Forgive Me (21 page)

Hmmm. The problem with that is if Mom was still alive she would be pressuring me daily to find a nice accountant to marry. Her comments about the dangers of rodeo would be endless, and I might actually crumble under the pressure.

“What did they say when you told them you were going to marry Michelle?”

“They told me to make sure I treat her the way I’d want my sister to be treated.” I sigh, digesting the statement, and take another pickle from the basket.

“Is this about Brian Matlin?” Sean asks, completely confused.

“No.”
I wish.

We went to the rodeo every Saturday night and it was just enough to get Jason through the week. He helped with the gates and the livestock and was behind the scenes most of the time. I took wine or beer and watched from the stands. Without Jason in the arena, I relished the excitement of each event. It became less foreign and I actually started to enjoy it. Every week I would sit in the same place and came to know the people around me. The box seats have been in the same families for generations. It is a community like no other, but strong and welcoming nonetheless.

For the most part, I was alone. Jenn and Margo made good on their promises not to come home for the summer. I couldn’t convince any of the Rutgers girls to come to the rodeo, and Noble used the long days of summer to farm with his father. He and Sam came with me to the rodeo one weekend and Jason’s eyes were on me the entire night. He never said a word, but it was hard to enjoy it, especially remembering Jason’s drug-induced thoughts on Noble being in love with me.

I didn’t have my friends; I didn’t have the ocean all summer. I wanted my mom. I wanted my dad. I wanted my friends. When I was alone the silence of their voices screamed at me. Pictures taken at the shore house Margo, Jenn, and I had rented after graduation still decorate the bulletin board in my room, and I looked from them to the mirror not believing I was capable of smiling the same way again.

I tried to convince Jason to go to the shore, but he wanted no part of it. Our only trip last summer had been a disaster. This was what it would be like if I had gone to Oklahoma like we planned. And this is what it will be like next summer and for God knows how long after that.

I had Jason, though. I had him to myself, in my bed. I had him every single day of the summer at least once. I wondered how I would ever return to Rutgers and leave him in Oklahoma. For all the things that were missing this summer, I overflowed with him and I couldn’t keep myself from smiling. Confirming once again that he is what makes me happier than anything else on this Earth.

I
press “done” on the computer, signifying the completion of my last final exam for the summer, and sit back in my chair stretching. This is the last weekend before we make the trip to Oklahoma. Jason starts school in a week, two weeks before I do. My phone dings with a text from Julia:

I start to write back no, but stop. Why can’t I? Jason’s getting around fine on his own and he’ll be entertained at the rodeo. As the thought sinks in, my excitement grows and I can think of nothing else but a weekend at the Jersey Shore.

Jason is at physical therapy for the next hour so I go to the next town over and get a pedicure. Instead of my usual OPI, “I’m Really Not a Waitress,” I opt for the pretty pink color, “The Lifeguard Makes Me Blush” in honor of my upcoming weekend. I stop and pick up the latest issue of
Vanity Fair
which reminds me I’m white as a ghost and need sunscreen. I grab self-tanner too. When I return home Jason is grilling chicken on the back deck.

“Hey,” I say as I watch him turn the chicken breasts.

“I was starting to worry,” he says, looking over his shoulder for a minute.

“Why didn’t you call?”
Silly question.
I walk over and kiss his cheek and the heat off the grill hits me. Or maybe it’s the heat off Jason Leer. “Like my toes?” I ask, flashing him my pedicure.

“In my mouth,” he says, and I blush. “Yes, I like the pink.”

“I’m going to the shore this weekend with my roommates.” Jason stops moving the chicken around and stays still. “Julia texted me this morning. It’s an unofficial RU Weekend at the North Jersey beaches.”

“Are you inviting me?” he asks, finally turning toward me.

Do you go to Rutgers?

“No,” I say, and wrap my arms around his waist. “You don’t want to go to the shore. If you did you’d have taken me before now. You just want to go to keep an eye on me and that’s not necessary.” These are all great points.

“It would bother you if I went to some reunion and didn’t invite you.”
You do it every Saturday night
, I think but don’t say a word. “You’re not speaking?” he asks.

“I wasn’t asking permission. I was telling you as a courtesy. I’m not looking to turn a fun, relaxing weekend with my friends into an argument. I haven’t seen them in months. After next May I’ll be lucky if I see them once a year.” I walk into the house unwilling or unable to finish what I just started. I text Julia:

And she responds:

I pull some dresses out as possible items to take. I haven’t been anywhere since Jason got hurt. I can’t remember the last time I cared what I put on. Just picking out an outfit is exciting. I find my camo mini skirt and hang it with a black tank top, and a long black sleeveless maxi with no real back to it. It hangs awkwardly on the hanger, unsure of how to rest. From the back of my closet I pull out silver strappy wedges that’ve been forgotten since last summer. This is going to be fun if it kills us.

