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THEN
When she’d come inside that night and roused Poppa, asleep in the living room (he made a point of waiting up for her whenever she was out, but he was usually asleep by the time she got in), and gone upstairs, Josh came out of his room to greet her in the hall. “Hey,” he said, looking at her seriously. “You okay?” She nodded, suddenly exhausted, and went to her room to brush her hair and wipe off her makeup. Josh followed her.
“That guy was gross, wasn’t he?”
“Don’t even talk about it.” Josh rubbed his eyes vigorously and then looked at her, his hair sticking up a little bit. “What was Mary talking about? What the hell happened at the mall?”
“Oh, it was no big deal. She was just giving Erik a hard time. Just a couple of losers, prowling.”
Josh sighed in frustration. “You better take care of yourself while I’m gone, Jojo.”
Joanna looked at him, a makeup wipe dangling in her hand. Usually, she rolled her eyes when he started talking like this, but he looked so earnest, all she could do was reassure him. “Josh, I will,” she told him.
“I mean it. I can’t wait to leave, but it’s…hard, leaving you here. You’ve been my baby sister my whole life, and all of a sudden, you’re not.”
“Josh—” He didn’t normally talk this freely. “I’ll be fine. You’ve taught me well,” she told him indulgently and patted his shoulder. She threw away the wipe and sat on her bed, settling her pillow on her lap and running her brush through her hair. “Besides, I have Erik now,” she teased.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “’Bout that. I wanted to talk to you about that fight we had last year.”
“He already told me. You were pissed that he was into me. It’s okay. I mean, it was dumb, but I just want everything to go back to normal.”
“Jo, that’s not all of it.” He groaned and put his head in his hands. “I really don’t want to be having this conversation with my baby sister, but…” He lifted his head and looked at her. “You have no idea how many guys joked about you being fair game when you finished eighth grade. I didn’t want them anywhere near you. That’s why we kept you and Mary so close your freshman year. And that’s why I can get so…nuts. Guys can be assholes. It didn’t even cross their minds that I might not want to hear the stuff they wanted to do with you. Or to you.” He shook his head. “So, when Erik said he was into you, I freaked out. I thought he’d already gone behind my back, and I lost it. I was sick of feeling like I had to watch everyone around you all the time. And…seeing that guy tonight brought it all back.”
Joanna stared at him, putting these new pieces of the puzzle into place. She’d had no idea of any of it.
“So, anyway, consider this my official apology for being an ass about him. And for getting in the way. Erik’s a good guy—he honestly is. If you have to be kissing anyone—” he made a face. “He’s probably the least awful choice.”
“Well—thanks for that endorsement,” Joanna laughed, her head still reeling from the conversation. “If it makes you feel any better, he’s really quite an extraordinary kisser.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
Josh jumped up and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Okay! That’s my cue to go. Write about it in your diary or whatever.” She laughed as he hurried out of the room, but when she laid down a few minutes later, she had trouble settling down. A multitude of images swirled around her head, competing for space: RJ’s sneer as he held her and Mary tight; rage slashed across Erik’s and Josh’s faces; the mindless, animal lust on Erik’s face as he writhed on top of her; his softness when he kissed her goodnight; the earnestness on Josh’s face during his apology and explanations. Not for the first time, she felt like her fundamental position in the universe had transformed from the inside out the last couple of months, until she could hardly recognize the world or her place in it. It was not an unpleasant notion—these experiences were what would feed the stories she wanted to spend her life telling—but it was hard to get used to.
+++
Josh left for Brazil about six weeks after the night at the carnival, the night that, in her mind, her relationship with Erik had become a real one. Not just a high school fling, but something with heft. Something she could wear on her back, like a second skin, that kept her tethered.
