X. Holding Out For A Hero
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than lifeSomewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere just beyond my reach
There's someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder end rising with the heat
It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet
Up where the mountains meet the heavens above
Out where the lightning splits the sea
I would swear that there's someone somewhere
Watching me
Through the wind end the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood
I can feel his approach
Like the fire in my blood
Holding Out For A Hero is the property of Bonnie Tyler, and appears in the film
When he first came here, he was surprised they weren't alphabetical. He thought, for some reason, there would be some order, an easier way to find her. Instead, she's located in the back. Donald McCallister, Gary Limon, Todd Zuchinich, Julia Jeremiah. The white rocks placed in front of her gravestone glimmer in the dusk, grass blowing under the pinkish-orange sky. His car keys jangle as he moves through the yard.
The setting sun shines on Joey's bald head, Angie carrying a bouquet of yellow roses, as they follow Craig. Angie always brought yellow flowers, but Craig's been here more than her. If he's been there more than Joey, that's not a surety. The first early-bird lightning bugs fly near her name. It makes since, given that the graveyard's near the woods. Craig believes Julia loved that; she always did love to garden.
"Joey!" calls over Craig.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" assures Joey, guiding Angie to the spot.
Angie and Joey stand on either side of Craig, reading her name, date of birth and death. That's when it always seemed to sink in for Craig that her life was pretty short. She never lived it that way. Her motto was: what can we do today? No matter how small, she tried to do something different everyday, even if it was simply trying a new ingredient while cooking or telling him about a new, interesting thing she saw on the way home that he could photograph. While his father bought the equipment and helped arrange the darkroom, once Craig made it a serious hobby, Julia was more interested in the pictures themselves. She kept asking him questions about it, all throughout chemo. He took to hanging them up in her hospital room when she got too sick to ask. Now, she can't see them at all.
She always saw him, protected him. Despite Albert's controlling ways, she started standing up for herself and Craig. One night, the pressure hit, and so did Albert. He nearly hit Julia right in the mouth, after she announced she was leaving him for Joey. Albert might've hit Craig, if Julia didn't throw her arms around him, putting her face right in line with his fist. Her chin was hurt. Craig never forgot the look Albert had, a mix of misery and anger, running from the room. Julia won, in such a sad fight, a sad fight he wishes never took place. He can't hurt either of them anymore.
"I think my flowers are the best," says Angie, confidently, laying them against the grave.
"Me too," agrees Joey, ruffling Angie's curly dark hair.
His sister is starting to resemble Julia, especially as her face changes with growing older. People always told him they saw Julia in him, but Craig thinks Angie's going to be the spitting image of their mother once she hits her late teens. The three of them stand silently, awkwardly, until Joey speaks.
"Glad we're here," sighs Joey. "Haven't been...in nine months."
Longer for him, admits Craig to himself. It just got so hard after his father died, so the trips became less frequent. He'd been coming on her last two birthdays at least.
"I bet Mommy's bowling in heaven," guesses Angie. "She always did that on Fridays when she didn't have to take me home. Mommy never liked the shoes, though."
They all laugh, grateful for Angie's happy memory. Man, he had hoped that they'd all be sharing in one of the happiest moments he'd ever have, his high school graduation. College was no guarantee either. He got into the same school as Ellie, Marco, and Dylan, yet his heart wasn't set on that plan. In all honesty, he'd rather be doing what Ashley's doing...touring across a country, making music, not letting all his potential go down the drain. University was more an Ellie and Marco thing, but yeah, he'd go if nothing else panned out. The deposit for his dorm room was already sent, thanks to Joey's constant reminders. Knowing Ashley was continuing her education too gave him some hope he could eventually do both.
"We miss you, Mommy," says Angie, after taking a deep breath.
Joey clears his throat, Craig telling he's trying his best not to cry.
"Yeah," speaks up Craig, his eyes locked on her engraved name.
Julia Jeremiah. What he wouldn't give to have her in that seat next to Joey, dotting her eyes with a handkerchief. Unlike Joey, she'd have no shame in showing tears. He'd look at her from under his cap, be her first child to graduate, with decent marks at that. They would take the special photograph, the one where the graduate is in between his parents, Angie smiling while holding Craig's waist. It might've been the perfect portrait, the perfect family picture he had to create by imagination when he lived with Albert. Well, it's not like pictures weren't capable of being ruined.
