Holding Up the Universe(54)

He says to Jack, “So where are you planning on taking my daughter this evening?” He keeps saying my daughter like he’s trying to drive the point home. THIS IS MY CHILD, MY FLESH AND BLOOD. DO YOU KNOW HOW DEAD YOU WILL BE IF YOU DO ANYTHING TO MESS WITH MY ONLY KID?!

“I thought we’d see a movie and get something to eat.”

“You’ll bring her home by eleven o’clock.”

Me: “I’m a junior in high school.”

Dad: “Yes, you are.”

Me: “How about midnight?”

Dad: “How about ten thirty?”

Me (to Jack): “I need to be home by eleven.”

Jack (laughing): “Not a problem. I promise to get her home by then, if not before.”

Not too much before, I think.

My dad says to him, “When was the last time you had your car serviced?”

And now I can’t tell if he’s just messing with Jack or if he’s being serious. I try to send him a telepathic message: Please stop this. Please lighten up. There’s a good chance he’s going to destroy my chances here before I can, and maybe Jack isn’t my last opportunity to have a male nonrelation love me, but he’s certainly my best opportunity right now, and besides, I actually like him.

I like Jack Masselin.

“August. I’m actually pretty handy, so I did it myself.”

Dad studies him for what seems like the rest of my life. “You know, your father and I went to school together. We played on the football team in middle school and in high school.”

And it’s not exactly I’m so thrilled you’re taking my daughter out, but it’s something.

In the car I say, “I’m sorry about my dad.”

“Are you kidding? He has every reason to kick my ass. If I was him, I’d never let me near you.”

But all I hear is I just want to be near you, Libby Strout. I want to kiss your lips right off your face.

Jack says, “He’s just protective, and he should be, especially after what I did to you. That’s how I’d be if I ever had a daughter.”

But what I hear is I will always be protective of you. I will always look after you and our daughter, the one we’re going to have together after we get married and I am loving you forever.

I’m in the same car, only fifteen years in the future—somewhere far away from Amos. Jack Masselin is next to me like he is now, only our kids are in the backseat, or maybe just one kid—the daughter—my hand on his leg. I stare at his leg and then at his hands on the wheel. I bet you’ll be a wonderful father.

I’m not sure where we’re going, but we’re headed to the east side of town, where the restaurants and the movie theater are. This is where my dad and I lived until they had to destroy our house to get me out.

As if he can read my mind, Jack says, “Didn’t you use to live on this side of town?”

“Once upon a time. So where are we going?”

He grins at me, and I melt into the seat. My insides have gone warm and soft, and I lean into this feeling because it’s not something I have all the time. It’s okay to be happy, I hear Rachel say. It’s okay to let yourself enjoy the good times.

Tonight could be the night. My Pauline Potter work-off-the-weight sex night. Jack Masselin, you just might be my first.

He says, “I was thinking we’d get something to eat and take it from there.” But he might as well say I’m taking you to the moon and back, and while we’re up there, I’m going to collect the stars for you so that you can keep them.

And suddenly I’m thinking about the daughter we’re destined to have. Beatrice, I think. We’ll name her Beatrice.

We drive past Olive Garden, Applebee’s, and the Red Lobster that opened last month. I’m mentally ticking through all the restaurants in town—there aren’t many—but we pass one after the other. I half expect him to just circle around and take me home, no food, no date. Or maybe drive across the Ohio line where no one will recognize him or me or us.

But then we’re leaving Amos, and my heart deflates a little, which tells me I didn’t actually expect him to do this, and now he’s doing it—smuggling me over city lines like the daughter of some wealthy oil baron.

“Where are we going?” My voice sounds flat, as if it’s underridden a semi about fifty times.

“Richmond.”

“Richmond?” It comes out sounding like ARE YOU F-ING KIDDING ME? RICHMOND?! WHY DON’T YOU JUST CHAIN A BOULDER TO MY LEG AND THROW ME IN THE RIVER?

“Yes, Richmond. There’s no way I’m taking you to one of the usual dumps in town. Not looking like that.”





Clara’s Pizza King is an institution. It’s the best pizza for miles, and there’s a red double-decker bus parked in the dining room. The place is crowded, but I’ve called ahead. We can sit in the bus or at a corner table upstairs that has a porch swing on one side. Libby chooses the porch swing.

We move through the tables, Libby in front of me, and I see people staring at her. This happens when I’m with Caroline—people look at her. But they look at Caroline because she’s the kind of tall, sexy girl you look at.

As we walk, I can see where the path is too tight, where Libby will have to squeeze through. I offer to go first because that way I can choose which way to go so she doesn’t have to worry about it. I’m clearing the way, and people are gawking, and it hits me that up until recently, I was one of them. Maybe not the snickering ones, but the ones sitting next to them. I don’t know what to feel or do, so I stare back. Do I know them or not know them? I don’t even care. They’re watching her and me, and this table of boys starts saying shit. Does she hear them? I can’t tell. Probably. I throw my head back—a move I like to think makes my hair instantly grow twenty times bigger, and me ten feet taller—and I give them the eye. They get quiet.