“HELLO, IS JEFF PULLINGS THERE?” In the background a loud, steady drumbeat. The person who had answered the phone was a girl. She asked Aisha to speak louder.
“I’m calling for Jeff Pullings!” Aisha yelled.
“You mean T-Bone?”
Aisha rolled her eyes. “Yes.”
“He’s busy.”
“Tell him it’s Aisha Gray.”
“Okay,” the girl said, telegraphing her reluctance.
Aisha waited with the phone to her ear. Did she really even want to do this? Too late to back out, of course, since she’d given the girl her name. But did she want to accept Jeff’s invitation, really? Or—
Suddenly the noise stopped. There was a scuffling sound and someone yelled, “You guys shut the — up; I have a call.
“Eesh? Is that really you?”
“Yes,” Aisha said, suddenly breathless. “I’m calling back because my dad said you left a message.”
“It’s good to hear your voice,” he said.
“It’s good to hear yours, too,” Aisha said. What else could she say? It wasn’t like it was any big deal to say it was good to hear someone’s voice.
“How are things in Maine?”
“Oh, you know. Same old stuff. School mostly. How are things in Boston?”
“Lonely,” he said.
“Lonely?” the word came out in a quiver.
“I’m all alone here in the big city.”
“Yeah, Boston is so much bigger than Chatham Island,” Aisha said. She rolled her eyes. Could she have thought of anything dumber to say?
“So, are you going to able to come down? I’d like you to be there. It’s a big deal, babe. Major stuff.”
“I know; I couldn’t believe it when my dad told me,” Aisha said with genuine enthusiasm. “You know what he said? He said you were opening for Applejack.”
Jeff laughed at that. “It’s a benefit for ALS. Tiësto and Afrojack together, and they wanted to include a local act. Which is me.”
“I’m really happy for you.”
“Yeah, me too. They actually pay. Not a lot, but it’s a start. Plus, I get picked up in a limo, which beats catching the yellow line.” Then, in a more serious voice, “By the way, Aisha, does your father know about me and you? He sounded like he wasn’t too happy I was calling.”
“No. He can never remember my friends’ names,” Aisha said. “And my mom never told him the other stuff. He gets upset by things like that.”
“Yeah,” Jeff said.
For a moment silence fell between them. Aisha felt the edge of sadness. Memories hovered at the boundaries of conscious awareness, threatening to take shape. Memories very good, and very bad.
“Anyway,” she said at last.
“Anyway,” he repeated.
“So, I’ll definitely try to come,” Aisha said.
“Don’t say you’ll try,” Jeff said. “Say you’ll be there.”
“Can I bring some friends?”
“Hey, the more people come, the better I like it,” he said. “How many tickets you want? Not too many, I hope. We are just the opening act. Most of the freebies go to Tijs. If you have too many friends, they’ll have to be on their own.”
“Tijs, huh?” Aisha laughed. “Now you’re on a first-name basis with him?”
Jeff echoed her laughter. “Oh, I’m down with all the big stars now.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay, maybe we haven’t actually met, and he has no idea who I am exactly, but I have talked to some guy who works for him. And he said, ‘Look, kid, just make sure you do a quick set, no encore, and get your equipment the hell off the stage.’ So you can see I have a huge amount of respect in the industry.”
“Yeah, but it’s a major, major step up from playing in the T station.”
“Definitely.”
“I’m proud of you, Jeff,” Aisha said sincerely.
“Will you be there?”
“I’ll be there.”
“And your friends?”
“Whoever wants to come, I guess,” Aisha said.
“Are these just friend friends? Or is there a friend?”
Aisha gulped. “Just friends,” she said automatically.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Jeff said, sounding relieved. “I better go. Everyone’s standing around here giving me the eye, like what am I doing when we should be rehearsing. See you there, babe.”
“Wait, Jeff—” But the line had gone dead. Before Aisha could tell him that . . . That what? That one of those friends was named Christopher and yes, he was much more than just a friend?
Yes, that’s what she was getting ready to tell Jeff. Only there hadn’t been time.
Nina lay on her back on the rug with two pillows behind her head. Her legs were propped on the side of Benjamin’s bed. Benjamin sat on the bed, leaning back against the wall. Nina held a large paperback book over her head and read aloud: “Round she went: the squared main and mizen yards lay parallel with the wind, the topsails shaking. Farther, farther; and now the wind was abaft her beam, and by rights her sternway should have stopped; but it did not; she was still traveling with remarkable speed in the opposite direction. He filled the topsails, gave her weather helm, and—Good grief, Benjamin, this book is full of this kind of sailing stuff!” Nina cried. “Abaft her beam? What does that even mean?”
“Abaft her beam,” Benjamin said placidly.
“Do I have to read all these dumb sailing parts? I mean, what’s with this writer anyway? The romantic parts he just skims over, but he has to give you absolutely every single detail of what sail you should use to sail a boat that doesn’t even exist anymore!”
“A frigate, not a boat, which you would know if you were paying attention to what you’re reading,” Benjamin pointed out.
“This is like ‘boy’ book to the maximum amount possible. Sailboats and cannons and all the women back on shore while the guys go off and have fun.”
