See You at Harry's(47)

“We want to rent two tuxes,” Holden says.

Suit man claps his hands together. “Is this for the homecoming dance at the high school?”

“Yeah,” Gray says unexcitedly.

Suit man steps back and looks both Holden and Gray up and down again, squinting one eye.

“I bet you’re a thirty-six regular,” he says, sizing up Holden. “And you’re about a forty-two. I’ll be right back. I’m Manny, by the way!” he calls from behind a rack.

Holden gushes at Gray. “Should we get matching?” he asks.

“No way,” Gray says coolly. “That’s so gay.”

Holden laughs and elbows him.

“OK, here we are, guys,” the salesman says. “And which of these studs is your man, honey?” he asks me.

I snort and Holden laughs again. Gray smirks. “I’m his sister,” I say, pointing at Holden.

“She’s our fashion consultant,” Holden adds.

“I see.” Manny holds out a jacket for each of them. “You boys get sent on a mission from your girls? That’s nice they trust you. Most girls come with their boyfriends and make all the decisions.”

Holden and Gray don’t say anything. Gray seems to shrug off the comment as no big deal, but Holden looks like he’s trying to decide if he should tell Manny the truth. They button up their jackets, and Manny steps back to inspect them. “Yes,” he says, nodding at Gray. “No,” he says, shaking his finger at Holden. “I’ll be right back.”

Gray walks over to the mirror to check his jacket. “It looks great,” Holden says. “Let me try it.”

“It would be way too big for you,” Gray says. He turns this way and that, checking himself out. I’m starting to wonder what Holden likes about him. He’s nice enough, but beyond the cool car and expensive clothes, what else is there?

“Here ya go, bud,” Manny says to Holden when he comes back. Holden trades jackets with him. The new one definitely looks better.

“Let me get you guys some dress shirts to put on under those so you can get the full effect. Then I’ll measure you for pants.”

Holden and Gray disappear into the changing rooms with their shirts. In the far corner of the shop, I see a single rack of gowns of every color imaginable. I go over and start sliding them across the rack, checking each one. The silky material feels so fine and fancy. I try to imagine myself in one of these, holding someone’s hand.

“Sorry, hon. Those aren’t for sale. We just use them for the mannequins.”

“Oh.” I blush and quickly pull my hand away from the fabric.

Back by the big mirror, Holden and Gray strut around in their tuxes.

“Coupla studs, huh?” Manny says, elbowing me.

“Yeah,” I say.

Holden winks at me. But so far, that’s about the first time he’s even noticed me since we got here. I don’t know why he wanted me to come so much if he was just going to ignore me.

When they decide on their styles, Manny asks them what color their dates’ dresses are, and if they want matching cummerbunds and ties. Again Holden looks at Gray. Maybe he’s waiting for Gray to tell the guy the truth. But Gray just clears his throat and says, “We want black ties. No cummerbunds.”

“Classy,” Manny says.

Holden frowns and fiddles with the collar on his shirt. I wonder if he’s thinking what I am: Phony.

“Let me write all this up for you while you change, and then you can give me your deposits,” Manny tells them.

“I’ll be outside,” I say. I leave them in the store and stand out on the sidewalk. The street is busy and smells like car fumes and Dumpster. I look inside the shop window at the mannequins on display. The man mannequin holds the lady mannequin’s hand. The lady wears a pink prom dress. They smile in their permanent way, as if they will never have anything happen to them to wipe the happiness away. It’s sort of how Charlie looked. Always happy. Never worried. Even when he was grouchy, he still had that happy way about him. Just like Charlie in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Life was a wonder.

I reach forward and put my hand on the glass window and remember the scene in the book when Charlie gets to ride in the great glass elevator, rising up above everything and everyone, like a shooting star going in the wrong direction. Tears begin to drip down the side of my face faster than I can wipe them away. I realize I haven’t cried yet today. And I’m not sure if I cried yesterday. And now I can’t stop.

When Holden and Gray come out of the store, Holden is beaming. Gray is Mr. Cool. I let my hair fall across my face so they can’t see I’m crying. But I don’t need to worry because neither of them even looks at me.

We get in the car, and Gray cranks the radio. I don’t ask where we’re going next. Five minutes later, they pull up to Harry’s and I climb out.

“Tell Mom I’ll be home in time for dinner!” Holden says happily. As soon as I climb out, the car takes off.

It’s sunny and a bit warm. I walk to the picnic tables and sit down. I find our names and trace Charlie’s again with my finger. Over by the loading area, I can see the delivery truck. My dad asked Dwayne, Trevor, and Gil to paint over Charlie, but the paint they used was the wrong kind, and Charlie’s face is starting to show through. His messy smile.