Chapter 10
My graduation was anticlimactic. A hundred of us stood in the late spring Arizona heat in caps, gowns, and whatever we had underneath. Jack and I had both been browbeaten by our parents into wearing Dockers and polos, but I knew that Ty was wearing a hideous orange suit, and Rob Morton was wearing ridiculous surfer trunks and Birkenstocks. Amber from paintball told us a rumor that one of the girls was wearing nothing at all, but I was pretty sure that was bullshit.
One moment, we were listening to our valedictorian drone on about some hackneyed Dr. Seuss nonsense, and the next we were filing along onto the stage that had been erected on the football field, shaking hands with administrators we had never met before and smiling into the crowd for the obligatory picture by parents. Inside an hour and a half, the whole thing was done and we were picking up our diplomas from a table staffed by a pair of harried math teachers.
It hardly felt like the biggest day of my life so far--just a crowded ceremony. Besides, even though Jack and I kept trading smirk-and-gesture inside jokes across the row, I couldn't keep my mind off Cary. I had seen her arrive and sit in the crowd with her kids. She waved at me and Jack enthusiastically, but I couldn't tell if she was as keyed up as I was.
Of course, she was dressed nicely in a blouse and skirt. I couldn't help sneaking a glance towards the plunging V-neck of the buttoned blouse. Her kids both looked completely bored, but waved at Jack and I when they saw us. Cary herself immediately came over to congratulate us amongst our flood of family and friends.
Naturally, my parents and Jack's parents were there, along with Liss, Jack's older brothers, my grandma Baker who had flown all the way out from Kentucky, and various Boy Scout and bluegrass friends. Amber was nearby getting congratulated by her family and friends, including Cameron, who gave me and Cary a cool but not unfriendly nod and Jack a big thumbs-up.
"Matt, Jack! Congratulations!" Cary was effusive, but seemed a little nervous. She hugged each of us, although I noticed that her hug to me lasted just a fraction of a second longer. When she noticed, she pulled away quickly as if embarrassed. I asked if she was coming to our graduation parties, and she excitedly nodded.
And suddenly it was over. High school was finished. To avoid overlap, Jack had arranged for his party to be right after graduation, while mine was in the early evening. Ty, our bluegrass bassist, had invited me to his fancy James Bond-themed shindig in the later evening and for the rest of the night. I had a day full of parties--which seemed both exciting and exhausting to contemplate. Still, it would be with all of my favorite people, and each one would be different.
I got into Dad's cranberry-colored Saturn SL, smashed beside Liss. Mom and Dad congratulated me again, and we all talked as a family for a bit as we drove to Jack's house. My parents had known Jack and his family since we had moved here from Racine in 1985, so both families were pretty close. While Jack and his older brothers set up the grill out back and some outdoor games, my parents commiserated with Jack's parents about the cost of college for two kids at once, kids leaving home, and all the usual sort of stuff. Cary made an attempt to chat with them, but soon looked bored, and came to talk with me and Liss.
"So, ASU for certain," Cary said--somewhere between a question and a statement.
I nodded. "Majoring in English Lit with a minor in history. Or maybe music. Maybe double minors."
Lissa smiled. "Really dedicated to throwing that scholarship money into the blender."
"A double major in lit and history wouldn't be so bad," I protested.
Cary tilted her head and looked at me. "I think it's perfect," she said. "Just don't give up on your music--you're so good at it!"
Liss snorted. "Total artist attitude." She rolled her eyes but smiled to take some of the edge off her words. "I guess it's working out for you though, huh Mrs. Woodley?"
"Bernham," Cary corrected. "I'm almost through with my divorce. But yes, it's working out well. The studio is thriving, and I sell enough pieces to keep the lights on at home and keep my kids fed, clothed, and happy."
"That's awesome," Liss replied without sarcasm. "It's so great to see a woman advocating for herself and making it work."
"Cary is one-of-a-kind," I said earnestly.
Both Liss and Cary gave me a long look, but Jack was already waving us out onto the porch for games and barbecue, so I ignored it. Jack's oldest brother was a chef and loved grilling. The food was absolutely fantastic, and soon we all started talking excitedly about the mountain man Rendezvous in Colorado in June. Jack had bought a canvas tent in 1850's style and was super excited about trying it out.
We were all planning on staying in the New Mexico Territory Encampment. I had picked up a tent of buff canvas last year that was a bit too warm, so I was all set. Cary, being newer to things, still just had a rip-stop nylon tent that we both gave her shit for. I had already started working on my packing list for the event. A Rendezvous was more than just a camping trip in funny clothing--it was a chance to live the experience of an early 19
th
century fur trapper or explorer and show off to other like-minded folks.
Jenna showed up after about half an hour to paste herself to Jack's side, and to remind him that her party was going to be this evening--meaning that Jack would need to leave my party after the first hour. It didn't bother me--we were going to see each other for the rest of the day already. And I hardly had a monopoly on my best friend's time.
Jack's brothers liked Jenna and talked with her a bit, but they thought Cary was amazing, and kept asking how such a cool lady ended up hanging out with their dork Eagle Scout brother. His parents--like mine--had long since gotten used to the idea, and didn't treat it as unusual at all. Liss talked with all of us like a big, extended family, but I caught her occasionally glancing towards Cary for longer than was normal.
Throughout steaks and bratwurst, stories to family and friends about each other, and the various games--everything from lawn darts to Street Fighter II on the SNES to Hooverball (volleyball but with an 8-pound medicine ball)--I also occasionally caught Cary sneaking questioning glances towards me. My parents and Liss had already left to set up my party.
