The Lunacy Fringe

Ten

My dad picked me up again after school and then dropped me off at home. He still had work to do at the shop he was taking over, so he said he'd be home by dinner and then drove away. I would have talked about it in the car, but he was busy, and his mind was obviously on all the work he had to do. I didn't want him to make an excuse to leave the conversation. Crystal was right about that.

So I spent some time organizing my room. I couldn't seem to get it right. Nothing felt like home, no matter where I placed things or how I set them up.

When my dad finally got home, it was already late, but he brought dinner. So we sat at the kitchen table, looking out over the backyard. He handed me a plate and asked the question I'd been waiting for.

"How was your day, Kid?"

"Fine," I replied. I set my plate down and looked out of the window. The sun was setting, and the door was open with the screen shut. So I could hear the frogs starting their songs out in the yard.

"Doesn't sound like it."

"I kind of—I know we moved here to be closer to Quinn and everything, but—why exactly did we leave in the first place?" He studied me for a second before setting his fork down. He clearly understood that I needed to ask some questions.

"Your mom and I—we'd intended to get back together once she finished school. I dropped out so I could support you guys. I was struggling on my own. But her parents, your grandparents, were dead set on keeping us apart. Your grandpa is the one who found me the job in Detroit. I knew he was only helping so that he could get me away from his daughter, but I thought if I moved and then saved up enough money, Crystal and Quinn could follow us out."

"Why didn't they?" He sighed heavily.

"We got into a fight. She didn't want us to go. Some hurtful things were said. And I mistakenly thought it was something we could work out over time. But once we got settled in Detroit, I couldn't get any calls through. My letters kept getting sent back. I even had some of my friends go by the old butcher shop your grandpa worked at, but—they were gone. I had no way to find them."

"Did you ever give up?"

"Of course not. But there was only so much I could do from so far away. And when Crystal contacted me out of the blue last summer, I decided enough was enough. Detroit was a mistake. I had some of my happiest memories there. Raised you there. But—I should have stuck it out here. Even though I was having a hard time. We had a home. I could have found another job. Could have been there for my son."

"Would you have married Crystal if things had been different?" He hesitated.

"I would have married her in a heartbeat." I pinched my lips shut and then glanced at the window again. The frogs were getting louder. It was noisier than Detroit. But more peaceful.

"I want to be angry," I admitted. "I am—at Crystal mostly. But I feel like it isn't justified. I know it was just a misunderstanding, but I feel like...."

"You were robbed."

"Yeah."

"I get that. And it's okay to be angry. I won't ask you not to be. Even if you're angry at me."

"I'm not—I mean—I'm angry that it took you so long to tell me we were moving. I wish I'd had more time to say goodbye."

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't expect you to accept my apology, but I really do mean it. I should have told you sooner, and I regret it. I knew I would. And you have every right to be upset."

"I met her today."

"How?"

"Quinn and I ditched class to meet her. She told me about dinner this weekend." He nodded slowly. "And I met my sister. And my step-father. And here—Quinn gave me something."

I reached for my history book, which I'd left on the table when I got home. I took out the pictures Quinn gave me and handed the one of him and Crystal over. He took it with a faint smile on his lips.

"I remember that day," he said. "Took her out to this field to watch the sunset. That was the day I realized I was falling in love." I had a feeling he'd never fallen out of it.

"I have one of Quinn and me too." I handed the other one over, and his smile grew.

"Haven't seen this one in years. This was taken right out on the porch before we sold the grove."

"I figured."

"Why don't we have very many pictures of him?"

"We used to. I had tons. But they burned up that time you set the kitchen on fire." I almost laughed. My dad loved to tell people the story of me setting the kitchen on fire. It became a running joke. I just didn't realize I'd burned up all his pictures of Quinn.

"Well—now we can take more of them." He set them back down.

"Sounds like a plan."

"He asked if he could come over tomorrow. Or on Friday," I said.

"I'd love to see him anytime. He doesn't have to ask."

I scooped up the pictures after dinner and took them to my room. My window was open, and the frogs were loud up there. The air felt cool and humid. I set the pictures on the shelf above my desk. Where I used to put all my photos of my friends. They were still there, but now I had Quinn and my parents too. Then my room felt just a little more complete.

The day had been hot enough to make my room stuffy, so I'd opened the window. But the nights got cold. The chill clung to all the moisture in the air and made my room freezing by midnight. But, at that moment, it was welcoming after a warm day.

I went to the window to pull it down just because I knew I'd never get to sleep with it open. The yard was empty, but I got a clear shot into the yard next door. Some dogs were sniffing around, and someone followed them out. I recognized him instantly. Only because the sight of him running his hands through his thick black hair made my heart jump into my throat.

So I went downstairs to see what the heck he was doing over there. The fence that divided our yards was overflowing with white jasmines. There were thick overgrown bushes. My dad said that during the autumn, gourds would grow there on their own. It was a low point in the yard where the rain and moisture would collect. It was probably where the frogs lived.

"Ruby?" I heard him ask before I could even find him through the jasmines. He was standing on the other side, black hair messy, and barefoot in the well-trimmed grass.

"Hey," I replied as I laced my fingers in the chain link. He stepped over to me. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here. I just came to get the dogs back in. They try to eat the frogs. What are you doing here?"

"I live here too. My dad owns the house. Finally decided to stop renting it out."

"Oh, right. I knew the people who lived here before. Didn't realize they were just renters."

"Yeah." I picked at a small white flower, unsure of what to say next. Felix seemed to be thinking about something.

"Hey, so—you and Quinn—seems like you're getting along well," he said. My head shot up. I looked at him with wide eyes. I could tell he was getting at just by the tone of his voice. And maybe I was hoping I was detecting something else. Jealousy. But it could have just been wishful thinking.

"Oh, it's nothing like that. Like what you're thinking. I promise," I said. He nodded slowly. His lips were parted slightly, and I hated how my eyes immediately zeroed in on his tongue. I had to look back at the jasmines before I could get caught staring.

"I was just asking because—it looked like you'd been crying." Oh—it was concern.

"I didn't think anyone noticed." He shrugged and took a step back, gazing off at the bushes. The frogs were really loud.

"Your eyes were red," he said slowly.

"Well—it wasn't anything bad. Or anything. Quinn didn't make me cry if that's what you're thinking." He took another step back and watched the dog trying to sniff me through the fence.

"Alright, well—goodnight, Ruby." He headed back toward the house and into the light shining out from the porch. The dogs trotted along after him.

I hurried back to the house. The kitchen was empty, but it was obvious my dad had just finished doing the dishes. Which meant it was very likely he'd seen me talking to Felix. He was in front of the TV when I came in, and I made it halfway up the stairs before he spoke.

"Hey, Kid?" I paused.

"Yeah?"

"Who was that boy you were talking to?"

"Oh, that's Felix. He's Quinn's friend. I didn't know he lived here."

"I see."

"Okay, well—goodnight." I hurried back up the stairs before he could say anything else.