The Best Week of My Life (3 page)

“You know,” she spoke at last. “If I was gonna kiss you, I’d like to do it at sunset.”

“Oh?”

Lifting her hair from her neck, she twisted it into a knot and sat it on top of her head, an oddly appealing gesture.

“Yeah. I mean, since I had the nerve to actually say it, and you didn’t run away at the suggestion, I’d like to set the scene, too.”

He suppressed a laugh. She was serious.

“Okay,” he said. “A kiss at sunset. What else?”

“Well,” she said. “It ought to mean something. Don’t you think?”

“Like what?”

She wrinkled her forehead and pursed her lips. “I’d say
love
, but that’s probably pushing it. And
like
doesn’t work either because you like me now and you’re not kissing me. Is there an in between?” She turned her head then and her hair tumbled around her face.

He swallowed.

“Carter?”

He cleared his throat and wiped his palms on his shorts. “Why don’t you let me worry about that?”

Daphne quieted.

“I mean,” he continued. “If I promise to feel
something
, then will that work?”

She nodded.

He sat up in the chair, one leg on either side. “You thirsty? I’ll get you a soda.”

She smiled, still not speaking.

“Cola okay?”

And circling her thumb to her forefinger she waved her answer.

***

I don’t know what happened. If God needed entertainment, so He picked me because I’m a good sport. Or if God thought Carter needed entertainment, so he picked me because I’m a good sport. Or if God wasn’t involved, but I was simply entertainment and forced to be a good sport. But whatever the case and since I’d been bungling things all day long, it was only fitting I end on the same note.

It started with the cola. It was warm. Okay, not the best because warm cola makes you burp. This is not lady-like, and my mom was adamantly opposed to anything not lady-like. But Carter had gone through the trouble to fetch it, so I determined to drink it.

Only the situation got worse because along with being warm, it had also been jostled around in their trunk. I found this out the hard way – by opening the can – and it erupted to high heaven, all in my face, onto my shirt, and into my lap. It also sprayed all over Carter, who immediately began wiping it off – off of him and off of me.

And we had this awkward moment because, hey, he didn’t want to step over the line in the touchy-feely department. I helped him out, using the tail of my shirt. At least, I thought I was helping him out, but apparently I wasn’t too much because his face got all funny. Then I realized he was looking at my naval.

So I said what came into my head. “You like my naval as much as my feet?”

This made him laugh. It was a dumb thing to say after all. But he said he did, that it was cute, and two compliments in one day was almost making me too full of myself. I was going to say that as well except things changed again.

The sprinklers came on.

There were these shrubs lining the pool area on the outside of the pool fence, waist high, dark green bushes with sprinkler heads sticking up in them at intervals. The sprinklers that were now spraying me and him. My shirt was sticking to me, and the weight of the water was dragging at my pants. My hair was soon dripping and plastered to my cheek.

Carter looked just as bad, or in my thinking, just as good. He stuck his arms under me and picked me up, trying to carry me away from the sprinklers. Only it didn’t work because now the pool deck was wet and slippery. He lost his footing, and yep, we both ended up in the pool.

Now, I could swim, but my ankle still hurt from the stingray, so kicking was out. I settled for a doggy paddle to the side where I clung to the ladder. Carter’s head popped up beside me. And then my life got worse.

My shorts, which were already sagging from the sprinkler water, disengaged themselves and fell away. And there was no way on the green earth I was getting out then. Even when Carter hopped onto the side and extended his hand.

“Uhm,” I said.

He stared at me, water making a distracting trail down his neck.

“I have a problem.”

“I’ll help you out,” he said. “Or is it your foot?”

I wadded up one side of my face, the sun being in my eyes. “No, not that kinda problem. I could get out just fine.”

“So?” he said.

“So my shorts are at the bottom of the pool.”

His eyes grew as large as saucers, and his mouth fell open. I gave him a crooked smile. “Then again, I could get out anyhow. Not like you haven’t already seen my underwear.”

This snapped his mouth shut hard. I actually heard the clack of his teeth.

“But maybe my parents wouldn’t like it so much.”

