The Wish(37)

“Your parents told you that?”

“They didn’t have to. I know their anniversary, and I know my birthday. The math isn’t hard.”

Wow, I thought. I wondered if my aunt knew all this.

“How old was your mom?”

“Nineteen.”

It didn’t seem like a significant age difference but it was, even if he didn’t say so. After all, at nineteen you’re a legal adult and not in high school anymore. Instead, once he finished with the next strand, he said, “Let’s step back and see how we’re doing.”

From a distance, it was easier to see the gaps and other places where the lights were too close together. At the tree, we both adjusted the strands, stepped back, then adjusted some more, the scent of pine filling the room as the branches moved. Strains of Bing Crosby played in the background as flickering light fell across Bryce’s features. In the silence, I wondered what he was really thinking and whether he was as accepting as he seemed.

Once we finished, we strung the lights on the top half of the tree. Because he was taller, he did pretty much everything while I stood and watched. When he was done, we both stepped farther away again and studied our accomplishment.

“What do you think?”

“It’s pretty,” I answered, even though my mind was still a million miles away.

“Do you know if your aunt has a star or an angel for the top?”

“I have no idea. And…thanks.”

“For what?”

“For not asking questions. For being so nice about the reason I’m in Ocracoke. For agreeing to tutor me.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “Believe it or not, I’m glad you’re here. Ocracoke can get kind of boring in the winter.”

“You don’t say.”

He laughed. “I guess you’ve noticed that, huh?”

For the first time since he’d arrived, I smiled. “It’s not all bad.”

*



Aunt Linda and Gwen showed up about a minute later and oohed and aahed over the lights before pouring glasses of eggnog. The four of us sipped while adding tinsel to the tree along with the ornaments and the angel for the top, which had been stored in the hall closet. It didn’t take long until the tree was finished. Bryce slid it back into place before adding more water to the base. Afterward, Aunt Linda plied us with cinnamon rolls she’d bought at the store, and though they weren’t as fresh as her biscuits, we ate them with gusto at the table.

Even if it wasn’t terribly late, it was probably time for Bryce to go, since Aunt Linda and Gwen had to wake up so early. Thankfully, he seemed to realize it and brought his plate to the sink, then said goodbye before we started toward the door.

“Thanks again for having me over,” he said, reaching for the knob. “That was a lot of fun.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant decorating the tree or spending time with me was fun, but I felt a surge of relief that I’d told him the truth about myself. And that he’d been more than kind about all of it.

“I’m glad you came.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his voice quiet, the words strangely sounding like both a promise and an opportunity.

*



“I told him,” I said to Aunt Linda later, after Gwen had left. We were in the living room, moving the empty boxes to the hall closet.

“And?”

“He already knew. He’d figured it out.”

“He’s…very bright. The whole family is.”

When I set the box on the floor, my jeans pinched my waist and I already knew my other pants were even tighter. “I think I’m going to need some bigger clothes.”

“I was going to suggest that we do some shopping after church on Sunday for just that reason.”

“You could tell?”

“No. But it’s about that time. I brought a lot of young pregnant girls shopping when I was a nun.”

“Is it possible to buy pants that don’t make my situation so obvious? I mean, I know everyone’s going to know, but…”

“It’s fairly easy to hide in winter because sweaters and jackets can cover a lot. I doubt anyone will see your baby bump until March. Maybe even April, and once it does show, you can always keep a lower profile then, if that’s what you want.”

“Do you think other people have figured it out? Like Bryce did? And that they’re talking about me?”

My aunt seemed to choose her words carefully. “I think there’s some curiosity about why you’re here, but no one has asked me directly. If they do, I’ll just tell them that it’s personal. They’ll know not to press.”

I liked the way she was watching out for me. Gazing toward the open door of my room, I thought about what I’d read earlier in the Sylvia Plath book. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you ever feel like you’re all alone?”

She lowered her gaze, an odd expression on her face. “All the time,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

*



I’m not going to bore you with the details of that first week, because they were pretty much the same, varying only by subject. I finished rewriting my paper and Bryce had me rewrite it a second time before he was finally satisfied. I slowly but steadily began to catch up on my homework, and on Thursday, we spent most of the day studying for Friday’s geometry test. By then, I knew my brain would be too tired to take it after my aunt got back from work, so she came home from the shop to proctor the exam at eight the next morning, before Bryce arrived.