“I’m sorry.” His words break my concentration and shock me. I look up and he appears to be genuinely calm. “I don’t care if you go.” I look at him, annoyed. “I know you don’t need my permission. Look, I’m spoiled. I haven’t had to share you with another person all summer. It just took me a few minutes to get used to the idea,” Jason says, and I warm to his sweet words. The camo mini catches his eyes and his face turns to stone.

“What is that?”

“It’s a skirt.”

“For a child?”

“For me. Don’t worry. I’ll wear underwear.”

“Why can’t you just wear what you wear to the rodeo every Saturday?”

“Because I’m not going to the rodeo,” I say, and the excitement in my voice surprises even me. If Jason is hurt by my statement he doesn’t let it show. He walks over to the black dress and tries to make sense of it.

“Where did you even get this?”

“Just because I don’t buy my clothes at Tractor Supply does not make them inferior.”

“Well, this one’s missing the back. It is the back it’s missing, right?” I hang the dress back in my closet and pull out my white jeans and a raspberry colored tube top. I keep the silver wedges out. “Much better,” Jason says, and rolls his eyes.

I stop in Moorestown and collect Violet on my way to North Jersey. Her presence heightens the escapism surrounding my weekend. The excitement in the car builds with every mile marker we pass.

“Nice car, Charlotte. When did you get this?” Violet looks around my new Volvo SUV as if she’s shopping herself.

“My brother got it for me. I had to talk him down from a Hummer, a tank, and one of those Ducks that can drive on land and in water. He’s apparently quite invested in me living.”

“I can’t blame him. You guys have been through a lot. I think this is a nice compromise. Are you going to bring it to Rutgers?”

“I doubt it. I’m going to Oklahoma with Jason first. I’ll probably fly right to Newark.”

“I cannot believe you guys have made it this long,” she says, and my head jerks toward her, shocked. The idea of us not making it is not one I speak of nonchalantly. “What? Have you not noticed you two were not exactly meant to be together? Not to mention it’s hard to keep something going over a long distance.” I shake my head confidently and she adds, “Out of sight, out of mind.”

I completely dismiss Violet and by the time we walk onto the beach I can’t even remember what we talked about in the car. I set my chair facing the sun, dig my toes into the sand and listen as the sound of the waves hitting the beach fills me with the healing energy of the shore. It transforms me, but from and to what, I’m not sure. I am utterly in love with the Jersey Shore. I could sit here all day by myself, but the addition of the RU girls makes it therapeutic.
I needed this.

We linger on the beach until most of the crowd has left and around 6:30 head back to Julia’s cramped house. I lay my backpack down on the floor and sit on top of it. The small couch and chair are already full of too many people. It strikes me that I am technically a millionaire, but apparently living in squalor this weekend. I pull out my phone and text Jason.

I look into a cramped bedroom with a twin bed and an air mattress taking up the entire floor. There are clothes everywhere and not one pillow.

I put my phone away and head to the outside shower, knowing the line will be shorter than inside. It’s a hot night and I’m thrilled I have my little camo skirt to keep me cool, even if my boyfriend is not. The logistics of Julia’s house leave little room for primping so I throw some lip gloss in my bag and call myself “ready.”

We take a cab to the Parker House in Sea Girt and find tons of people from Rutgers. Julia has, as usual, done an excellent job of spreading the word. My smile, a permanent fixture since I exited the highway, is the evidence of how much I’ve missed everyone, of how much I’ve missed the shore. At least half of ZTA is here and it’s absolutely restorative to catch up with everyone.

I walk inside to the bathroom and see Noble talking to a girl I don’t recognize. She’s practically drooling. I keep moving, not wanting to interrupt. When I return to the back deck Julia, Violet, and Sydney are surrounded by a bunch of guys I’ve never seen before.

“Here’s our little weather girl,” she says, displaying me to our new friends.

“How many times do I have to tell you, it’s meteorologist?” I say, not missing a beat. I guess it’s weather girl night again. Sydney chimes in with my fake name and city, which she has, of course, already researched knowing these guys will Google me instantly. A sweet-looking girl with long blonde hair and green eyes pops up in front of a weather map and I smile at them. Tonight, Julia has promoted herself to my producer. It’s fitting since she’s a communications major. What’s wrong with being a statistician?
It’s sexy, right?

“Is it going to be sunny tomorrow?” Noble asks in my ear and I turn to give him a big hug.

“You’re smart to ask an expert,” I say, and look behind him for the girl. “Where’s your friend? Is she the one?”

“She is the one. The one for the next few hours. I’ll introduce you when she comes back.”

“Noble Sinclair, it’s time for you to fall in love.”

