The Weight of Blood (14)

Jules puckered her lips, giving the mirror a kiss, then grabbed Wendy’s hand. “Come on! I don’t want to miss the slideshow!”

During the dinner, senior cheerleaders were given certificates as pictures of them were displayed on a projection screen. Wendy and Jules quickly sat in their seats at a table toward the front.

“Took you long enough,” Mrs. Marshall quipped. An equally stunning redhead, she hugged a glass of white wine to her designer dress. Her wedding ring, nearly the size of a quarter, twinkled in the light as she stretched an arm over the back of her daughter’s chair.

“We were being entertained by a prospect,” Jules said with a smirk, nodding across the room at Pamala, sitting bolt straight next to her mother.

“Ohhhh, I see,” Mrs. Marshall said, as if holding in a chuckle. “That’s the Kendall family. Just moved over from the East. Lucked up on an inheritance. Let’s see them try to keep up with their property taxes.” She turned to Wendy. “Where are your parents, pumpkin? I was hoping to get to see them tonight.”

Wendy took a nervous sip of water. “Oh. Uh, I think they had to work late.”

Jules narrowed her eyes. “But it’s our senior dinner.”

Wendy winced a smile. “It’s fine. Really.”

Jules pursed her lips, arms crossing. It wasn’t fine.

“Well, it’s better they didn’t,” Mrs. Marshall said, scanning the room. “They’re letting any old body in here. I thought this was supposed to be a banquet. Feels more like a soup kitchen.”

Jules and her mom giggled while Wendy shifted toward the screen, watching the montage of photos and videos taken over the years at various games, practices, and competitions, set to music. Wendy couldn’t help being in awe of how she and Jules had grown. Always up front in their green-and-white uniforms, the fearsome duo—the redhead and the blonde, fire and ice—inseparable fraternal twins.

Her stomach clenched around nervous jitters. The day would eventually come when they would have to separate, and Wendy found herself torn between wanting to know who she was without Jules and terrified of finding out. Would anyone consider her interesting, smart, pretty, or funny? Or would the world soon learn of her commonness? Was she just basking in the shared spotlight that seemed to follow Jules wherever they went? The truth was, Jules could live just fine without Wendy, but could Wendy live without Jules?

But next to Kenny, Wendy wouldn’t have to worry about that. She would have her own glamorous home full of expensive clothes and a guaranteed spotlight. Her own rich family. Her own daughter to take to the cheer banquet.

Jules, gazing at the screen in childlike wonder, looped arms with Wendy, snuggling in the crook of her neck as they watched the memories pass by.

“Madison! What are you doing?”

In a daze, Maddy blinked up at Papa. “Huh?”

He stood at the stairs, ripping off his glasses. “What. Are. You. Doing?”

Maddy frowned and took a step back, realizing she had been daydreaming at the threshold of Papa’s office again. The one room in the house she’d never been in, only catching glimpses of his crowded desk and overstuffed bookshelf. The room seemed so unlike him.

“You know you’re not allowed in here,” he barked, brushing by her to slam the door shut.

“Yes, Papa,” she mumbled, following him down to the living room.

On Fridays, Papa liked to eat TV dinners in front of the television while watching his favorite black-and-white programs. He’d recorded hours of old movies and shows on hundreds of video cassettes. A bookcase with rows and rows of tapes sat on the far left of the room, meticulously labeled and organized alphabetically. If he hadn’t been cursed with a daughter, he would have maybe been a film historian. They didn’t have cable, internet, or even cell phones. Papa had all the entertainment he and Maddy could ever need.

They set up two peeling brown TV trays with rusted golden legs in front of a wooden TV set. Nestled in his plaid recliner, Papa chuckled in between bites of turkey with gravy, enjoying another episode of Leave It to Beaver.

Maddy mixed her watery mashed potatoes with a fork, holding in a sigh. She had seen the episode so many times she could practically recite it word for word.

“Gee, Mom, do I have to . . .”

They had all the classics: The Dick Van Dyke Show, The Andy Griffith Show, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Father Knows Best, to name a few. But Papa loved Beaver the most. It represented his values: a wholesome family with a father who comes home from work in time for dinner, wholesome kids with milk mustaches, and a mother who cleaned the house, staying in the kitchen where she belonged.

“See? That’s how women are supposed to dress,” Papa said, pointing to the woman’s tea-length skirt. “Modest. Decent.”

“Yes, Papa,” she answered for what felt like the millionth time.

As the episode finished, Maddy cleared their plates while Papa loaded another cassette into the VHS. Maddy returned just in time to see the opening credits for To Have and Have Not.

Maddy smiled at Papa. It was one of her favorites, starring Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart, who were madly in love in real life as well as on-screen. She loved the way Humphrey wrapped Lauren in his arms, their kiss full of passion. She wondered if such a moment would happen in her own life.

“You know how to whistle, don’t you, Steve? You just put your lips together and blow.”