If I Should Fall: The Second Book of Geshichte Falls

OTHER PEOPLE'S FAMILIES

CONCLUSION

“This is probably the nicest date I’ve ever had,” Jill Barnard told Shane, who smiled and said, “Well, we needed to talk things out.”

“Well, yeah,” Jill caught a bit of cold chocolate about to fall onto her lap.

“Sometimes all a girl wants is a really nice guy to take her out for a Dilly Bar.”

Her mouth was full of ice cream. She chewed deliberately and took in her surroundings. “And I mean, this is no mean Dairy Queen. You went top of the line. We got a fucking Brazier.”

“I almost think you’re not making fun of me.”

“I’m not,” Jill told him.

“I figure that I’ll blow you away with something snazzy when we’re together again for a while. But for early dates we should stick with something simple. Something that doesn’t say, I’m the big man—”

“Now you owe me some in the back seat!”

When Shane’s eyes flew open Jill said, “But that’s how a lot of guys think. Baby, I’m gonna take you out someplace nice. I’m gonna wine and dine you and the price is that I get to screw you. And you’re supposed to nod your head like a dumb bitch and say, ‘Okay.’”

“Was Leon like that?”

“You know he was, and we didn’t even actually go out.”

“Well, was I ever like that?”

“You were there. You know how you were.”

“But…. Well, just humor me.”

“Fine,” Jill said. “I will humor you.”

“Thank you.”

“You were always a real nice guy.”

“You’re a smart girl… woman,” Shane pushed back her hair to touch her cheek. “Person.”

“All three even,” Jill said.

Jill did not remove Shane’s hand.

“I made mistakes,” she said.

“We both made mistakes.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, and then when Jill was sure Shane Meriwether was going to lean in for a kiss, he was back to unaffectedly eating his fries, and she could still feel his fingers on her cheek.

Jill Barnard finished off the Dilly Bar. Part of her wondered if she looked like a pig in front of Shane, the other part said obviously not.

She chewed on and wondered if Cody was having a good time at the Lewises.

 

“You came on the right night!” John told Cody, throwing an arm over the younger man. “Tonight, we’re having a party!”

“Um... Boones Farm!” Abby effused.

“Only the cheapest for a night like this, honey!” Kathleen said, filling glasses.

“Russell, where’s your glass?” she demanded of her grandson. “He’s sixteen. If he’s old enough to lose his virginity, he’s old enough to drink!”

“Grandma!” Russell shouted protesting innocence though sweat beaded on the top of his head and he felt his heart do a triple thump. He and Cody had exchanged a glance for a moment. Aside from their own relationship, only Cody knew about Jason, and only his dad had heard him say he thought he was gay. What went on three blocks away with Jason Lorry was a different world from what happened at 1735 Breckinridge.

“I said if you’re old enough—not if you have!” Kathleen said, as her grandson, followed by Cody, went to get a wine glass and found out that only tumblers were clean. While he was returning, Russell was relieved to see his grandmother had taken any attention that might have fallen on him.

Kathleen motioned to Thom and said under her breath, “Who’s the hot brunette with Russell?”

“He’s Russell’s friend, Cody—who’s a third of your age—”

“You don’t have to be snide, Thomas,” his mother made a face.

“Well, you are about to be a married woman.”

“I was just thinking,” she said, “how he and Russell look like twins.”

“Here you go, Grandma.”

Kathleen poured Cody and then her grandson a healthy glass.

Thom waited until Russell was out of earshot to say, “What are you talking about?”

Kathleen shrugged. “I guess they don’t really look alike. It’s the mannerisms, the way they talk and all that. If Russell weren’t so pale and skinny, he’d look like that.”

“Next you’ll be saying if Gilead Story wasn’t Black, he’d look like Russell too—”

“Well, you know they all look alike to me—”

“Ma—! ”

“I meant teenagers.”

“Well, Cody’s no teenager.”

There was a knock on the door. Suddenly Cody screamed, “Sacred Net!” and fell on the floor. While the family looked between the door and Cody, it was John and Patti who bent to attend him, and Russell who went to answer.

“It was just a spell, Russell,” he heard his father saying from the living room. “Cody’s fine.”

“Well, don’t be rude, Russell,” Patti was saying. “Let whoever it is in.”

Russell stared vacantly in front of him, wishing he could faint too.

“Well, good evening, Russell,” he said.

“Evening,” Russell smiled nervously, and ducked his head: “Grandfather.”

 

“If I hear another word with Goth in it, I think I’ll scream,” Mark Young said in a tone that didn’t sound like screaming at all. It sounded like the mellow tone that Mark used whenever speaking.

“Well, we are in German history all year, so I guess we’re going to be on Goths for a while.”

“But who knew there were so many friggin ones? Ostrogoths, Visigoths… Actually that’s all I can remember right now.”

