Those Summer Nights, page 17
“Hannah?” Brie asks, looking over at me in confusion.
“Um.” The lump in my throat feels like it’ll be lodged there forever.
Seriously, why am I doing this now? I’ve held a grudge against my best friend for a full year. I can’t hold out a little longer? These preteen boys are doused in way too much body spray, and it’s going to be our turn to order soon, and yet I’m about to drop an emotional sledgehammer.
But I can’t stop the words from coming out:
“I miss you, Brie.”
Brie seems startled at first, her eyes widening in response, but as I continue to speak, there’s a deep softness there. “I know…,” I say. “I know last year was a shit show. And I messed up in a lot of ways. And well, you know, you messed up too, so, but anyways…”
The preteen boys have stopped talking and are definitely listening to me. This is perfect.
“Crap. Um. Well—”
“Hannah,” Brie, thank god, interrupts me. She clears her throat, tucks a braid behind her ear. “I want to talk about this too. But the concession stands…”
I give a quick laugh. “Not the best venue. I know.”
“Yeah.”
She gives me a warm smile. My stomach is in absolute knots. One of the boys gives us a weird look, then mutters something to his friend. I have the distinct urge to shove him.
I’m staring down at my feet when Brie asks, “Can we talk about it tomorrow? Maybe after Bubbie’s unveiling?”
Her proposal sounds like an awful day, going to the cemetery and then dissecting our relationship.
But I think of that checklist on my fridge. I think of how my parents want me to do better. Need me to do better. I think of how I need that for myself as well.
I nod and say, “Okay.”
* * *
After scarfing down an assortment of hot dogs, nachos, Twinkies, sour straws, and soda, we head to the bowling alley, where we load up on more snacks: popcorn, M&Ms, and slushees. And then we lay claim to the best lane in the alley—the wall lane on the left. The one on the right is gross because it’s by the bathrooms.
Lucy and Riley request bumpers, so instead of trying to play seriously, Brie and I decided to have fun bumping our balls off them in increasingly more chaotic patterns. We make bets using M&Ms about how many times we can get the ball to careen back and forth while still knocking down more than half the pins. The girls turn out to be very good at this newly established sport and end up with all the M&Ms except for the orange ones, which apparently, according to Lucy, taste like “regret.”
She’s not wrong.
The time flies by faster than it has all summer, and before I know it, the girls have to go home, and we’re all saying our goodbyes.
“See you tomorrow,” Brie says. My heart skips as she gives my hand a quick squeeze.
“BYE, HANNAH!” Riley shouts.
“We love you!” Lucy adds as they both give me tight hugs.
“Love y’all too,” I say, hugging them back.
As they leave out the double doors, I take a steadying breath. Tomorrow will be more than difficult. The friendship autopsy with Brie is intimidating, but it feels like nothing compared to Bubbie’s unveiling.
I take a deep sigh and begin cleaning up the remnants of trash at our bowling lane, sorting out the plastic to recycle. I wish I were working today so I could distract myself. At least when I get home, I can spend time with Figgy. As I finish up, I catch someone out of the corner of my eye.
Patrick.
He’s walking through the alley doors, Bonanza shirt uncharacteristically rumpled. He’s holding a Red Bull in one hand and a stuffed bag from his favorite bakery in the other, signs of a hangover if I’ve ever seen one. As he turns into the employee locker room, my pulse picks up, and a sick feeling lodges in the back of my throat.
I have to break it off with him. That’s something I have to face.
Because I like Ethan.
I like Ethan’s smile. And his drawings. And his forearms.
I like that he took me bowling. And that he told me about his parents. And that I think about him when he’s not around.
I breathe in, then out.
It’s not right to continue things with Patrick when I’m thinking this much about another guy. Even if there’s no chance of anything happening with the other guy because he’s my brother’s best friend, and I’m deluded for simply having these feelings.
Patrick and I aren’t technically dating, but we have made out all over Bonanza. The relationship merits a clear end. I’m not going to be a coward who ghosts him. He deserves more than that.
