Page 14 of How to Hide in Plain Sight
Breathe, I thought.Don’t let it drag you back under.
I closed my eyes, exhaling and forcing myself back into reality. When I opened them again, I glanced over at Manuel and Karma. The two of them seemed to be holding a conversation with their eyes. The sight made me nervous. Since when had they become so chummy? I mean, they had always been friendly, considering that Manuel was practically part of our family…but this? Texting? What did they eventalkabout?
When I think about what Manuel might have told her…
“So.” Clarence’s head popped down between us, making me jump. His voice was low. “What do we think of the new girl?”
I knew exactly who he meant. Grateful for the distraction, I turned to look at Helene. She sat at the opposite end of the table, chatting easily with Mom. Beneath the table, her hand was laced with Taz’s.
Helene had this structured glamour. A beauty in parts, each so distinct that it should have belonged to a different person: long lush hair curled into knots that swung along her spine with a kind of gentle violence; a thin jaw, pointed and delicate, like the elbow of a doll. She spoke in abrupt, tightly measured sentences that etched themselves from her mouth in halting swoops, like lines from a printing press. Her default reaction—to anything, shocking or otherwise—was to gasp. To widen her eyes just a little. Just enough to show you she was listening.
For his part, Taz seemed utterly transfixed with his bride-to-be. He doted upon her shamelessly. Opened doors. Rearranged furniture to suit her movements. Built his dinner plate to be an exact match of hers. Then added two or three scoops more to ensure he always had a heavier meal. And he did it all so subtly. Only those of us who knew him before could have spotted his behavior. He was loving her quietly. Logically.
Under her breath, Karma whispered to Shelly, “If I ever start copying your dinner plate, please divorce me.”
I laughed at the same time Manuel did. Our eyes darted to each other, then looked quickly away.
I scanned the table for something—anything—to distract me. My eyes landed on Speedy and Caleb, who were engaged in quiet, conspiratorial conversation. Dad had one arm slung over the back of Mom’s chair and was absentmindedly rubbing small circles on her back. He leaned in close to Caleb, nodding as he listened to hiseldest son. It was a familiar sight; Dad had Caleb at only twenty years old, which makes him closer in age to our father than he is to me. They’re as much friends as they are father and son.
I watched Caleb’s mouth, trying to decipher what he was saying. I thought I saw him whisperClarence, and maybebelieve that story, but I couldn’t be sure. What were they speaking about? Had Dad gone to Caleb for advice about Clarence?
I eyed them enviously. Dad would never come to me in that way. Never. To him, I was still just a child.
I tried to focus on their conversation, straining my ears for whatever I could pick up. I would take just a sentence. Just aword. Anything to distract me from the heat of the chestnut-brown gaze I still felt beating into me, even with my eyes turned firmly away.
—
THE WEEK BEFORE THE WEDDING,Taz texted our family group chat and said,What’s everyone’s favorite food?
In New York, whenever I see a text arrive in our family chat, I click it right away and leave the chat open, phone propped up against my laptop or the mug that always rests just to the right. I like to watch the messages roll in, to see the conversation unfold in real time.
CALEB:Fettuccini alfredo.
CLARENCE:Deep dish with sausage & roni. Duh.
KARMA:Pulled pork with Sweet Baby Ray’s. Sue me.
CLARENCE:SBR’s is an abomination.
KARMA:You’re an abomination.
I hear each of my siblings in their texts, so clear it almost feels like they’re right there, right next to me. As if we’re all sitting around a table together.
MOM:Does mint chocolate chip ice cream count as a food?
CLARENCE:If it does, then I’m changing my food to dry martinis.
DAD:New phone. Lost contacts. Who is this?
I watch them riff, but I never respond. I’ve tried. It doesn’t work. I write and rewrite, read and reread, pick my words apart until they sound robotic, all capital letters and perfectly placed commas.Little Boose Beck, I imagine my siblings texting each other off to the side.The Family Robot.
But not then. As the wedding approached, I became more and more aware of just how cut off from my life in New York I would be. I was taking vacation for the first time since I started working. My schedule would be completely disrupted, tossed into Lake Huron and left to drown. I needed to know that I would at least still have access to email, for God’s sake.
ELIOT:will there be wifi on the island?
I didn’t think about the repercussions of sending that text until it was already too late.
CLARENCE:oh shit, gup is alive??
