Nobody saw Liz or me as we slipped in through the front door at around twenty-five minutes after eleven PM. The party was definitely in full swing, with Mister Guthro from Dad's office playing Beatles tunes on the synthesizer keyboard in the living room, while partiers from seven to seventy sang along, significantly more off-key than on. By the sources of other voices I could tell that there were two more large knots of party guests, in the downstairs den and the kitchen, and I tried to determine party strategy over the mangled strains of 'Yesterday.'
What did I want, now that we were here? Well, I wanted to see Isabel, Michael if he was around, relax a bit among any other friends who might be here, and have a chance to arrange my midnight kiss with Liz in some sort of privacy, away from the parents. Where would Isabel and Michael go once my Mom's friends started to annoy them? Upstairs, no, that wasn't really Isabel's style, to hide in her room, (or mine,) and Dad wouldn't be happy if he caught her 'hiding' up there.
In the back yard. That had to be it.
Should we have gone around back in the first place? Maybe, but probably not, even if I'd thought of it then. There was time, and putting in a bit of parental face time - say, by passing through the kitchen on the way to the back door, was one of the ordeals that Liz and I really did need to go through, and probably better sooner than later. I led the way down the hall, and Liz followed.
It occurred to me just before we got to the end of the hall that it might not really be worth the attention that we'd attract, (and the teasing, even if it would be parental and good-natured,) by appearing holding hands. So I turned to Liz, and stroked her cheek with my hand - (one thing about this whole 'no kissing until midnight' deal was it really helped me appreciate the intimacy and affection of almost any kind of touch,) and then brought my arm back to my side. Liz looked disappointed for just a moment, but she smiled - and when I walked into the kitchen, she was right behind me. It probably wasn't that much less obvious to anybody paying attention than the holding hands would have been.
"Max!" Somewhat to my surprise, neither of the two people who called my name were related to me - it was Mister and Missus Parker, who were sitting next to each other near the far end of the kitchen table, and - and Liz's father was in the middle of reaching out to pull a card from the board of a very old game, one I dimly recognized as involving the Knights of Camelot going out on missions that involved them doing battle with Dungeons and Dragons type wandering monsters. (Don't ask me about what sort of crazy focus group inspired that combination.)
And Liz was the next person to work up the nerve to speak. "Umm - hi Mom, hi Dad, nice to see you, sorry that I didn't... well, I didn't call you back, and that I vanished for the whole day, but - I see that you remember my friend Max."
"Yes, I'm pretty sure that they do, Liz," my mom told her. "I'm glad that you made it here, how was your day?" I was looking around for my Dad, but he didn't seem to be in the kitchen, and - well, I'd have definitely recognized his voice even through the cacophony if he'd been one of the Beatles chorus. (My dad is one of the few people I know gifted with the ability to make a cacophony all by himself when he sings.) Maybe he was with the den crowd, or just in the bathroom, or off on some minor errand.
"I - well, I had a really good day, Missus Evans," Liz admitted. "I think that we both did."
"I'll want to hear all about it - in the morning," Mister Parker said.
"All about it?" I shot back in my best friendly joking tone. "Come on, sir; let us have a few secrets. We'll give you the important highlights."
"I think that's very considerate of you, Max," Liz's mother said, though her father didn't seem quite so impressed. "Umm, can I offer you a soda or some nog or anything?"
"Do we have cherry coke?" I immediately asked, and Liz said nearly the same thing in unison, except that she used 'you' instead of 'we' - the two of us looked at each other sidelong, and started laughing quietly. My mom shook her head, went over to the cooler at the other end of the table from the game board, and produced two soda cans with a design in bright cherry red against a darker burgundy.
"Thanks," Liz said, taking both of them and passing one to me. "So, umm - is Isabel around anywhere? I'd like to say hello."
"In the back yard," my mother said, with a tolerant smile. "Along with Michael, and some of their friends from school." That phrasing surprised me a little, but I didn't say anything about it. Michael doesn't exactly have any friends at school, except for Isabel and me, possibly Liz and Maria DeLuca - and he certainly doesn't get along with Isabel's popular 'friends.' I traded another look with Liz, and a few of the adults in the kitchen snickered. (Including Miz Ennis, who's been a friend of my mother's for about five years now.)