I take a steadying breath, make my way to the locker room. I find Patrick sitting on a bench, biting into one of his favorites, a sweet bun filled with red bean paste, while scrolling through his phone.
“Hey,” I say.
He looks up at me, eyes lightly rimmed with red. “Hey, yourself.”
“Um.” I clear my throat. “Fun night?”
He sips his Red Bull. “Something like that.”
Silence beats between us. I rock back on my heels, unsure how to do this.
And then he speaks again, his voice soft. “It’s okay, Hannah. Just say it.”
My cheeks tinge red. He’s letting me off easy. That’s nice of him. “Um.” I take a steadying breath. “Sorry. I haven’t done this before. Um. Look, you’re great, obviously, but…” My fingers twist together. “I don’t think it’s going to work out between us. I’m sorry.”
Patrick nods, once, twice. Then he throws me a gut-punch. “It’s that Ethan guy, right? You like him?”
How does he know that when I just figured it out myself?
My first instinct is to deny it.
But why lie? What good will it do?
“Yeah,” I admit. “How’d you know?”
He shrugs. “Whenever I looked at you, you’d be looking at him.”
“Oh.” I breathe out the word, heart pounding.
Patrick smirks softly. “You’re too much of a good girl for me, anyways.”
Not exactly true. Patrick just doesn’t understand that last summer I was so bad I’m in repentance mode, like a yearlong Yom Kippur.
But it’s easier to let him have it. “Maybe so,” I agree. “Um, I hope we can still be friends?”
Patrick rubs the back of his neck. I can’t help but notice his bicep flex as he does so. The boy really is that good-looking.
“Don’t stress, Klein,” he tells me. “We’re all good.”
* * *
The conversation with Patrick was unpleasant, but it could have gone a lot worse, and I’m glad everything is out in the open. He left right after to go help Tony with the go-karts, and I stayed behind to practice some deep breathing, which did not help. As I exit the locker room to finally go home, I spot the Golden Oldies settling into their favorite lane.
The sight makes my heart ache a little. In her later years, Bubbie preferred books and symphonies to sports, but I’m sure she would have fit right in with this group, sending them into stitches of laughter with a single story. She could have had so many more good years.
I decide to see if they need anything before I leave, my good deed for the day. As I approach, I overhear their conversation.
“And that’s when I told him,” Ginger says, “if he wants to sleep in the house tonight, he’s going to have to tie up that loose cow first.”
Tears of laughter are coming out of Tashia’s eyes. “Imagine!” she hollers. “Bringing home a cow to save on milk money. You lived in the city, for goodness’ sake.”
“Men.” Madeline shakes her head. “Never thinking.”
“At least not with the right body part,” Ginger adds.
The ladies break into more laughter, and that’s when Ginger spots me. “Hannah, dear!” she says. “What a treat!”
“Y’all need anything?” I ask. “I’m not working today, but I’m happy to help.”
“We need this ball return fixed,” Adele replies.
“Sure!” I say.
“No, no,” Madeline cuts in. “No working if you’re not getting paid. Go grab Ethan to help out. I see him right over there. He has such a handsome face. His parents must be proud.”
Ethan?
Oy.
I thought he had the day off as well, but I turn and find him organizing shoes behind the counter. My heart rate picks up, pulsing in my ears.
I’d like to know the exact second Ethan got so good-looking. Not just -looking. Hot. His hands practically dwarf the shoes as he sorts them into bins. His shoulders seem to grow broader by the day.
It couldn’t have happened overnight. It only feels that way because I was gone so long.
“Hannah?” Madeline prods.
I cough into my elbow. “No problem. Be right back.”
I’ll just grab Ethan. No problem at all. Thank god Patrick left.
I take a quick breath as I approach, my pulse still thudding away.
Ethan looks up from his sorting and smiles widely. “Hey there, bowling finalist!”
“Hi!” I squeak out.
My cheeks warm. Normal, Hannah. Just be normal. He doesn’t know you like him.