Craig wanders to another grave, head down. He hears Angie whistling in the background, knowing she's rearranging the flowers, a task that kept her from being sad presumably. Joey goes to Craig, pats him on the back.
"She'd be so proud of you," says Joey, nodding.
"Mom got sick...like all of a sudden," remembers Craig aloud. "She was always so...full of life. Makes no sense."
"I don't think stuff like this ever does," says Joey.
"At least she had you," whispers Craig, throwing Joey a grateful smile. "I'm positive Dad wouldn't have done what you did, visited her everyday, especially because...she left him."
Joey guiltily glances at Julia's grave. Yeah, real smart, Craig, he thinks. Bring up that Joey contributed to the end of your parents' marriage. It started off as a compliment, though.
"Who can say what anyone would do...especially after the fact," shrugs Joey.
"I would've found...found a way to help her, before she got sick," stammers Craig. "She used...used to get these headaches..."
"Craig, no one could've known," interrupts Joey. "Besides, that's not where the cancer was."
"Could've been a sign," insists Craig. "No...I left her to live with Dad."
"That was your parents' decision, Craig. Albert and Julia."
"Went along with it, didn't I?" says Craig.
Joey's lips become tense as he stares at Craig sympathetically. Since he's so quiet, he has to know I'm right, reasons Craig. He very well could've stayed with Joey, Julia, and Angie, should've since Albert felt compelled to beat him whenever he wanted to. While he got beat, Julia got sick. They suffered at the same time, but his pain was far less than hers, he guesses.
"I've screwed up so much," sighs Craig. "Running away, cheating, disappointing everyone...but graduation means a new start, a new day. That's how Mom looked at things."
"Yes, she did," says Joey. "But Craig, don't be so hard on yourself. No one expects you to have a big S on your chest, leaping tall buildings, forever being a hero."
"Joey...Joey, I want to be the good guy for once," whispers Craig intensely, watching Angie blow off a bug that landed on Julia's stone.
Joey scratches his head, breathes deeply.
"It's...it's not just getting the diploma," continues Craig. "It's...getting people to think I'm more than a two-timing, spontaneous idiot who happens to play guitar."
"This is about Kate, isn't it?" asks Joey.
"No!" protests Craig. "Alright...maybe...a little. Okay, her first. And others."
"Right," mumbles Joey.
"Joey..."
"Alright!" says Joey. "I have no problem with you becoming a better man. That's what all fathers want. But...you have to be careful. Don't expect to make headway too soon, and don't expect to be perfect. We're all human."
That final statement causes the two men to shift to the sight of Julia's grave, more grey as the sun retreats to the dark, blue night sky. Angie skips to Joey, having left the flowers nicely arranged in her wake.
"Ready," says Angie, grabbing her father's hand.
"Fine," says Joey. "Craig?"
"In a minute," replies Craig.
Joey and Angie start toward the car. Hands in his jeans, Craig stands in front of Julia's grave, then touches the smooth, cold surface. He's taken so many photos of this, of her, where he can't see her face.
"Hope I make you proud, Mom," he whispers to her. "I got little traces of you somewhere. Just gotta find them."
II.
"In here," orders Jeff, quickly tugging the doorknob of the office.
The muted, weighty silence of the party room fills Toby's ears, his father's voice barely audible. With more strength than he thought his mother had, Anne Marie helps Jeff lift Toby to a desk in the center of the office. His legs are barely working. Jeff shuts the door, then scans the office.
It's a regular business office, with a couple plush chairs, plaques and pictures on the wall, but the desk is empty. Toby massages his brow, blood starting to return to his veins so he can move more freely.
Manny. Her name keeps running through his mind, then that terrible term echoes right after it. She must've heard it, though he really hopes she didn't understand it.
"Manny," he groans, trying to stand.
"No you don't," commands Anne Marie softly, easing him back down.
"She's fine," reassures Jeff. "How are you doing?"
Toby shakes his head. How is he doing? What was supposed to be a special day for all of them turned into one giant nightmare. Nightmare. Ugh, when Rick shot Manny in the dream, he didn't think it meant anything and now...
"I couldn't protect her," whispers Toby.
"More worried about you right now, frankly," says Anne Marie. "Any bruises? Cuts?"
He doesn't reply, merely lets his mother take off his jacket and shirt. Jeff paces in front of the desk, clinching his fists.