“I think you pretty much covered it,” Gilead said.

“Now, about the Battle of Adrianople—”

Mark held the phone away from him and suddenly let out a scream.

“What the fuck?”

“No more history! No more history! No more history!”

“Well, now you did hit me up to be my study buddy.”

“And buddy,” Mark said, “we’ve studied.”

“What about lit class?”

“We’re going to do fine in it.”

“No, I know we’re going to do fine in it,” Gilead said. “But don’t you want to do more than fine?”

“I aced the first quiz.”

“That’s just it. You aced it. But you don’t get it. You don’t love it. There’s so much to discuss, and we’re only touching the surface. Like, when Eliot writes… Mark?”

When Mark said nothing, Gilead said, “Are you listening to me?”

“You’re such a pinhead,” Mark said, laughing.

“I am not—”

“You are,” Mark said in a different, voice, still laughing so that Gilead could almost feel him shaking his head. “But it’s cool.”

Neither one of them said anything and then Mark said:

“That’s why I like you.”

“Because I’m a pinhead.”

“No. Asshole. Because you care about stuff. So, yes, cause you’re a pinhead. I’m good at stuff. I can study to get the grade but you…. You care about things. That’s why people think you and Russell are weird. And Nick Ballantine. You guys think about more than going to college of sports… or.  Whatever.”

“I’m not even going to pretend people don’t think I’m weird.”

“Good,” Mark said. “Fuck’em. People don’t think anything about me at all. I’m just there.”

“You’re one of the cool people.”

“That just means not there in the right way.”

“You did run for class president.”

“I lost. I heard people only voted for me cause I had a goatee.”

“It was a nice goatee.”

“Mom made me shave it off.”

“Win some lose some.”

“Yep.”

“Much like the Goths—”

“You better stop, Gilead Story.”

“Consider me stopped.”

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You ever…. You ever wanna do something?”

“Uh….”

“I know you’re socially awkward and everything—”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to. But like, would you ever want to hang out. Like we could… study at my place?”

“Yes,” Gilead said, because he was tired of saying no to things.

“Yes, we could do that.”

“Are you sure?” Shane asked her.

“What do you mean am I sure?” Jill almost laughed. “We went out for years before we started going out again. I’m sure in the hell sure.”

They parked under the elm on Colum Street.

Crickets never went to sleep. They were giving off tired chirrups from the dark as Jill took his hand.

“See,” she pointed to the little Escort in the driveway, “Mom’s home. You can finally meet her.”

On the porch, under the porch step, Jill pulled Shane forward and he froze.

She looked up at his fair face.

“I’m a little afraid,” he admitted.

Jill laughed softly.

“Oh, Shane,” she said, and kissed him.

Jill opened the door and they entered. The television was blaring in the sparsely appointed living room and Mrs. Barnard was passed out on the couch. A beer was making a ring on the little coffee table. Her hair was red and tired, her face seamed.

“Ma!” she said, then bawled, “MAAAA!”

“Maybe I should come back—” started Shane.

“Don’t be stupid,” Jill said.

The red haired, pink faced woman balled her fist and rubbed her eyes with them.

“Jilly, what’s going on?”

“This is Shane.”

The woman who was Cody and Jill’s mother sat up and waved.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hello, Mrs. Barnard.”

“Mrs. Barnard,” she chuckled at that and raised an eyebrow.

“But where is Mr. Barnard?” she asked no one in particular

“Jilly, where the fuck are my cigarettes?”

“Kitchen. Top of the fridge.”

“Why are they there?”

“Cause that’s where you put ‘em.”

Mrs. Barnard looked around and then said, “Oh,” and with no malignancy, Jill remarked, “absent minded bitch.”

Her mother got up, and when she came back into the living room, she was puffing smoke.

“You’re a cute boy, Shane. I hope you can keep up with my Jilly here. She’s a hell of a handful.”

“That she is,” Shane agreed, politically, and Jill leaned into him. “And she’s a very beautiful handful.”

Mrs. Barnard coughed, gagged and spat in the trash can.

“She gets it from me.”

“Doubtless,” Shane said, eyebrow raised, and Jill’s mother raised her head and cackled. Shane tried on a smile.

When Jill was walking him out to the porch, her mother commented. “Um... you’re one of those guys who looks as nice walking away as he does coming.”

When Shane turned scarlet, Jill told him, “Well, you always said you wanted people to say you had a nice ass.”

“Not your mom.”

“You never specified,” Jill reminded him, “and at least now we’ve gotten through that ordeal.”

“I guess it’s good for every guy to meet his future mother-in-law early on in the game.”

“Excuse me?”

“You want a cigarette?”

Jill continued to look at him while Shane smiled innocently.

“Yeah,” she said, at last. “I do.”