"You've done your necessary time, for the moment, you don't have to hang around here with us," Liz's mom said kindly. "Go on; say hi to the other kids."
"Alright - happy new year if we don't see you before then," Liz said, and nodded respectfully as she walked over to the back door - actually it's in the side of the house, but near the rear and close enough to the backyard to make it convenient that way. As I followed her out, Liz stopped for a second and held out her hand to me in silent entreaty, and I took it gladly enough. I'd have to make the score clear to my friends soon enough, and this was as good a way as any.
But as we stepped along the little passageway between the house and the garage, (or just as well, between the driveway and the back yard,) and our eyes adjusted, it became clear that one expected face was not there. There was Isabel, holding a small court with Tavia Swann from the cheerleading team and Rhonda Womack, who's not really part of her regular crowd, but a rich wannabe MBA type, who's the daughter of the managing partner at Dad's firm, and it looked like the three of them were getting along well enough. Along the back wall, Don Flenson and Dwayne Steel were tossing a football back and forth - they're not teammates of Kyle's, just big guys from the auto shop crowd, and I suppose that if Michael had been given the opportunity to invite some guys along so that he wasn't too bored, they'd probably have made his list. But where was Michael himself?
"Hi, Isabel," Liz singsonged, feeling no fear at intruding on such exalted company as my sister and her friends tonight, "Where did Michael run off to? My parents seemed to think that he was out here with you."
"Hello, Liz," Isabel said to her with something between bored indifference and sincere friendliness. "Michael, he was making dirty jokes with the big boys back there, until he suddenly remembered somebody that he had to track down. Before midnight, if I guess right."
"Oh, interesting," I said. I hadn't let go of Liz's hand as she drew near the girls, and everybody seemed to be aware of it. I think that there was a little bit of a frown on Tavia's face - she flirts with me every chance she gets, and somehow I sensed that she wouldn't have minded taking Liz's place, but - well, Tavia's a stunning beauty, no arguing that, but in the time I've spent with her I've never got any sense of a connection between us beyond the purely superficial. Most teenage boys wouldn't care about that probably, but then again most boys don't have the kind of secrets and troubles in their life that I do in mine. When you think of how hesitant I was to really open up to Liz, considering all that we've shared, there's absolutely no question that I wouldn't let someone I didn't feel so close to into my life, even to the extent of casual dating - not just for the sake of pretty green eyes and a pair of C-cups.
Besides, once I saw into Liz's heart, there was no comparison. She's gorgeous too, not the kind of cheerleader prettiness that Tavia has, but Liz's inner and outer beauty adds into something that certainly the entire squad couldn't match. Anyway, sorry about that ramble. I tried to get my head back onto the subject of what Isabel had last said - about Michael leaving a little while ago. "Say, Liz, do you happen to know what Maria's New Year's Eve plans are?"
"I'm not sure; she might be boycotting the whole thing, renting a movie with her mom and picking up pizza..." Oh, wasn't that an interesting mental movie, Michael coming to the DeLuca's door asking for Maria at midnight and Amy DeLuca's reaction, "...Or, actually, she had an invite from Tri-gon to come out to their symphonic soiree. I think that she was considering it."
"Oh, huh," I mumbled. Tri-gon is a local musical group, three girls who do blues-inspired a Capella singing, and they're all local high schoolers - one junior from Roswell High, one junior and one senior from West Roswell. They've gathered some buzz and scored gigs all over the area, as far away as Albuquerque and Santa Fe, and I heard somebody, (maybe Isabel,) talking about the speculation that they'd soon be holding auditions for an understudy, to take over Monica Joelson's spot when she went away to college, because she'd gotten early admission to a performing arts schools somewhere in the Midwest, maybe Chicago. And Liz had told me that Maria liked to sing - was she considering trying out for the group? And again, it would be a rather funny place for Michael to show up looking for her.
"Hey, Guerin split?" one of the guys, I think it was Dwayne, called over to us - and grunted softly as the little football bounced off his belly. "I didn't even notice, how about that."
"Pay some attention, Steel, I saw him take off," Don answered. "Maybe we should say our goodbyes too - we can try swinging by Amanda Kenson's slumber party a few minutes before midnight."
"Oh, good luck," Tavia called back sarcastically. Amanda was the cheerleading squad captain, and probably most of her guests were members.