“Charlotte, I do love her. I love everything about her. It’s just tomorrow I might love someone else.” I roll my eyes and shake my head. He pulls me toward him as a bar back carries a bin full of ice behind me. The girls engulf us and smother Noble with their North Jersey kisses. The rest of ZTA notices and his former conquests come over to say hello. He has a rare gift for remaining friends with everyone he’s ever been with. He told me once it’s because he’s very clear on the expectations from the very beginning. Must be his cloudless vision.

We drink more at the Parker House than I have the entire summer combined and spill into a cab to Bar-A. Here, there are several deejays. A dark dance floor inside is highlighted by glow sticks and necklaces as the throbbing beat of the music bounces off the walls. We spread out and I’m happy to be outside for the rest of the night. The crowd is a little more Jersey, but everyone’s in a great mood. It’s impossible not to be on this perfect summer night. Outside, there’s another deejay, plus fire breathers, palm trees, and my favorite, a mechanical bull. Bull riding’s a party game up here, down south it’s a sport. I wonder what my cowboy is up to tonight.

It’s 1:53 a.m. when the lights come on and people begin filing out of the bar. No more liquor. No more music. No reason to stay. I have Julia with me, but everyone else I know was lost a long time ago. Julia and I exit the bar and see the ice cream truck at the end of the parking lot. Not many cars are moving. Rather than scoring a guaranteed DUI, most will leave their car until tomorrow.

“Come on, Charlotte. I’ll buy you an ice cream,” Julia says.

“Aw. You do love me.”

“I do.”

We scan the pictures of ice cream treats decorating the side of the truck and look up to order as Wes sticks his head out of the truck.

“Wes! What are you doing here?” I say, completely forgetting about my Chipwich.

“It’s my summer job. I drive an ice cream truck.” I burst out laughing. It’s fantastic.

“I’ve never known a real life ice cream man,” I say, and can’t help but smile.

“You guys going home, or do you want to hang out?” I can tell by Wes’s face “hang out” means smoke and I know I should probably just go home.

“We’re in,” Julia says, and climbs in the back of the truck, leaving me standing in front of the window.

“Let’s get out of here. The stragglers never buy. They can’t find their money,” he says, and climbs into the driver’s seat. Julia and I stand up in the back and search the freezers for Chipwiches. Wes stops short and we fall to the front. My brother would kill me for this one.

Wes pulls into a side alley, next to a small bungalow on the beach.

“It costs me $800 more for the summer to be able to park the truck.” I look back at the truck and marvel at the business expense.

Inside we find an empty house and I’m in awe. There’s a small kitchen that’s open to the living room, a bedroom on each side and one bathroom. And it’s empty. Julia’s house probably has at least ten people littering the floor by now.

“Want a beer?” Wes offers and really, what’s one more?

“Sure. How many people are renting this with you?”

“There are three of us, but about ten are here this weekend. They’ll be back soon,” Wes says, and hands me a beer and lights a bowl. I smoke it and pass it to Julia whose eyes are already half-closed.

“Are you sure you want to smoke?” I ask, and she opens one eye to combat my ridiculous notion. Wes turns on music and reggae fills the room with a sweet kindness as Noble walks in.

“Hey girls! How’s the weather, Charlotte?” he practically yells, and I realize he’s drunk.

“It’s still beautiful,” I say as he sits down next to me. I hear my text dinging.

I send without a care in the world.

“Where’s your girl?” I turn my attention back to Noble.

“I just walked her home.”

“That’s nice,” I say, and study at the look on his face. There is so much more to the story he’s not going to share. I suspect if it were just Wes here he would get an earful. The girl’s probably a complete freak in bed. I’ll bet he has bite marks all over him.

“Are you crashing here?” he says, and breaks my concentration.

“I…” I look at Julia, completely passed out on the couch next to me. “I guess so.”

“You can sleep in my room if you want.” He raises his hands in the air. “Like brother and sister, I promise,” he says. He could be in a coma and I’m sure Jason would want me nowhere near that room,
which
is not unreasonable because I don’t really want him sleeping with anyone else, either. Even if it is just sleep. “This place is going to fill up quick,” Noble adds, and stumbles into his room.

I sit on the floor, my head resting on the couch next to Julia’s, and close my worn eyes. The weight of my entire body rests in my eyelids and floats away as I allow them to close. Sleep will find me here, sitting up on the floor of Wes’s shore house.

I half open them to the sound of guys yelling. At first I think they’re outside, but I realize at least some of them are inside the house. There’s laughing, so I don’t think they’re fighting. I make sure my skirt is covering me and lay my head back down on the soft couch. An enormous being falls on me and scrapes against my neck. I cover my head with my hands and look over to see Wes rolling on the ground next to me.