Girls of Summer(56)

Theo nodded. “I’m sure you could.”

They positioned themselves. “On the count of three,” Dave said.

At three, Theo heaved upward with the other two, and the tub was off the floor.

It weighed more than a rhino.

Slowly Theo and Dave backed out of the bathroom and down the hall to the stairs. The worst part was going backward down the steps. Then the full weight seemed to be on him and Dave. Theo had strong thighs and pecs, but mother of pearl, this bathtub was a monster. He was aware of Dave straining and grunting, swearing, as he set the pace, slowly, purposefully, setting one foot down a stair, and then the other, waiting for Theo to match his movements. And Theo flashed on his quarterback days, when he had been part of a team, and on their best days they had moved collectively like one creature composed of several parts. Those days had been the best.

They continued, step by step, down to the front hall, where they set it on the floor and took a breather. Like the other two men, Theo put his hands on his knees and bent forward, huffing.

   “Okay,” Dave said. “Open the door as wide as you can. We’ll take it out to the truck.”

When they had finally loaded the tub in the truck, Dave and Tom walked around, shaking their arms, stretching their backs, cursing, and laughing. Theo copied them, but instead of shaking his arms, he rubbed his left upper arm where the pain was. The pain didn’t go away.

“You okay, Theo?” Dave asked.

“Yeah. Wow. That was a mother.”

“It was. Couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks.”

Dave turned to Tom and said something about installing the new window in the bathroom. Theo waved, went into the house, and up the stairs, as if he had a hundred projects waiting for him.

What he had waiting for him was a vial of OxyContin. A doctor had prescribed it for him.

“No,” Theo had argued. “I don’t want OxyContin.”

“Look,” the doctor had said, exasperated. “Bone fractures hurt. Oxy helps with the pain. If you’re not in pain, it will make you high. You’re an adult. When the pain has lessened, gradually take fewer pills, and then quit altogether. I’m not renewing this prescription, and you’re not going to become addicted if you follow my instructions.”

Theo had taken the oxy, but after two weeks, he changed to Tylenol four times a day. His arm still hurt, but not much more than it had in high school after getting slammed in football. He hated oxy. It had killed Atticus. It was the enemy.

But now his arm hurt like hell. He shut his bedroom door tight and threw himself down on the bed. Damn, his arm burned with pain. Heating pad, he told himself. Tylenol.

Beth would never date him, never speak to him again if he used oxy.

Would Beth ever date him at all?

Dave and Tom were stomping up the stairs and then working in his mom’s bathroom, muttering and guffawing and pounding and dragging.

   Theo wanted to disappear from the planet. He did not want to lie in here like a baby, whining about his poor wittle arm. He needed to do something practical. Something real.

He grabbed his cell, tucked it in the back pocket of his shorts, and opened his bedroom door.

He went to the bathroom. “Hey, guys, can I help you with anything else?”

Dave and Tom eyed him up and down.

“We can’t pay you without Mack’s permission,” Dave said.

“I don’t need paying. Just, I’ve got nothing scheduled today.”

“Great. See those metal pipes we’ve cut? Take them out to the truck. Then you can come back and help us move the toilet.”

Theo gathered up a bunch of pipes. The ends were jagged and they were small but not light. His arm hurt like hell, but he was grinning as he headed down the stairs.





twenty


Juliet put on the navy blue dress her mother had helped her choose in Sail. Her mother loaned her pearl earrings to Juliet, and with a touch of lipstick and a smidgen less eyeliner and mascara than she usually wore, Juliet looked, she was surprised to see, maybe kind of elegant. She and her mom had battled through clothing wars during her teenage years, when Juliet wanted to wear black, brown, or gray, and her mother kept giving her pastels that would delight a five-year-old. Now Juliet realized she had finally aged enough mentally and physically that she could accept her mother’s taste. There was nothing much she could do with her hair, but if she brushed it a certain way, she looked rather Audrey Hepburn-ish.

Her mother had the only full-length mirror in the house, so Juliet went into Lisa’s room to get the complete view. Turning this way and that in front of the mirror, Juliet remembered how she never wanted to dress like her mother and she absolutely never wanted to get married and have two children and be left alone to raise them. Juliet had determined she would be smart and focus on her work, on math and computers, digital black and white, nothing soft, fuzzy, and compromising.

   Yet this summer, something about this summer, was softening her or softening the world around her so that the air was gentler, and she was happier. Light was more sparkling and magic so close by. When she looked at herself in the mirror in the navy blue dress, she realized she looked very much like a woman that a handsome, educated man would want to spend time with. The knowledge surprised her and made her do something she hadn’t done since she was thirteen. She put her arms around herself and twirled around in a circle, laughing.