"Thanks," Dwayne said, not catching the irony, and soon the guys had disappeared around the corner of the garage.
"Do you mind if we jet too, Isabel?" Rhonda asked her. "That is, if you want to come along with me, Tav."
"Umm - no, that's okay, and thanks," Isabel said. "I'll be fine."
"Did they mention heading off somewhere else?" Liz asked curiously as the girls departed as well, leaving only the three of us, conspirators all."
"Hmm?" Isabel considered that for a moment. "Maybe. I wasn't really paying attention to what they were talking about the whole time."
"Oh." Liz looked like she couldn't figure out what to say to that, which I rather understood.
"So, the two of you seem big with the - well, I suppose that holding hands isn't huge on the PDA scale, but it's more than you've indulged in for the last few weeks," Isabel said. "Can I assume that you're back together?"
"Umm, yeah," I told her, wondering what the rest of her reaction would be when it was confirmed.
"Yes!" Isabel nodded her head decisively. "Michael had better not welch on that twenty bucks, if he knows what's good for him."
"Okay," Liz drawled, caught by surprise, but grinning. "Listen, Isabel, while we've got you here alone, there's a few other things we need to tell you about. Important stuff about - well, about you-know-what. Today, Max and I..." She trailed off, not certain how to put this.
"Oh, lord." Isabel leaned against the back wall of the house. "You met Nasedo, didn't you? And the two of you told him all about the rest of us, and..."
"No, no," I insisted, feeling somewhat relieved deep down. After this over-reaction, the truth would go over better - I hoped. "Not Nasedo, though it's something a bit similar. Liz and I - we found the suspended animation pods."
"What?" Isabel asked. "You mean, out in some cave in the desert?"
"Well, yes," Liz said, pulling out the white craft envelope. "We have proof, and a bit of a surprise. There were four pods in the - the chamber, not just three."
"Four?" Isabel exclaimed, reaching out to take the envelope but not looking inside. "Do you think that Nasedo was inside a pod too?"
"Not sure, but probably not," I whispered. "Somebody else, maybe, somebody that we haven't really heard of before now. Do - do you remember a little girl, with curly blond hair, maybe still inside her pod after we got out?"
Isabel seemed to be struck speechless by this idea, and then we were all distracted from the talk of pods. "Isabel! You've got a visitor in here," my mom's voice called from around the corner of the house. "I think that he wants to see you before midnight."
"I knew it!" Liz exclaimed. "Gotta be Alex."
"Oh, lord," Isabel rolled her eyes, not sounding extremely happy about the prospect, but she did lead the way back to the side door and past Mom into the house. Liz and I followed, not bothering to stop holding hands this time, even as we passed my mother.
We were only just around the kitchen table when it all happened. "Isabel!" Alex's voice came from the living room, and then I spotted the gawky guy himself, around the edges of the Beatles crowd. He hurried towards the kitchen door, looking like he was determined to sweep my sister up in his arms and kiss her if she didn't happen to have any pepper spray on hand to repel him with, but he bumped into the wife of somebody from the firm on the way, making her spill her drink. "Sorry," Alex muttered, and continued on without pausing.
He would have done better to pay more attention to the spilled eggnog, and not continued rushing at top speed over the spot where it had landed on the hardwood floor. Nog is very slippery, and I think that for at least a full send he was sliding along on that foot - and then natural friction reasserted himself, but Alex's balance had been thrown off just enough that he couldn't get his other foot down on the floor in time, and toppled forward, crashing onto the floor himself.
"Alex!" Isabel exclaimed, upset that this incident had all started for her sake, and more sympathetic to Alex's plight than I might have guessed she would be. "Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling down next to his shoulder.
"Umm, yeah, I'm good," Alex mumbled, turning his face around to face Isabel, while Liz and I hurried forward to help out if we could. "Feel a little skinned and scraped, but aside from that everything's fine."
"Ohh." Isabel reached out a hand, and Alex managed to push himself up on his side and take it.
"Three, two, one, Happy New Year!" The call seemed to be coming from the direction of the den, possibly the only place where Alex's sudden arrival hadn't distracted people from watching the clock as the final minutes ticked away. So suddenly Alex's predicament, and even Isabel, was dropped out of my mind as I turned back to Liz, realizing that the moment was upon us. I wanted to kiss her so badly - but couldn't quite work up the nerve, considering that this kiss had been the focus of everything that we'd been through all day - and the day had been a very hard one to top. There had been so much buildup to kissing her now, that I couldn't see that I could possibly live up to the buzz.
