The Second Summer of the Sisterhood Part 37

We are born not once, but again and again.

-William Charles

Bridget had wanted to carry her bags the quarter mile to the bus station, but when Billy suddenly appeared next to her on the sidewalk and took the two heavy ones, she wasn't mad.

"I wish you weren't going," he said.

"They need me at home," she said. "We'll see each other around, though."

She looked at Billy standing there in the bus station, holding her bags, wishing she weren't going. He liked her, she felt sure. She watched him for signs of physical yearning. She wanted that, didn't she? She liked herself enough again to feel like she deserved it.

But she wondered. Did she really want that? Hadn't she had enough boys look at her that way? Would she partly hate him if he changed the way he liked her because she was pretty and blond?

Anyway, he wasn't looking at her like that. He was looking at her like she was Bee, who he'd known since he was six. He was looking at her the way he looked at her when she screamed at him on the soccer field. Wasn't he?

He touched the soft underpart of her wrist.

Or was he?

She'd thought the Bee she'd been when she was six and the Bee she was now were a world apart, separated by her tragedies. She'd thought the Bee who was his friend and the Bee who was his potential crush were different and opposite girls. Now she wasn't sure what she thought.

But when he kissed her full on her lips, he sent a tingle from her hair to her toenails, and she knew she liked it.

In a flash of wonderment she saw firm, continuous ground under her feet, stretching from back then to right now and on and on as far as her eyes could take her.

It was a pretty weird idea, actually. But Carmen had always liked things that went around and came around. Her mother was out with David being happily ever after. Carmen had done her penance, spending her days worrying about Lena and watching her mother be joyful. She'd had a lot of time to devote to it too, since the Morgans were spending these last two weeks of the summer at the beach.

Porter had left a couple of messages the week before inviting her to some jock party in Chevy Chase. So Carmen figured maybe now that she'd gotten herself straightened out about her mom, she could start to like him for real.

He sounded surprised when she called him and asked him out on such late notice. But he did say yes and offer to take her to Dizzy's Grill, so that meant he didn't completely hate her. Or maybe he did hate her and was sneakily planning to present her with the bill at the end of the night. Carmen made a mental note to stick an extra twenty in her wallet.

She put on the Traveling Pants for the first time since the fateful night when Christina had fallen in love with David and Carmen had not fallen in love with Porter. Tonight, who knew? With the Pants, this night might very well be fateful too.

She was just plucking a stray eyebrow hair when the phone rang.

According to caller ID, she was being called by a pay phone at Union Station.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Hi. It's Paul."

She was pretty sure Paul was supposed to be on his way from Charleston, where he'd been hanging out at home for two weeks, back to school in Philadelphia.

"Hi. What are you doing?"

"Missing my train."

"Oh, no. What happened?"

"I got lost on the subway."

Carmen let out a hooting laugh. "You didn't!"

"I didn't."

"Oh."

"I got a ride with a friend as far as D.C., and then I did miss my train."

"Oh."

Carmen considered what this meant. This meant Paul had nowhere to stay tonight and she would need to look after him.

"Uhhh." She tapped the phone, thinking. "Meet me at Dizzy's Grill on Wisconsin and Woodley. Just whenever you get there. Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Good. See you there." Poor Porter. This was going to be a strange date, what with the extra guy and all.

Carmen had finally gotten her tweezers around the offending hair for the second time when the phone rang again.

"Jeez!" she shouted, throwing the tweezers at the wall.

This call came from Lena's house. Was Lena home? Carmen s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone from its holder.

"Lena!"

"No, it's Effie." Effie was whispering.

"You're home?"

"Yeah, like an hour ago."

"How's Lena?"

Carmen could feel her heart beating in her temples. Lena was home. Lena would need her. Well, that was that. She hoped Paul and Porter would enjoy each other's company.

Effie paused. "Mmmmm. Can't tell."

"Is she walking? Is she talking?"

"Yes and no."

"What do you mean?"

"Yes walking, no talking."

"Oh. I'll come right over."

"No, you need to take her out."

"I do?"

"Yeah," Effie said. "That's what she needs."