"That kid...that kid!" says Jeff through gritted teeth.
"Toby!" cries Anne Marie.
Still a bit disoriented, Toby stares at her blankly. Under his white undershirt, there weren't any bruises, so why the reaction? The force from the push was subsiding too. Then, he notices where Anne Marie is staring, because the bruise, courtesy of Sully's locker room antics, has remained, smaller in size. Pretty much all of Toby's body goes red.
"What?" says Jeff, immediately going over.
"He's got this giant bruise!" says Anne Marie. "On his arm. I'm suing that kid for assault! Justin...what's his last name, sweetie?"
How about we never interact with Justin again, he feels like yelling. No, if he could never be in his presence, hear that ugly voice again, he'd be fine, great, excellent.
"It's...it's not from him," confesses Toby.
"Who did this to you?" demands Anne Marie, her cheeks flustered. "Tobias Benjamin...you tell me!"
And admit he's a wimp? No thanks, but the piercing stare he's receiving causes him to relent. That stare is probably what she uses to intimidate all of her clients when they do poorly.
"Some kid at school," mumbles Toby.
"Some kid at school?" repeats Anne Marie. "Jeff, what's going on here? You're obviously not watching my son closely enough if he's getting manhandled by hoodlums!"
"Hoodlums?" cries Jeff in disbelief. "They're school kids. I'm supposed to know they're going after Toby?"
"You told me he had a split lip not too long before the shooting," reminds Anne Marie, standing. "Too busy playing your violin to protect your son?"
"I let Toby deal with his own battles, Anne Marie," argues Jeff. "Excuse me for trusting a seventeen-year old to make smart decisions, which he's done. And you have some nerve getting on me for my parenting skills, when yours are basically non-existent."
"He's sixteen, not seventeen!" reminds Anne Marie. "A child."
Anne Marie folds her arms, coldly smiles.
"Who paid for the counseling?" exclaims Anne Marie. " The bar mitzvah? Because what was it, you 'were running a little low'? Kate certainly didn't chip in. Apparently, real estate agents don't make that much money? I check in as much as I can. Don't you dare say different!"
Toby rolls his eyes. Silly him for believing they'd get along for five minutes, never mind for the whole party. They were saying things they'd said for years. It never got old?
"Guys...," begins Toby.
"Leave Kate out of this!" snaps Jeff. "She has a daughter to support. I love how you think money's so important. Suing this kid? Of course, that immediately popped into your competition-obsessed mind. Things never change, do they? Always the career with you! That's why you're never there for Toby, why you weren't there during our marriage..."
They didn't hear him, as per usual.
"Sure...fault me for being a successful business woman with ambition, and not playing homemaker!" shouts Anne Marie. "Meanwhile, you're the perfect dad who sends our son to a school where who knows what is happening!"
"So why don't you offer a solution then?" yells Jeff.
"California...he'll go to school there!" replies Anne Marie, then taking a deep breath.
"California?" cries Toby, face getting pale.
"In his last year of school?" laughs Jeff, then glaring at his former wife. "After they elected him president? He's not going anywhere with you. I've got primary custody, he knows me better than he knows you, and his life, whether you like it or not, is right here. Pardon me while I get the rabbi!"
He's never heard his father raise his voice like that, shakes when Jeff throws Anne Marie a final angry look, exits the office. Instinctively, Toby glances at his mother, also shivering like a leaf. Jeff was usually so gentle, though Toby can see why his father is rattled.
"Mom?" says Toby.
"Your father's...so sensitive," says Anne Marie, avoiding his gaze. "Always has been."
Anne Marie rearranges the skirt of her business suit, then sits next to Toby. He really didn't want to be alone with her, especially after all the things she said. Sometimes he wishes his parents were more like Robert and Kate; their divorce didn't lead to a long string of arguments every time they said hello. He's sort of glad Kate hadn't come with them, after all of his mother's attacks.
"Maybe he wouldn't be sensitive if you watched what you said," moans Toby. "The fighting's...getting a little boring."
"Toby, I have to defend myself," remarks Anne Marie. "Just like you."
"I'm okay," insists Toby. "Can't...can't you guys be civil for the rest of the day?"
Anne Marie looks taken aback, reluctantly smiles. "You're right...sorry."
"Thanks," says Toby.