Liz seemed to share in the nervousness and anxiety, but she held one arm out in front of her, the forearm and hand pointing straight up, the palm facing to one side. "Make it a Palmer's kiss?" she said, giggling.
"What on earth?" I breathed, truly mystified about what even that phrase meant.
"Come on," she cajoled. "Haven't you ever felt like Romeo to my Juliet, after all this? 'Palm to palm is holy palmers kiss?'" And that did ring a faint bell, of the phrase appearing in the midst of a passage of verse, and of the two young romantic leads (of a performance or a movie?) touching their hands in the same fashion that Liz was holding hers out, so as to avoid notice at a party or dance while their families were watching.
But as an actual suggestion, it was laughable, (partly because we'd already been touching like that through the day,) and served to goad me into action. Maybe that was what Liz had had in mind. "Forget that," I muttered, stepping in close, linking my arms around her waist, and she brought her hands around to hold on behind my shoulders. Feeling the need for some kind of theatricality, I dipped her body down as low as I could manage, as if we were ballroom dancing, (though there was no music, the faint strains of 'Help' having faded out with the midnight cheering and the rush of other couples to make their kisses,) and brought my lips to hers, in a sweet meeting that quickly became hot and passionate.
Flash! Something of that old connection that had been between us before, but - but blocked, held in check all day as we tried to sort things out between ourselves, went into overdrive as the kiss deepened. I felt a rush of images flash through me, and knew that they weren't from Liz's mind or life alone, but from both of us, from what our lives could be now that they were together. Our destiny, if you want to use such a loaded word.
A glowing symbol, two curved lines coming out of a central blob. The galaxy icon, more or less as it showed on Isabel's Mesaliko pendant, but shining out of the ground in a forest clearing. And that same icon again, engraved on a metallic orb that looked like a small football.
The short, curly-haired blonde girl - I could tell for certain that it was the same one that I remembered from the pod chamber, but not as I'd seen her before - now a sassy teenager with attitude, fashionably dressed, quite beautiful in a way that still didn't hold a candle to Liz but was slightly more relatable than Tavia. Walking into the lunch courtyard in West Roswell High. And I could tell that Liz was with me in that glimpse of the future, that she was with me for all of this, in fact.
And one more moment, holding Liz in my arms and dancing, somewhere - where? Out to the side of a busy highway, well beyond the shoulder, maybe some kind of rest station parking lot, with cars ringing us nearly all the way around, and some music that I couldn't recognize playing. I couldn't tell why, but something about that scene was completely fulfilling, as if the last thing that Liz and I needed to accomplish to be certain that we would spend the rest of our lives together had been well done. I saw Alex watching us dance, and Kyle Valenti - and that head full of curly blonde hair was leaning against Kyle's shoulder, eyes closed in sleep.
And then somebody cleared their throat strongly enough to snap me out of that vision, and Liz and I straightened up and stopped swapping saliva. Isabel bent over and kissed Alex on the cheek, and I looked over and saw that the kitchen clock was just about to make one minute after midnight.
"Happy millennium, everybody," I muttered.
"Actually, the millennium doesn't start until the end of the year 2000," Liz offered.
"Oh, don't start that one with me, Parker," Isabel grumbled.
I turned around to look at my mom, and was slightly surprised to see Dad next to her, though I can't think why in retrospect - they're still the kind of couple that makes a big deal about things like kissing at the New Year, even after so many years together. "Umm, I'm just going to go drive Liz home, and then I'll be off to bed."
"I do think that we can handle the ride, Max," Mister Parker said. "Though thank you for offering. And we'll see you tomorrow for lunch." He didn't make it sound like a question, but that was okay.
The way Liz Parker's love made me feel tonight, I could handle anything that her parents threw at me tomorrow. I touched my palm to hers, grinning, and felt the pleasant surge of energy go through me like electricity, and then her parents were hustling her off.
Until tomorrow.
I'd have wanted to go to bed right away and end the day on that high note, but Mom made me end the whole affair the way it had started.
With me cleaning. Sigh.