"Ooookay. You sure about that?" Effie was a boss and Carmen was a boss. They didn't always mix.

"Yes. Half her room is covered with letters. The other half with pictures. That's how it is. We left in a hurry. You need to take her out and distract her, and I need to put all that stuff away. Like down the garbage disposal. Ha ha."

Carmen was silent. Effie never cared if n.o.body else laughed at her jokes.

"Did you talk to Tibby?" Carmen asked.

"Not home."

"Okay, Ef. I'll be over to pick her up in fifteen minutes." Carmen smacked the phone down.

She shook her head as she raced around her room, stuffing her things into her purse. She would just have to bring Lena to Dizzy's Grill also. That was the only thing to do.

And anyway, crazy Carmen's date with two guys at the same time would be nothing if not distracting.

A long time afterward, Carmen tried to replay every nuance of that strange meeting. She wanted to pinpoint exactly when it happened. How it happened. Why it happened. Whether it happened.

Carmen was wearing the Pants. She was holding hands with Lena. Lena was wearing soft flannel drawstring pants and a shirt. From three feet away it looked like a regular white T-shirt, straight and simple. But if you got closer, it had this very small ruffle running along the neckline. It had struck Carmen right away. The T-shirt was cla.s.sic Lena, but the ruffle was not.

Lena looked particularly thin. She was thin from torment, but Carmen couldn't help envying it anyway. Lena's eyes were large and light-filled and seemed to be focused on some vague middle distance, not here, not there. She blinked and looked around the restaurant like a newborn. Her skin seemed tender and raw, and her eyes seemed as if they were new to seeing. And Carmen felt bad dragging her into this bustling, smoky, overstimulating scene. It was no place for a newborn.

Carmen sat Lena down at the front of the restaurant, the waiting part. She strode into the dining room, and found Porter and Paul each waiting for her at his own table. First she went to Porter. He stood up and smiled upon seeing her.

"Hi." He kissed her on the lips, but she was too distracted to a.n.a.lyze it.

"Hey, listen. This night has gotten sort of complicated." She grimaced apologetically. "My friend-well, my stepbrother actually-missed his train tonight and he has nowhere to go so I invited him to come along." Tentatively she touched her jaw. "Is that okay?"

He gave her a look that said, Does it matter if it's okay?

"And also." Carmen rushed right along. "My friend Lena? You know her. She got back from Greece tonight and she's kind of ... well, a disaster, actually," Carmen said, lowering her voice, "and I can't leave her alone, so she's here too." Carmen raised her shoulders plaintively. "Sorry."

Porter nodded. Carmen figured there wasn't much she could do at this point to surprise or disappoint him.

By this time, Paul had spotted her. She went to him. "Hi. Come on over."

He followed.

"Porter, this is Paul. Paul, this is Porter," she said when they were within earshot.

"Hey." Porter raised one hand like an Indian chief.

She seemed to be arranging a lot of people's lives this evening. She pointed to the table where Porter had been sitting. "We can all fit here, right?"

Porter shrugged. "Sure."

"Okay. Sit. I'll go get Lena."

Paul was looking a little sh.e.l.l-shocked. He wasn't very social. He was probably wishing he'd stayed on a bench at Union Station.

On a chair at the front, Lena was watching her hands as the world spun around her. "Len?"

She looked up.

"Sorry to drag you around tonight, but we're having dinner with two guys you don't know." What was the use of sugar-coating it? If Lena was going to mutiny, now was the time.

Instead of crawling under a chair, as Carmen half expected, Lena got up and followed obediently. This worried Carmen more than the all-out kick-and-scream scenario.

The two of them were walking toward the table. It was around then that it happened. For some reason, Paul and Porter were sitting on the same side of the table, facing the girls as they walked over. It looked sort of comical, in a way, these two very large boys sitting side by side. She couldn't exactly say how Porter looked at the time, because she was watching Paul.

This was when the clocks stopped and the place got quiet and the colors faded into sepia. The air felt nostalgic, even though nothing had happened yet.

Paul looked at Lena. Millions of boys had looked at Lena, but no one had ever looked at her like that.