“Um,” I say. “The Golden Oldies need you to fix the ball return. Also, Madeline says you have a handsome face. Think she’s hitting on you?” I joke.
Ethan laughs. “Nah, they’re trying to set me up with their granddaughters. Apparently one of them even goes to our shul? Naomi. Do you know her?”
Suddenly, my jaw is very tense. “Nope.” I pop out the word. “Pretty name, though.”
I don’t like the idea of him going on a date with Naomi. What if they eat bagels and lox at Schulman’s Deli and then fall in love and have a million babies?
Okay, help. Serious help.
Ethan’s eyes linger on me a bit too long, like he’s trying to puzzle something out.
“Come on.” I nod my head toward the Golden Oldies. “They’re waiting.”
He puts down the shoes and follows me to their lane. Madeline’s gold bracelets jangle as she waves at Ethan. Her blond hair looks brighter than ever today. She must have just gotten it touched up at the salon. “Oh, there you are!” she calls. “I haven’t seen you in days!”
“Yeah,” Adele adds. Her hair is cropped short. A giant peacock brooch is pinned to her shirt. “What gives? You don’t like us anymore?”
The other ladies chime in with their own mingled disgruntlements.
“Sorry, sorry.” Ethan holds up his hands. “You know how chaotic this place gets. Plus, I’m on shoe duty.”
They make sour faces at this.
Ginger plugs her nose. “So you’re bringing a stench over to us?”
“Nah,” Ethan replies. “I don’t smell. Right, Hannah?”
He leans closer to me, as if he wants me to sniff him. There’s a dangerously playful look in his eyes. Since I refuse to back down from a challenge, I lean forward and give him a strong sniff.
Damn it. Of course he smells amazing.
“We’re all good,” I say, cheeks flaming. “He smells fine.”
Oh god, why is there a sparkle in Madeline’s eye now? This is bad. These ladies can whiff out a crush in a hundred-mile radius, and here I am, serving a giant steaming one up to them on a silver platter.
“Erm.” I tug on the collar of my shirt. “Can I get you guys anything while he fixes the return? Waters? Saltines? Peanut M&Ms?”
Adele pats the seat next to her with two hard thumps. “Sit down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, and sit next to her.
“You, over here,” Ginger tells Ethan.
“Gotta fix the return first.” He grins. “That is why you called me over, right?”
She waves her hand. “Fine, fine.”
Sixty seconds later, the return is running. Ethan dutifully shuffles over and sits next to her so we’re facing across from each other. Ginger smiles. “Now isn’t this nice?”
Ethan laughs. “Yeah, but I’m supposed to be working.”
Madeline waves her hand. “Oh, but this is all part of the job. Keeping loyal customers happy. Now tell us, what’s the hot gossip around town? Any fights? Any breakups? Any hookups?”
If my cheeks were red before, they’re now all-day-on-the-beach-without-sunscreen burnt. Fights and breakups and hookups oh my.
Ethan’s gaze flicks to me, and everyone notices.
“Really?” Madeline asks, interest piqued. “Hannah, dear, tell us what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Oh, leave her alone,” Adele says. “The girl can have a private life. It’s none of our business.”
“Adele, you make everything your business,” Madeline snips.
“Oh really?”
Ethan and I exchange a look while they go at it. I’m relieved the attention is off me for a moment. Ethan shakes his head at them, and I roll my eyes, and then we’re both smiling, and unfortunately, that’s when Madeline says, “Oh.”
“Oh what?” Adele asks, snapping her attention back to us.
Madeline looks between Ethan and me, and so do the rest of the Golden Oldies, and that’s when Madeline lets out a low whistle, and every particle of my skin sets on fire.
“Oh, yes,” Ginger agrees. “I see it now.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Adele chimes in. “What a cute pair.”
“Can’t believe I didn’t notice it before,” Madeline adds.
“Um.” I squirm in my seat. “I should get back to work.”
“You’re not working today,” Tashia says pointedly.