He sat back on his haunches. “You know,” he said. “I thought this would be the worst week ever.”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

He pushed his bangs from across his eyes. “Nothing to do, for one. No one to talk to, for another. ‘But, hey,’ I thought, ‘I’ll survive it.’”

“And now? What do you think now?”

“I think,” he said, “that you, Daphne Merrill, are the best girl ever, and I regret I never spoke to you before.”

“That’s great,” I replied. “Except I still have no pants and it’s a long way to my apartment.”

CHAPTER 3

I had a weird dream that night – weird slash good. The good part was Carter was in it holding my hand. The weird part was he turned into a zombie. Dumb, but it stuck with me, so I determined to remember it long enough to repeat it to him.

We’d had a lot of explaining to do showing up dripping wet the night before. Carter had retrieved my pants from the bottom of the pool, promising not to look at my bum while he was down there, and I had put them on before climbing out. Then I’d navigated walking on my bad ankle while holding onto my pants, quite a feat, especially with navigating the stairs. Frankly, I was exhausted at the end.

But not so much that I didn’t tell my parents what happened. They laughed, and my mom then regaled Carter with stories of other mishaps from my life. I had a knack for that kind of thing. Mom offered him a sandwich, which he took her up on, and I announced he was going shopping with us. My mom said that was nice, her typical response, and afterward, Carter excused himself and went home.

I leaned over my cereal bowl, milk dripping from my chin, thinking of all this and Carter as a zombie, and then leapt at the knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” I yelled.

Carter stared in at me. He had on khaki shorts and a white t-shirt.

“Cereal?” I asked.

He smiled. “Sure.”

I fetched him a spoon and a bowl and poked the milk his way. I then went back to my eating.

My mom emerged from the bedroom minutes later. “Oh … Hi, Carter. I thought I heard the door.” She made no remark on his eating our food, but she wouldn’t.

Mom had on her spangles – these thin metal bracelets that jingled when she walked and a billowy skirt with large red roses on it hanging upside down. It was a good look for her, though I never understood the upside-down roses.

My dad walked in. “Good morning,” he said. Dad is very loud in the morning. I’m not sure if he thinks
we
can’t hear as well at that hour or if maybe
he
can’t hear as well at that hour, but his voice boomed through the room and Carter dropped his spoon with a splat.

I laughed. “Dad, don’t scare people.”

He stared at me blankly. He honestly had no idea.

“Martha? Did you find the paper?” Dad continued.

Mom spun around, the roses on her skirt flaring out. “Of course, Howard. It’s on the coffee table.”

He blinked once, twice, then gave a grunt and retrieved it. It was right in front of him all along.

I never got the whole newspaper thing. I mean, here we were in a strange town, and yet he still felt the need to read the news. Not like we had any idea who or where it was talking about.

“Sale on lawn mowers at the feed store,” he said.

Or like we needed a lawn mower while on vacation.

“Is there?”

Mom was really good at responding without saying anything at all, a technique she’d learned from living with Dad.

“Says here the police chief is new.”

“Really?” she replied.

“Some young fella.”

I just kept chewing, but I was making faces at Carter now. He was trying not to laugh.

“They’re prosecuting a group of teens for stealing turtle eggs. Shameful.”

I actually agreed with him on that one. “How much trouble can they get in?” I asked.

Dad folded down the corner of his paper. “Doesn’t say, but I imagine they’ll be sorry.”

I took another bite, and he went back to his reading.

“What are you going to do while we’re gone today, Howard?” my mom asked.

He didn’t bother to look at her to reply. “Thought I’d take a walk and maybe a nice nap. I’ll be all rested up and ready to party when you return.”

Mom smiled at him. “Mr. Chang says we can borrow the barbeque grill. I might pick up some steaks. Carter ...” She turned to him. “You and your folks are welcome to join us.”

He’d long since emptied his bowl, but the spoon was still in his hand. He set it down. “Thanks. I’ll mention it.”

This was the first I’d heard reference to him having
folks
; he’d only mentioned his mom so far. Which made me wonder why he didn’t tell me and if he was being polite or what with that response.