Another awkward pause, and Toby's not surprised. None of their discussions today were normal, or rather, none of the start of their discussions were normal. What do you say to a person that should be there more, but keeps tabs on you as if you were penciled in their day planner?
"Did...did you meet Manny?" asks Toby.
He doubts she did since the fight with Justin basically put the party at a standstill.
"As a matter of fact, I did," says Anne Marie. "Thought she was lovely."
"Yeah?" says Toby, smiling slowly.
"Oh yes," replies Anne Marie. "Knew she was your girl from the first view. Clean palate, flawless features, classic beauty...could give most of my clients a run for their money."
"She's going to be an actress," informs Toby. "One movie already."
"I can see that working out," says Anne Marie. "She's got this sun-kissed California look. Tall, carries herself nicely..."
"Tall?"
"Yes, with the blonde hair and long legs. Smart too."
Toby hangs his head, resisting the urge to fall right off the desk.
"Mom, that's Emma!" says Toby, not bothering to be polite that time.
Of course, she got it wrong. She knew his type? She barely knows him.
"Oh, she was by the buffet table," says Anne Marie, blushing. "You said Manny was short for something...I thought her name was Amanda or something. The buffet table was pretty loud."
"Manuella," corrects Toby. "Manny's short for Manuella. You'd know that if..."
Toby stops mid-sentence, puts on his dress shirt, crosses to the other side of the room. How many allowances would he give her, and how many seconds would pass before he refused to pretend anymore that he didn't care she barely kept in contact? Luckily, that's answered for him by Rabbi Miller and Jeff coming into the room.
"Toby, are you well?" asks Rabbi Miller.
Rabbi Miller appeared downtrodden, no doubt disappointed this happened among his congregation. But he had to have some small comfort that Justin wasn't a member of their synagogue.
"Yes, sir," answers Toby.
"Mrs. Isaacs, I don't believe we've had the pleasure," says Rabbi Miller, shaking hands with Anne Marie.
"Nice to meet you," says Anne Marie, gazing curiously at Toby.
Whatever he has to say to her can wait, he thinks. After all, he's waited for her too many times before, so she can wait now.
"Needless to say, I don't desire to confront this topic at such a moment, yet it's best if we handle it sooner rather than later," sighs Rabbi Miller. "I'd like to ask a few questions."
"Toby's in no position to...," starts Anne Marie.
"Stop babying him, Anne Marie," whispers Jeff, sternly.
"And you...," she poises herself to argue, then stops.
Hmmm, maybe she finally got it, Toby exchanging a knowing look with his mother.
"I'll be quiet," finishes Anne Marie. "Leave you to handle this."
"That'd be a first," mutters Jeff, smirking.
"Dad!" chastises Toby. "Please."
Anne Marie bumps past Jeff, causing the rabbi to raise an eye. She turns, sees Toby mouth "thanks" to her, nods, and leaves. Rabbi Miller folds his hands, leans against the desk, his usually benevolent position. What would Toby say to him?
"Toby, you know our congregation is very liberal," begins Rabbi Miller.
Toby nods sadly.
"Truth be told, that doesn't necessarily attract certain members of our faith, but these are our beliefs and all are welcome. I'm saying this because I want Manny to feel safe with us. If I need to talk to her personally..."
"No, no, sir," interjects Toby.
If he talks to her, she'd figure out the meaning of the word, and he can't have that. Simply can't.
"Very well then. Now, it's imperative we know the way the word was used," continues Rabbi Miller.
"No offense, Rabbi Miller, but it's quite obvious what the boy meant," speaks up Jeff.
"I don't believe in accusing anyone wrongly without the full details, Mr. Isaacs," says Rabbi Miller. "Though I've never liked this word, it's not always used pejoratively."
"Understood," complies Jeff.
"Toby?" encourages Rabbi Miller.
Deep in his gut, he was well aware that he'd be the one that would have to sell out Justin. Not Matthew, not his mother through legality. He's Clara's boyfriend too, and she's been so happy. Toby breathes in and out.
"Do the noble thing, son," says Jeff, going to Toby, putting an arm around him. "It's tough, I know."
"He...he called her filthy...and it...it was derogatory," admits Toby, refusing to look at either of them directly.
"That's that," sighs Rabbi Miller, straightening himself. "I'll consult with the other elders as to what to do next. May I have a word with him, Mr. Isaacs?"