Please let me get out of here before they say anything too blatant.
“Y’all would make the cutest couple,” Adele tells us.
Damn it. Too late.
“That is,” she continues, “if you’re not already dating? Are you? Oh, tell us.” She claps her hands together. “What a treat that would be!”
I’m not looking at Ethan. I’m not looking at anyone. I’m looking at the floor, wondering if I try very, very hard whether I might suddenly be granted the power to fall through it.
And that’s when Ethan says, so softly I can barely hear it, “We’re not dating. Hannah is taken.”
I chance a look up at him. There’s something in his eyes, something that makes my stomach stir and my breath catch. And I find myself replying, “Actually, not anymore.”
For a moment, it’s like the air has been sucked from the room. Every nerve of my body feels electrified as Ethan’s eyes search mine. A tether pulls taut between us, ready to snap.
“Well.” Madeline loudly clears her throat, jolting me away from Ethan’s gaze. “That’s enough of that. Are we going to sit around gossiping all day, or are we going to bowl?”
Ginger stands up. “We’re going to bowl. And I’m going to whup your butt.”
“Don’t count your chickens,” Tashia says. “You only won last time because you got the split by luck.”
“Not luck! Skill!”
“Mm-hmm, just like you’re skilled at playing slot machines.”
“Oh, will you two stop?” Madeline asks, pulling her ball out of its pink bag. “We all know I’m the best at—”
The conversation becomes impossible to follow, and I take my chance to escape. Ethan follows right behind. We walk in unbearable silence. I can feel him glancing at me, quickly, out of the corner of my eye. My skin heats, and I try to break the tension with a joke. “You should probably keep your distance,” I tell him. “Or next thing you know, they’ll be spreading rumors that we’re engaged.”
He smiles. “You’re not wrong.” He takes a pronounced giant step to the right. “That work?”
I laugh. “Definitely have them fooled now.”
And then, because I’m a person who apparently hates herself, I say, “Ridiculous thing for them to come up with. It’s not like we would ever date.”
Hannah.
Why.
Why.
There’s a long pause, and when Ethan finally replies, his voice has gone all stilted. “Yeah. Right.” His eyes are anywhere but on mine. “I’m gonna head over to whirly ball. Joey said he’d need backup later.”
“Right.” I nod. “Great. See you! Have fun! Bye!”
My face is in my hands before he even leaves.
* * *
“Madeline?” I ask.
After my disastrous interaction with Ethan, I decided I needed to park my butt on a bench outside of Bonanza, my brain obviously too boiled to drive home yet.
“Everything okay?” I ask, checking my phone.
It’s only been half an hour since I saw her inside.
Madeline looks over at me, her eyes squinting in the sun. “Oh, Hannah dear! You startled me. I’m fine. Just a stomachache. Decided to drive home in case things get too risky for the public facilities.” She sighs. “Can’t eat spicy food like I used to. Be sure to take advantage of that steel stomach while you can, sweetheart.”
I laugh. “Will do. Want some help getting to your car?”
“I don’t need it, but I’ll certainly take the company,” she agrees.
We walk together. The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder. Apparently, she was taller in her youth. “Shrinking by the second,” she complained last week. The wind whips her perfume in my direction, and the scent reminds me so soundly of my bubbie that I take a sharp inhale. Her unveiling is tomorrow. Eleven long months without her. The thought makes me light-headed. I’m not ready to say goodbye again.
I spent sixteen years with one of the most special women on the planet. Bubbie was a force of nature, and her love for me was as strong as a hurricane. And then she slipped through my fingers while I was barely paying attention. The guilt burns. I lost her, and I’ve let her down ever since then. How can I possibly face that?
We make it to Madeline’s car, and I pull open the door for her. “Want me to put your walker in the trunk?” I ask.
“Sure, dear,” she agrees. “Thank you.”
I put away the walker and am about to say goodbye when she tells me, “Come, sit with me a minute. I’ll run the air.”
“What about your stomach?” I ask.
