought I was playing it cool! I was a puddle every time I saw him.
We saw each other at the drive-in, the bowling alley, the pizza place. Always in a group, always with Sally or Sean or both. But then, he never brought around other girls, and at the end of the night, I always seemed to end up with his jacket.
Now that I’ve finished cutting out the front of the dress, I scoot my sewing to the side and rest back on my pillow. I close my eyes and conjure up the jacket. It smelled like him, and the crackled leather rustled slightly when I moved. I could cry now to think that I gave it away to a thrift store in a fit of pique right after he left.
After I graduated, Robert asked me out properly. I was already a goner by then, and our first real kiss nearly made me swoon, just like in my favorite romance novels.
I didn’t mean to insult Anna by telling her she’s never known love like that. I just don’t see how she possibly could. She was always so very serious, even when she was with Will Becker in high school, insisting they break up because they couldn’t possibly maintain a long distance relationship, with him at Michigan Tech way up in the frozen north and Anna at University of Michigan. I tried to talk her out of it then, to give Will a chance, because he looked so utterly wrecked when he left here that day. Anna, on the other hand, glided down the steps after he’d gone, with her hand lightly on the railing. She simply started mopping the floor.
She probably had boyfriends in Chicago, but none that she ever told me about. I’ve never seen her giddy, not since . . .
Well, not since she was ten years old.
Another memory of Robert comes to me, of him pushing her on the swings at the park and Anna shrieking, “Higher!” Her freckles sparkled in the sun and her limbs were all akimbo, and Robert was hooting and laughing and running underneath her swing.
I shake my head, stretch, and pick up my scissors again. I’d better get busy if I want this dress done by August.
Chapter 18
Cami
W hen I see the cop come through the Nee Nance front door, the first thing I think is, he’s dead.
He asks me, “Is Mrs. Geneva present?”
So my dad’s not dead. I should be happy. Or something. “She’s resting right now, Officer. Can I help you with something?”
When I say “officer,” Anna pops out of the back office, where she’s been rummaging in papers. Her hair springs out of her head, and without her makeup in her casual clothes she looks like an
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