Blow My House Down

Chapter 32

"You're Jewish?"

Cecily began to close all her books, stacking them neatly. "Well, I'm not. I mean, I am. I just don't practice. I think religion just tears people apart. But my parents are. They never really forced it on Charlie and I. They assumed we'd eventually find our way to it."

"And you didn't?" I asked.

Cecily laughed, getting off her bed and putting a jacket on. "No way. Charlie is gay as hell and an atheist to the boot. And I simply don't like religion. Who needs a higher power to feel complete?" She put her shoes. "By the way, I have to go back for Christmas. Peter and I are leaving the 20th. Do you and Micky wanna come?"

I nodded. "Of course, yeah. I'll ask Micky. I'm sure your family will be more welcoming than mine."

Cecily chuckled. "My parents will just ask why I have so many white friends. And Charlie will more than likely hit on you."

"I thought you said he was gay."

"Oh, he is! He just likes fucking with people." Cecily checked her clock. "Anyway, you're a dear for the birthday present, but I gotta go."

"Dick appointment?" I asked as she walked past me.

Cecily shook her head and opened the door, looking back at me with a mischievous grin. "Nah, baby -- pussy appointment. Remember that I Dream of Jeannie extra Davy was flirting with? Turns out she's more into girls."

"What about Peter?" I questioned, confused.

"Oh, he's sleeping with some other girl right now. Or maybe a guy." She shrugged. "I honestly can't remember. Toodles!" She blew me a kiss and pranced out the door.

I went to the kitchen and found Peter eating a bowl of cereal, reading over the newspaper. He turned a page and said, "I heard my name out there."

"Oh," I said. "Cecily said you were fucking someone else."

"Yeah," he replied, taking a big bite of cereal. "Someone on the Bewitched set. Jerry or something. It only happened once." He swallowed. "Are you coming to Connecticut with us?"

I nodded and poured myself a bowl of cereal. "I told Cecily I would. She's my best friend. There's not much I wouldn't do for her." I came over and sat across the table from him. "She said you guys want to start a record company."

Peter grinned. "Yeah, it's always been our dream. To make music about whatever we want, whenever we want. And give other people that chance. Cecily's an incredibly gifted pianist. I know you've seen her play once, but that was only the surface. She was a prodigy. It's that photographic memory of hers."

Peter's passion knew no bounds. It made me glad to know that Cecily and Peter had found kindred spirits in one another. I had never seen two friends as close as them. And they were both passionate about the same thing.

"Photographic?"

"Yeah," he said. "Cecily's essentially a genius. Did you not know? She can speak French, Hebrew, Greek, Italian. She's a wiz with languages. She also grew up around French and Hebrew, but the other two..." He let out a long whistle. "She's truly an intelligent, incredible person."

"I had no idea," I said, impressed.

Peter shrugged, then took another mouthful of cereal. "Cecily doesn't share much about herself. I think I say too much."

I pretended to zip my lips. "My lips are sealed."

The front door opened and in walked Micky, running a hand through his hair. He was effortless and walked with feet light as snow. Utterly graceful -- he could have been a ballerina in another life. Instead, this one blessed him with the voice of a thousand angels, forming one perfect note.