"Yeah...certainly," says Jeff, giving them a puzzled look.
The door shuts after Jeff, Toby playing with the tie his mother took off. This day was stretching on forever and forever. He's amazed he's managed to stay cool and composed. There was someone out there who made his skin crawl, tried to make Manny feel lesser than herself, tried to make their relationship lesser than it is. They fought so hard to be together, no matter if it was insults thrown by Heather or Sully, or dealing with Clara or Manny's family situation, never mind their own feelings for Craig and Kendra. Kendra. Boy, was that an easy relationship in comparison.
"Why didn't you tell me it'd be this hard?" says Toby, glaring at Rabbi Miller. "I get confirmed, and an hour later, someone throws my faith in my face!"
Rabbi Miller shakes his head. "None of us are prepared for these ordeals."
"That's all you're going to say?" sighs Toby. "You didn't teach us this in..."
"You never want to tell the young that the world is cold, Toby," interrupts Rabbi Miller, placing a tentative hand on Toby's shoulder. "Or unforgiving. I'd much rather come to all the conclusions you made in your speech. That...that's what we should all learn."
"It was a stupid speech!" exclaims Toby. "No one will care! It was dumb!"
"No...no, it was not!" says Rabbi Miller, as forceful as Toby has ever heard him. "You mind that it moved so many. You...you just mind that."
Wow, Rabbi Miller genuinely believed that, judging by the tone of his voice. Based on the feeling he had when he read it, yeah, Toby has to reluctantly agree.
"I'm sorry," says Toby. "I...I'm wrong. Sorry."
"Not as sorry as I am," consoles Rabbi Miller, giving him a quick hug. "Let's go help."
III.
Nine-thirty. Sean slides a sugar packet against the counter of the Dot, sighs to himself for the millionth time. Yep, right now, he'd be working. No, he should be working. Jay is working. Great, he's been unemployed for less than two days and he's getting all nostalgic.
The garage was the best in Toronto, he can't lie. When Mr. Hill bought the place from Mel, he did a real turn around, starting offering more options to bring in more customers. Not only did it accomplish that, but they had to turn customers away near the end of Sean's run. A few people always asked for him too. He gave them the Sean treatment, the best for the regular price. They would get the Dale treatment, which essentially meant no treatment until someone else picked up his slack.
"More coffee, dude?" asks Spinner, leaning against the counter.
He looks rattled, realizes Sean. That's because he has a job. Eh, hating Spinner won't change anything. The guy was too nice anyway.
"Nah," waves off Sean.
Glancing around the restaurant, it's pretty hectic, which makes sense since exams are over. That may be why Spinner's so frantic. Sean polishes off his cup of coffee, the bell on the Dot door ringing. After the final ring, he sees two hands cover his eyes.
"Hey!" protests Sean.
"Don't move," commands Ellie.
Sean obediently stays still, hears some shuffling. Ellie taps him on his shoulder, indicating she wants him to look. When he does, he views several nicely taken postcards, a Canadian flag emblem in the left hand corner of each.
"Extra excitement after the B," explains Ellie. "Niagara...whale watching in Vancouver...Titanic burial site in Halifax. I'm all for the morbid."
"Great," says Sean, with a sheepish grin.
He can't afford this trip without steady pay. Ellie is so looking forward to it, their first chance to be completely alone for months...gone. It'd be dumb to take the idea back too, because it was his idea, his brainstorm. Why didn't his ideas ever work out? Slaving away at the garage would prep him to open up his own shop. Nope. Getting student welfare. Nope, though it almost came through and Mr. Ehl became a good friend. Buying an apartment. Nope, because he wouldn't be there at this rate.
"Those are yours," says Ellie. "I'm going to buy you a souvenir in every place we're in, to make up for the money you're spending on all of this."
Ellie smooths back Sean's hair, stares at him. He reads the look as total trust rather than his hair being all messy. Ellie would be let down by him, again, exactly the same way she was let down when he stayed in Wasaga. The last pay he'd be receiving is for Ashley's Acura, sure his last paycheck has to go to rent and other bills.
"Dad recommended the whale watching," informs Ellie. "He did that when he was our age."
"Yeah, about that, what should I wear to this dinner thing?" asks Sean, turning to her.
He glances at his combat boots, camo pants, and grey T-shirt.
"What you usually wear," replies Ellie.
"You're kidding, right?" says Sean.
