Know Not Why: A Novel (48 page)

“Howie!” Kristy exclaims. She bounces over with
a glass of champagne and hands it to me. “Arthur leant me his watch
so we can keep tabs on counting down to midnight!” She holds up the
watch cheerfully as evidence.

“You accosted my watch,” Arthur corrects her.
“My watch was stolen. I’m a victim of your thievery.”

Kristy doesn’t seem too troubled by his
accusations. She just giggles. “Isn’t he cute when he’s drunk?”

“I’m not
drunk
.”

“He’s not drunk,” I agree.

“Thank you,” he says, looking at me with
surprise.

“No problem, bud. I’ve got your back.” I wait
‘til said back is turned, and then I mouth to Kristy, ‘HE’S SO
DRUNK.’

She air fives me. Arthur, meanwhile, is in the
process of turning over an old packing crate, thus transforming it
into the tiniest of platforms. He climbs up onto it, which seems
pretty bold considering his current state of drunk-being, but he
does just fine.

“I would like to propose a toast,” he says –
pretty grandly, current setting considered. He lifts his glass. “To
you, and you, and you.”

“And you!” Kristy tells him, waving her glass in
his direction.

“And me,” Arthur agrees, pleased by the idea. “I
would just like to say that it has been – well, occasionally very
exasperating working with you all. There’s been counter dancing.
Prohibited, by the way.” Cora smirks proudly. “And Taylor Swift on
the stereo, of which I will never be able to approve. Definitely
prohibited.” Kristy doesn’t look nearly as ashamed as she should.
“And a hatred of the apron that you have not disguised nearly as
well as you thought you did, Howie.”

“Damn it,” I mutter, grinning.

“And it has never been easy business, selling
people arts and crafts supplies. Which you wouldn’t expect, but
there you have it. It is at times a vicious and brutal profession.
One that can easily seem futile. And Holly’s is very big, and very
nice, and has much more than we do, and sells said much more for
much cheaper. And odds are, Artie Kraft’s Arts ‘N Crafts shall not
prevail to see another rooftop New Year’s celebration. But we have
now, and we have champagne—”

“And sparkling cider!” (Kristy.)

“—and sparkling cider for our responsible
underage drinker, and that is very good also. And we have this
uncommonly mellow musical selection on this very crappy tapedeck
from Cora, and we have each other’s company, and some surprisingly
pleasant memories, and the future. We’ve done what needed doing in
order to make us wind up here. And all in all, I would deem that a
very good year.”

He catches my eye at the end there, and I smile
big at him as the three of us provide an enthusiastic round of
applause and whooping for our fearless leader. Arthur bows, then
stumbles his way off the box and back next to me.

“One minute to go!” Kristy announces, looking at
the stolen watch.

“Good,” I say, out of habit more than anything.
“It’s fucking freezing out here.”

“Oh, shut up, Jenkins,” Cora says. “In no way is
this not the ballin’-est New Year’s you’ve ever had. We’re on the
roof,
motherfucker.”

“He doesn’t mean it,” Kristy says. “When he
complains, it’s just code for how much he loooves us.”

“You must love us a lot,” Cora says
affectionately, pinching my earlobe. It brings back fondish
memories of her trying to bite it off. “You whiny little
punk-ass.”

“You caught me,” I say, holding my hands up
surrender-style. “I love you.”

Kristy and Cora both make cooing noises,
Kristy’s sincere, Cora’s not so much. (Or at least, I don’t think
they are. But after finding out her favorite book’s
A Little
Princess,
who really knows?) Arthur’s standing a little ways
behind them. There’s a smile playing on his mouth. He’s looking at
me with really serene focus, like maybe in Arthur land, it’s a
pretty sweet deal, this business of looking at me. I feel my mouth
curving up as I look back at him.

Somehow, the cooing from the girls escalates
real suddenly into a group hug. Kristy loops her arms around my
shoulders. Cora’s hands wander a little bit lower, naughty vixen
that she is, before I swat them back up.

“Check it out, man,” I say to Arthur over Kristy
and Cora’s heads. “
Two
fine ladies, all over me. You should
probably be a little worried right now.”

“I don’t know,” Arthur replies cheerfully. “I’d
say I’m fairly confident in your regard for me.”

“Get over here, Krafty,” Cora calls, muffled,
into my chest.

“I may be a little tipsy,” Arthur says. “I will
concede to that. But I just don’t think I’m drunk enough to
justify—”

Cora momentarily extracts herself from the
cuddle orgy to grab Arthur’s arm and drag him over to us. He lands
with an awkward ‘oof’ on the other side of Kristy and Cora, and we
are transformed into a cozy, gangly bundle of humans.

“This is very weird,” he declares.

“I know,” Cora rhapsodizes. “It’s great, isn’t
it?”

“You guys are the best friends,” Kristy sighs,
her words dimmed a little bit by the fact that they’re said right
into my shoulder. She snuggles happily against me. I bring a hand
up to pat her on the head. Maybe my heart performs an action that
is eerily akin to melting. Fortunately, I am way too manly to ever
‘fess up to that fact.

Just between you and me: sure, there’s melting.
I’m so happy that I got this stupid job that I want to, I dunno,
perform a merry tap dance. Scream it out to the whole sky.

“Oh!” Kristy pulls back abruptly. “It must be
almost time!” She hurries over to grab Arthur’s watch off of the
blanket. “Oh my gosh, you guys, ten seconds!”

“Ten seconds,” Arthur repeats under his breath,
singing the words a little.

“Get ready, get ready!” Kristy squeaks.

“You do realize that we’re going to have to get
snoggy with it,” Cora says to Kristy. “Since there is no way we’re
prying those two off of each other.”

“Ladies, ladies,” I say, “there’s plenty of
Howie to go around.”

“Not really,” Arthur replies. “I intend to keep
you shamelessly to myself.”

Well, it’s not like I’m gonna argue with
that.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Kristy muses.
“Katy Perry made it sound kind of fun!”

“Don’t worry,” Cora says, “I’ll be a
gentleman.”

“You know,” I say, “this isn’t the first
lady-kissing debacle I’ve borne witness to tonight. My life! So
tawdry. So excellent.”

Arthur shakes his head.

There’s old music in the air, the kind of stuff
my dad liked to listen to, and Kristy and Cora’s voices ringing out
“
five … four … three …”
in sloppy unison; the sky is big and
black and full of stars, waiting for fireworks, and the air is
sharp and cold. Arthur is smiling, humming absently along to the
song. He looks calm, and happy.
“Two,”
Kristy chants, and
Cora takes a swig of champagne right from the bottle, and Kristy
squeals and laughs loud. Fuck waiting, I decide. Vastly overrated,
I decide. I put my cold hands on Arthur’s cold face and I kiss him.
I catch him by surprise a little; he mumbles a messy version of my
name and laughs before he settles into the kiss.
“One!
”
Kristy and Cora yell together, and Arthur curls his fingers against
the back of my neck, bringing me in close, and then it’s midnight.
Just like that, everything’s new.

The End

(Which is to say: The Beginning)