Poppa, Erik, Josh, and Joanna got lobster rolls at Josh’s favorite roadside stand on Route 1 that afternoon. There had a been a big goodbye party on the beach the night before—Mary had drunk too much and finally professed her feelings to Josh and then thrown up on his feet (in the surf, so maybe it hadn’t mattered too much, Mary hoped)—but tonight was just for the four of them. They sat on the picnic tables dotting the coastline and threw leftover chunks of their buns to the seagulls, ignoring the Don’t Feed the Birds! sign by the stand’s window. Poppa was quiet while they ate, squinting as he looked out over the water for long stretches. His hand was never far from Josh’s shoulder or from jiggling his knee affectionately. Josh, for his part, was bubbling with enthusiasm. He’d been in occasional contact with the man who would be his supervisor, and he already knew tidbits about each of the children. Erik kept asking him how to say phrases in Portuguese, each one more ridiculous—“How do you say I want my banana?” “How do you say I wet my bed?” “How do you say The hippo sleeps in the daytime?”—and laughing at Josh’s stilted translations and terrible accent. And Joanna watched. Her sunglasses shielded her prying eyes, so she watched her three men with impunity, wanting to burn these moments into her mind. When Josh came home, the dynamics of their little foursome would be entirely different, having shuffled and re-shuffled in the meantime. She didn’t know what it would look like. This was the last time they would be as they had always been.
It was a quiet ride to the airport. Josh drummed his fingers on his lap, nodding his head to a beat only he could hear and looking out the window. Joanna wondered how he was feeling. She watched him from the backseat, Erik’s fingers splayed lightly across her thigh.
The four of them made their way through the ticket line, through security, and into the gate to say goodbye. When they got there, with a few minutes to spare, Josh set his backpack and duffel bag down on one of the black padded chairs and faced them, his hands held out wide.
“Well—” he said, a smile spreading across his face. “Who’s first?”
Poppa wrapped his arms around Josh’s back and the two of them slapped each other’s backs a bunch of times. Poppa cleared his throat and stepped back. They shook hands and Poppa, looking at Josh firmly, said, “We love you, Josh. Do good down there, all right?”
“Thanks, Poppa,” Josh said in an uncharacteristically serious voice. Then, he cleared his throat and turned to Erik. He smirked and said, with full irony, “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.” They laughed and shared a back-slapping hug of their own. And then, Josh pulled Joanna into a bear hug. “If you hurt him,” he whispered into her hair, “I’ll tell Poppa what was really going on that time I picked you up from Mary’s house last year.” Joanna, adequately warned, nodded into his chest and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears. Too soon, a voice came over the loudspeaker to announce boarding. Josh had to gently disentangle Joanna’s arms from around his waist so he could pick up his bags. He slung one over each shoulder, gave them a mock salute and a grin, and then turned and walked away, throwing a peace sign over his shoulder.
He’s so handsome, Joanna thought as she watched him go. There he was, setting off on his first big adventure, no fear or trepidation at all. He handed his boarding pass to the agent, grinned at the three of them once more, and he was gone.
Joanna cried, silently, most of the way home.
The house was quiet when she went to bed that night.
+++
Josh called home the next day, exhausted but happy. The connection wasn’t great, and it was too expensive to talk for long, but he was able to tell them a little bit about his flight, his room, and the kids. Joanna drank in his voice, sounding much the same in spite of the crackling over the wires. Te amo, he said before hanging up. She thought that was beautiful and whispered it to herself dozens of times over the next few days, enjoying the way the words fell out of her mouth.
He called again the next week and the next, telling them about the kids and his work each time.
The next week, they didn’t get a phone call and Joanna felt a trickle of fear down in her gut.
The day after that, they got a call—this time, from the director of the orphanage. Josh had been driving a vanful of kids to the beach; he’d come around a curve too fast, over-corrected, and crashed into a tree. He, and two of the children, were dead.
One week later, on a bright and crisp Tuesday morning, in the middle of a calculus test that Joanna was already failing, a plane hit the North Tower, and the world outside her small, protective bubble came rushing in with a vengeance.
I cannot even find the right words! I am enjoying this story.
Your writing is compelling and beautiful.