"Um, okay. Slightly dressier," says Ellie. "Sean, it's not a big deal. The restaurant's a mix of comfortable and chic. Shirt and shoes...fancier. That's it. Wear jeans if you want. Dad hates getting dressed up too."
"Shaving too," mumbles Sean, touching his chin.
"Whatevskies," waves off Ellie. "So the next time I see you will be..."
"Graduation," fills in Sean. "Sure you won't brave the variety show? Manny convinced me to do tech. You can do an article or..."
"Nope, last article's done," explains Ellie. "Nadia's taking over the Grapevine, Jimmy's doing art...and I'm...well, I'm useless to them now."
Sean chuckles, kisses her cheek. "No, you're not."
"Having a guy-girl night in with Marco and Alex before summer gets busy that night," admits Ellie. "See ya."
Ellie buzzes Sean's lips, goes through the Dot door. Man, he really hates the thought of dashing her dreams. Or their dreams. Sean revolves the cup in his fingers.
"Useless, she says," comments a voice that's poison to him. "She talking about me or her?"
Sean glares at Dale, wishes his cup was full of steaming coffee so he could throw it at him. Dale's ratty ponytail was uglier up close. His blue eyes reflect a thousand insults struggling to be said, but Sean's grateful his lips were still puffy, a couple bandages near his chin.
"Go away," orders Sean, turning his seat in the other direction.
Dale hops up on the stool in order to face Sean. "No hard feelings?"
"You can feel the hardness of my fist if you don't get up!" whispers Sean.
"Violence didn't solve our issues, trailer trash," says Dale, smiling. "Got you fired."
"You got me fired," shoots back Sean.
"Different perspectives," sighs Dale. "Nevertheless, I really gel with your bud Jay."
"Do you?"
"It's a shame we never got along," says Dale, plaintively. "There aren't many mechanics like you, Cameron. Trustworthy, talented...pushovers."
"Shove it!" exclaims Sean. "Daddy isn't here to save you, alright?"
A few Degrassi students peer at the two guys, Sean not caring. Dale laughs, lowers his tone.
"Relax," whispers Dale. "Anyway, I offered Jay a proposition. To earn some cash. Very interested. I'd...be willing to extend the same proposition to you. A side operation...how I get money for weed."
"Why would I ever work with you?" whispers Sean. "Especially after our oh so happy garage time?"
"Got a job lined up yet?" asks Dale. "Far as I know, most garages are already staffed. Dad won't rehire you. Rent...and this little...honeymoon, or whatever it is...can't be coming cheap."
What? Dale had been listening to him and Ellie? No way. He'd pound him again before he'd ever consider this.
"How much pride could you possibly have?" whispers Dale.
"A lot," replies Sean, standing.
"That just means you have a lot to chip away," says Dale, retrieving a card from his jeans pocket. "My office number."
Dale presses the card in Sean's palm, takes a coffee cup Spinner hands him, and breezily exits the restaurant. He walks with smarm, looks like a rat. So why isn't he throwing the card in the garbage? Whatever side operation Dale was doing isn't worth more than his pride. Is it worth more than Ellie, and this trip, and following through with at least one thing?
Sean folds the card, places it securely in his pocket.
IV.
The Nelson residence is as quiet as the party became. Toby stands purposefully at the end of the driveway, hesitantly moving forward. Wow, the last time he saw her, they were both on the verge of tears, caught up in confusion. It's not like they hadn't been through that before, yet this is so different.
Anne Marie gave him the number to her hotel room. She was leaving Sunday, and he sort of promised he'd call her before then. She deserved at least that for not fighting anymore and being kind to him. Jeff said nothing, let the two of them talk. The rest of the party, except for Clara who Christian transported home, silently cleaned up, no longer willing to celebrate. It was the first sad somberness of the evening, after such a beautiful somber feeling beforehand. Toby and everyone else hurt as they picked up the broken pieces of plates, the untouched food, mainly because their hearts hurt. They were a new place of worship, Toby knew, and this might get out, discourage others from joining the synagogue.
This had been Manny's first trip inside the synagogue too. From behind the bimah, she looked so happy to be there, and he knows it wasn't her thing. She came for him, and this happened? Toby glances at his Star of David necklace, swallows the lump forming in his throat as he presses the doorbell.
Emma opens the door, lets Toby come inside.
