playing with prodigal sons
takes a lot of sentimental valiums
can't expect the world to be your raggedy andy
while running on empty
you little old doll with a frown
Clu and I didn't speak at breakfast beyond painfully cordial greetings. After the plates were cleared, I made an excuse to drive into town. Annie volunteered to ride shotgun and off we went.
"So," she said slyly. "Did you see that?"
"See what?"
"At breakfast!" I looked over at her blankly. "Clu! And Fi!"
"What about them?" I asked suspiciously.
"Didn't you notice?" She sounded so pleased with herself.
"You set them up?" I couldn't keep the incredulity out of my voice.
She giggled. "Well, Carey helped." Her, I could forgive. She didn't know. But him? I found it difficult to believe that I had been that convincing the other night when I'd insisted I didn't care. "So what do you think?"
"I think it's a bad idea," I said resolutely, and focused on the road.
She looked hurt, almost like I'd slapped her. "You do?"
"They're not right together."
She didn't respond, just sat back in the passenger seat staring pensively out her window. Whatever. I thought briefly about keeping up the charade, pretending that I thought it was a brilliant match, that it didn't bother me at all. But what was the point? Regardless of my true motivation for expressing that particular opinion, I believed it was true. Great friends, yes. Lovers? No. But I didn't say anything more on the subject.
When we came home later, Clu and Fiona had gone to a movie. Fabulous. I suppressed the urge to go upstairs and pout. Instead I hung out in Mom's living room with Annie, who was thankfully writing lyrics and not music, and Carey, who was looking over her shoulder and pointing out spelling mistakes. I sat on the floor leaning my head against the arm of the couch and watched them surreptitiously. She slapped his hand away when he tried to point at words and looked at him adoringly, it seemed. I was in the midst of wondering what that was all about when the front door opened.
Clu and Fi were mid-conversation, reminiscing about something or other, no doubt. She was laughing, resting a hand on his arm, and he didn't mind the attention at all. I tried not to sulk as they called out greetings to everyone who happened to be in the house. I forced a smile and said, "Hey, guys. How'd you like the movie?"
Clu said, "It was awesome, man, I can't explain, but it was like" And he remembered suddenly who he was talking to, and he backed off, and my stomach twisted. "I mean, yeah. It was fine."
Fi gave him a questioning look and glanced over at me and Annie and Carey before answering. "Yeah, it was good," she agreed, subdued again. "I'm gonna go check my e-mail."
"I'll go with you!" chirped Annie, grabbing her notebook back from Carey, who had been erasing words and writing in new ones with her pencil, and hopping off the couch before Fi could object, as I'm sure she wanted to do.
So there we were, me on the floor, Carey on the couch, and Clu standing awkwardly in the hallway. He couldn't find an excuse to go somewhere else in the house, and I wasn't looking right at him but I could tell he didn't want to leave, either.
"Finally," Carey said, flipping on the television. A man in a stupid rubber mask was very slowly chasing some nubile teenage girl down a hallway. He sighed with contentment. I tried to summon all the courage I could find and stood up. "Hey, Clu."
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to, um, talk, or something? Like, catch up?" I looked over at Carey, keeping my tone light just in case. He was engrossed in the movie, anyway.
"Sure, man." He smiled. We headed upstairs. But Annie was sitting on my bed playing video games. Did I give her permission to do that? I couldn't remember. It didn't matter. I wanted to tell her to get out. But I couldn't arouse suspicion. I looked at Clu and shrugged helplessly.
"Hey, Annie," he said, like he was about to say something else, suggest that she go somewhere else, maybe.
"Hey, Clu."
"You want--"
"Oh! Clu!" She tossed the controller onto the carpet and grabbed his arm. "I wanted to show you something. In Fi's room. Come on!" She dragged him down the hallway. I flopped down on the bed face forward and wondered why I hadn't just told her in the first place. Then I remembered: because she would have told everyone, and that would be catastrophic.
But why would it have been catastrophic, back when it first happened or even now?
Mom would be fine with it, I was sure. And Carey obviously didn't care. I couldn't predict Ned and Irene's reaction, though. As for Fiona she was a different issue altogether. Was there a history I didn't know about? How could I not know? How could I be so stupid? Obviously, he came back to see her. What was I thinking? I groaned into my pillow just as Annie bounced back into the room.
"Jack!" she hissed. "I got them together again!"
I wanted to tell her. Oh, how I wanted to tell her. But I held my tongue and said, "That's great."
She beamed, so pleased that her plan was working out, and suddenly I was sorry for being relatively mean in the car. She could be so disarming at times, with her innocent cheer. I remembered the way she had been so happy downstairs, messing around with Carey and her songs.
I said, "Hey, did I tell you I love your haircut?"
"Yeah?" She touched it like she wasn't sure she liked it.
"You know who else does?" Her eyes widened. Was this really the right thing to do? He had seemed happy, too. Maybe that's why he hadn't wanted to talk about his love life. We had thought he might have something going on, or want to have something going on, with Fiona. But that idea was misguided, apparently, if he was helping Annie fix her up with Clu. So maybe my instincts had been wrong the first time. Maybe that was the real reason why he had invited her here in the first place! I nodded to myself and took a deep breath. "Carey," I whispered conspiratorially.
"Really?" she breathed.
"Yes. He told me."
After a few more minutes of that, she headed downstairs, cautiously buoyant. I locked my door and tried not to think about what was going on in the rest of the house.