As things entered their wind-down phase, and we all started to move towards our own cars, I caught Cary. "Everything all right?" I asked. "You keep looking at me."
She froze like a deer in the headlights, and looked nervous. "Well, yeah. Except... I mean--"
Feeling like I had just touched a live wire and was electric all over, I fought down an excited tremor in my voice. "Don't worry about it. We can talk about it at my party. You're still coming, right?"
"Of course!" her reply was instant and emphatic.
"See you there, then," I answered, and hopped in my car to leave. I had hoped she still wanted to talk about things, but I wasn't certain until just now.
My party wasn't that different from Jack's, except that it was at my house, and instead of Super Nintendo, we had Sega Genesis. Having coordinated with Jack ahead of time, we arranged for pizzas instead of grilled steak and bratwurst. My band came to hang out and play a bit--except for Ty, who was busy with his own party setup. Sascha came, as well. Of course I had invited her, but she was such a wild card I never knew what she had going.
My firefighter uncle surprised me by showing up--he had flown out from Irvine. He and my parents absolutely stunned me by going in together to get me a replica Lancaster "Kentucky" rifle as a graduation present. I showed it around, to the envy of Jack and Cary (and the mild interest of the rest of my friends who acknowledged but did not share my passion for early 19
th
century American history).
My uncle and I shot the breeze for a bit while he jokingly tried to talk up the benefits of working for a fire department. It sounded like a lot of anxiety mixed with boredom to me, but it stuck in the back of my mind. He disappeared for a bit, and I busied myself talking to the rest of my friends and family as we scarfed down pizza, played darts, switched out various musical instruments to fool around on, and even got in a few rounds of light sparring out back with Jack and Cary. Cary looked curiously guarded.
"Um... everything all right?" I asked.
"Just jumpy," she admitted. "I got a call from Eric when I stopped by the apartment to pick up your graduation card, and it's made me tense. He sounded pretty rough. I can tell when he's been drinking, and he said some uncomfortable things." She flushed. "A-and your uncle was hitting on me a little while back. He was a perfect gentleman when I told him--when I said thank you, but no."
"Jesus." I rolled my eyes. "Classic Uncle Liam. Sorry about that. I should have warned you that he's kind of a skirt-chaser. It's like he can spot a hand without a wedding ring from across the room. But enough of that--what's my gift?"
"You'll just have to wait and see," Cary smiled mysteriously.
"Who's this young lady?" my grandma Baker's voice floated through the ambient noise of the party.
I turned to give her a hug. "Gran, this is Cary, my best friend... along with Jack."
Cary held out a hand to my grandma, who surprised her by giving her a hug instead. Cary stiffened, but relaxed and returned the hug somewhat awkwardly. "Uh... a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Baker."
Grandma Baker back up and surveyed Cary at arms' length with a critical eye. "Hmmmm. You're a pretty one, aren't you? But not Matty's age--not quite. Got a year or two on him, don't you?"
Cary stammered. "A few, I suppose."
"Are you all mixed up in his knife-fighting foolishness?" Gran looked dangerously close to waggling a finger at me. "I've told him to be careful. Or are you part of his country band?"
"Um... the knife-fighting," Cary answered with a hesitant grin. "It's how we met. But I love his music."
"Have mercy." Grandma Baker shook her head as if Cary had just admitted to being a political dissident. "Well, kids will be kids. You keep him sensible, you hear?" Without waiting for an answer, she elbowed me. "Best friends, eh? Bet you fight extra hard trying to impress her. You know what they say about best friends of the opposite sex, kiddo. It'd drive your sister nuts if you got married before her."
I flushed, and Cary's stammering graduated to full-on mute shock. "Ha. Jeez, Gran." I didn't protest too much. Cary smiled--whether because of my comical discomfort or because of Gran's personality, I couldn't tell.
After a few moments of much more normal small talk, Grandma Baker insisted that she needed 'a proper sit-down' and left us to our devices with a wink and a wave. I turned towards Cary, nearly ready to just straight out ask what she'd thought of my grandma's suggestion, but the words caught in my throat as Cary's gaze held mine. The sound of somebody inexpertly trying to play the fiddle wafted over towards us in the early evening light. I was saved from my indecision by the arrival of Sascha and Liss. I nodded at Liss, glad to have something to distract me. "Gran's spreading the old Kentucky Baker charm around. Oh, and can you tell Uncle Fucks-a-lot to lay off my best friend here?"
Liss nodded, all business. "You got it, Shrimp. But first, this is
the
Sascha, your witchy laser-tag ballroom dance friend, right? You haven't introduced us."
I colored a little, and nodded. "Sascha, this is my big sister Liss. Or Melissa if you want to make her feel like she's in trouble. Liss, this is Sascha, my witchy laser-tag ballroom dance violin player cryptid enthusiast friend. She's always up for something out of the ordinary."
Sascha beamed. "I love that summary. I need to keep adding things to the list now."
"Thanks for coming," I grinned. "You never told me if
you
were having a party. Am I just not invited for being too normal?"
She flicked the tip of my nose with a pointed, lacquered fingernail. "You are one of the
least
normal of my friends, Baker," she smirked. "And don't forget it. But no, after my older sister's graduation blowout, I think my parents were happy enough to have me just bounce back and forth between my friends' parties." She tilted her head, listening. "What is being done to that poor violin over there?"
"Randy has been sharing his fiddle around. Go show them how it's done," I suggested.