"This is the latest you've ever come," notes Emma. "Ten-thirty?"
"Not too late, is it?" asks Toby.
"No, no, it's fine," consoles Emma. "I can't sleep most nights anyway. Early birthday present for Jack."
She nods to a scrapbook, with animal stickers on one side, pictures of Jack on the other.
"Out of the two of us, I thought I'd be the veterinarian," sighs Emma. "But Jack's crazy about all creatures great and small. Whether dolphin pants or stickers."
"There's still time for him to figure out what he wants to be," says Toby.
"Still time to check on Manny too," encourages Emma. "She's up."
He figured.
"Where?" says Toby.
"Hammock," answers Emma. "You alright?"
"Will be," reassures Toby, patting Emma on the shoulder.
He goes to the side door, the door where Manny lead him through to get to the basement the day before. That seems so distant, but he hasn't forgotten how wonderful it is to be alone with her. True to Emma's word, Manny is stretched out on the hammock, staring sadly at the stars above. They haven't gazed at the stars together for quite awhile, the night before they kissed, when she needed comfort. He hopes he can comfort her as good as he did then, though this, as Jack might say, is a different animal.
Manny makes no indication that she sees him, but he can tell she's noticed him. She has yet to take off her black dress, only her feet are bare, stockinged feet touching the red material of the hammock.
"Got home okay?" asks Toby.
"Spike picked us up," breathes Manny.
"Can't sleep?"
"No," replies Manny, turning her head away from him.
Toby nods, sits on the hammock, near her waist. The hammock droops slightly, forcing Manny to look at him. He knew it would work.
She looks heartbroken, and he's certain, certain she's clear on the meaning of Justin's word. It all used to be so innocent, though they didn't realize it. Skating, beauty pageants, movie premieres and lines. Why does it change?
"If I was in there," starts Toby. "You'd tell me to get up. You'd say, Toby...stop moping around. There's more to life than microchips..."
"Like chocolate chips," finishes Manny, smiling slightly. "I was hungry...when I made that line up."
Toby laughs, places her hand against his, winds her fingers with his. He's happy when Manny does the same.
"I shouldn't have gone," says Manny, her smile fading.
"Wouldn't have been right without you," insists Toby. "Not anymore. Manny, you mean so much to me now, it scares me in the best way."
Manny's cheeks glow in the moonlight, skin turning pale. That basically meant she was pleased, though resisting. He could read her expressions pretty well by then.
"If I never came...," chokes out Manny.
"Your variety show's tomorrow. Shouldn't be sad. I get to be proud of you. Switching it up, right?"
Manny beams. "Toby..."
He leans down, puts his lips to hers, keeping his eyes locked on hers. Manny lightly pushes him away, unlocks her fingers.
"If I'm not supposed to be with you, then...," starts Manny, starting to cry.
"You are," interrupts Toby, wiping her tears. "What I said in the speech matters more to me than whatever anyone else says. I would've topped it with I love you, but that might've been too much. J.T. would've puked."
"I loved when you kissed me," sighs Manny, easing him back to her. "I love that you said that."
She kisses him this time, fully on the lips, pulling him to her. Manny lifts his glasses up and down, making Toby smile.
"You aren't in any pain?" asks Manny.
"Just tired," replies Toby. "Apparently, not too tired to hear my mom identify Emma as my girlfriend."
"What?" laughs Manny, and he's grateful to hear it. "I'm tired too, but definitely interested!"
"She thought Manny was short for Amanda, and Emma looks like an Amanda?" guesses Toby. "Ugh. I really wanted you guys to meet."
"Psh, we will, and she'll love me," assures Manny.
They chuckle, Manny whimpering.
"Mmmm, my foot's asleep," she says, massaging her feet.
Toby quickly rises, putting one arm over Manny, inching her to him. Manny squeals in mock protest, begins to relax in Toby's arms as he lifts her. He whirls her around a couple times, Manny's hair flying, knocking against Toby's cheeks. She's fairly light, and the bruise fails to ache. It feels special to carry her, carry some of the weight that may be on her heart after this day. He'll keep on doing it until she tells him to stop.
"Chivalry gets you to the side door," informs Toby, starting to walk.
"Awww, I was hoping for down the steps," groans Manny playfully.
"Yeah, right," mumbles Toby, grinning.
Toby spins her some more, Manny giggling, their laughter filling the night.