“Well, I am a boy,” Benjamin said reasonably. “Girls read books about relationships and female things like feelings and emotions, while boys read books about cool stuff involving ships and cannons.”
Nina sat up. “I can’t believe you’d say anything so sexist. Girls don’t just care about relationships. We like other stuff, too. You sexist hound. You male, you.”
“Really?” Benjamin looked thoughtful. “I hadn’t realized that.” He grinned. “Then I guess you’ll enjoy reading me the rest of the chapter.”
“You think you’re so cute, don’t you?” Nina demanded. And he was. He was so cute. Even when he was smiling that annoying, superior smile, he was so cute. It was funny, because when she’d first started going out with Benjamin, she’d thought the cool thing about a boyfriend who couldn’t see would be that she could dress however she wanted, not wear makeup and so on.
But the most excellent thing about Benjamin was that she could look at him as long as she wanted, anytime she wanted, without him knowing it. She enjoyed watching his mouth when he smiled his ironic smile; and often, lying around his house, he’d wear a pair of old sweatpants that had been shrunk in the wash to the point where they would sometimes be tight as a second layer of skin, and that wasn’t bad to look at, either.
“Are you going to go on reading, or are you daydreaming?” Benjamin asked.
“Daydreaming,” Nina admitted.
“About what?”
“Let’s get back to reading,” she said. She finished reading the rest of the chapter, outrageously overemphasizing every mention of sails, and looking up each time to the reward of his smile.
“That’s the chapter,” Nina announced, closing the book. “Now it’s my turn.”
“Your turn for what?” Benjamin asked suspiciously.
Nina fumbled in her purse and produced her cell phone. “I just downloaded this excellent album . . .”
“Oh, no,” Benjamin groaned.
“And since your speakers are so much better than mine . . .” Nina went on.
“Just tell me it’s not rap, or Justin Timberlake or anything.”
“It’s Jack White. Even you will like it.”
“Want to bet?” he grumbled.
Nina sat down on the bed beside him. She kissed his lips, feeling amazingly bold, even after all the many times she’d kissed him.
“Okay,” he said. “You can play it, but only if you put on rubber gloves and a surgical mask before touching the holy stereo. Also, no touching any buttons except play, including the volume. It’s perfect right where it is.”
“Absolutely, cross my heart,” Nina vowed as she twisted the volume knob up and cranked the bass. Just as she hit play she heard the phone ringing in the kitchen. “You want me to get that?”
“Sure,” Benjamin said. “If you don’t mind. And bring a soda when you come back.”
Nina had reached the kitchen by the time the first blast came from the stereo, rattling the windows and vibrating the floor. Nina grinned happily and caught the phone on the third ring, just before the answering machine could engage.
“Yo, Passmore residence.”
“Who is this? Nina?” Aisha’s voice.
“Yeah, you got a problem with that?” Nina said, putting on a belligerent voice.
“Jeez, Nina, what are you doing over there, having a party? I can practically hear the music without using the phone.”
“Wherever I go, it’s a party,” Nina said. She searched the pantry shelf distractedly. Low-fat cookies. What was the point? “What’s up, Eesh?”
The music suddenly dropped precipitously in volume. “Now you’re in trouble!” Benjamin yelled.
“I was calling to see if you guys wanted to go to a concert on Halloween, down in Boston,” Aisha said.
“Sure,” Nina agreed instantly. “Who’s playing?”
“Tiësto and Afrojack. It’s a benefit.”
Nina held out the receiver and stared at it. “Excuse me? You say you’re Aisha? Aisha Gray? Aisha ‘hey, I don’t think elevator music is so bad’ Gray?” Nina banged the receiver several times on the countertop.
“I listen to music,” Aisha said defensively.
“Aisha, you are the living, breathing proof that not all black people have rhythm. You couldn’t keep the beat in time with Barney singing the ‘I love you, you love me’ song. You’re worse than Benjamin. At least he really loves music. Not always the right music, but music. Whereas you own what, three CDs? And two of them are of that computer-music crap.” She carried the receiver over to the refrigerator.
“Are you about done abusing me?” Aisha asked patiently.
“Mmm, I guess so. Hey, toaster strudel! Damn, it’s cherry. Who on earth buys cherry toaster strudel? In Pop-Tarts and toaster strudel it’s blueberry, maybe raspberry. Not cherry.”
“Can we focus here a little? I have this friend whose group is opening for Tiësto and Afrojack at the Orpheum. I have free tickets. Are you in or out?”
“In, duh. Like I would say no?” Nina said. “Benjamin, too.”
“Benjamin? At a rap concert? How are you going to get him there—use handcuffs?”
“Hey, we’ll be there,” Nina said. “I can’t believe you have a friend who’s in a band. I thought all you knew were math dweebs and techno-dorks.”
“I know some just plain dweebs and dorks, too,” Aisha pointed out. “After all, I know you.”
“If I didn’t have toaster strudel to soothe me, that would have hurt,” Nina said. “I’ll tell Zoey when she comes back, too, okay?”
“Sure. Like I wouldn’t ask her? The more people the better. Oh, by the way, since it’s on Halloween they’re telling people to come in costume.”
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” Nina said. “Costumes, a concert, a trip down to Boston. Life has regained its meaning.”