Mom stood to her feet. “Well, as exciting as all this is, we’d better get going.” I knew that was our cue, so standing up I searched the room for my purse. Carter had drifted toward the door.

It was as we were leaving that I remembered the dream. Mom came out, then me, then Carter. And she sauntered toward the stairs. I hooked a hand through his arm.

“Hey,” I said. “I dreamed about you last night.”

He glanced down at me. “You did?”

I nodded.

Mom’s sandals were slapping on the metal steps. Poing-poing. Poing-poing.

“Yep,” I continued. “And you were holding my hand and everything. Problem was, you were among the living dead.”

And he lost it.

***

Kissing Daphne by the end of the week would be easy if she kept it up because Carter couldn’t remember ever laughing this much. But his reason would have to be right, because despite his overwhelming desire to kiss her, maybe gratitude for relieving his boredom wasn’t what she wanted.

No, Daphne needed something more affirming. Something that told her just how great she was, and to give her that, he’d have to lay a bit more of himself on the line. Not the most comfortable thing.

In that, they were a lot alike.

She said anything that popped in her head, giving the impression she was tough as nails, but she was actually very sensitive, hiding behind the jokes and the chatter what was actually a very tender heart, one he’d bet no one saw much of. She was simply too good at tucking it away.

He was the opposite, inclined not to talk at all, but his feeling about it was the same. He didn’t want to get hurt. He’d learned early on that people were cruel. His dad taking off and his mom acquiring a new boyfriend fairly quickly were largely responsible for that.

Yet what caused Daphne’s fear? Not her folks. They obviously loved her, and she loved them. So there had to be something else, some event or mindset that made her like she is, and that might give him the reason he needed to kiss her.

Because the more he thought on it, the more he knew this week couldn’t end until he did.

***

“Now, don’t peek until I come out.” I called through the dressing room doors.

Carter answered, “Okay.”

I rechecked my image in the mirror, adjusted the bathing suit top, and took a deep breath. Then I pushed through the double doors.

He was sitting on a stool just outside the room, his elbows propped on his knees, his hands clasped.

“Okay, you can look.”

His eyes popped open, and he tilted his head. “Too yellow.”

I had figured that, but I liked the top.

“You look like a daffodil.”

I giggled at this.

“Next,” he said. He’d taken to doing that all morning.

I reentered the dressing room, shed the yellow, and reached for the polka dots. I actually liked the polka dots, but wasn’t sure how old-fashioned they’d make me look. It took me a minute to tie, strap, and fasten myself in, then I, once again, double-checked before walking out.

This time he whistled. “That one,” he said.

“Really?”

I looked past him for my mom, but she’d wandered off.

“Hubba hubba,” he said, wriggling his eyebrows.

Which made me giggle again. “I’ll bet you didn’t know you were so good at swimsuit shopping,” I said.

He grinned. “For you, I am, because I get to look at your cute little naval and feet.”

I covered my mouth to suppress my laughter. “Carter Pruitt, you are a tease.”

“You bring it out in me.”

My face was hot at that point, so I returned to the dressing room and donned my clothes. I came out, the swimsuit wadded up in my hand, and grabbed his arm. Dutifully, he followed me, wandering through the racks until I located my mom. She was looking at shoes in the aisle.

“You done already?” she asked.

I nodded and held up the suit. “This one.”

“That’s nice,” she said. She set down the shoes held in her hand, and we crossed the store to the checkout.

Checkout took about ten minutes, the clerk being rather chatty. Then, the bag over my arm, I walked out behind Mom and in front of Carter. Mom took a deep breath outside the store. “I’m hungry,” she said. “Let’s go to the food court.”

That sounded like a good idea, so we trekked after her, entering the press of people lining up for everything from fresh baked pretzels, to pizza, to five brands of Chinese food.

Mom took a twenty from her wallet and stuck it in my hand. “You kids pick what you like, and we’ll meet over there.” She waved to the right.

With that, we separated. Carter and I went left, and she made her usual beeline for the chicken place.