July 3, 1975

JULY 3, 1975

It rained the next day. It didn’t just rain, it poured buckets. Real ark-building weather. At one point the wind kicked up and the huge drops flew by the windows sideways. We’d planned on hanging out at the beach in the morning, then going to a place one of the town kids knew where you could jump off a bridge at high tide. The weather had canceled all our fun. Matt and I moped around the house all morning while Mom slept in after her double the night before. She was scheduled to work the afternoon shift that day but thought she’d get cut early if the weather stayed bad.

Matt made grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch and we sat morosely in front of the television, eating and not watching whatever was on. The phone rang and I bounded out of my chair to get it, not even thinking it might be him, but Matt was faster. He talked for a few minutes, ignoring my attempts to get his attention to find out who it was. By the end of the call, he was more animated than he’d been all day. He hung up and turned to me with a grin. “Kelly’s parents said she could have people over to play board games. They’ve got a ‘great room’ over the garage, whatever the hell that is, and her parents never bother her.” He stood next to me and threw an arm around my shoulder. “It’s very private, if you catch my drift.”

I caught his drift, all right, and his drift scared the crap out of me. I’d never been with a girl. It was my boldest move to hold her hand on the beach. It was my only move. I tried to call up my resolve from the day before, but the rain seemed to have washed that away as well. Still, what choice did I have?

We got dressed and grabbed a deck of cards and an old Monopoly game, stuffing them in a backpack along with a couple of bags of potato chips. We were about to head out when the phone rang again. I was closer this time and grabbed it, hoping it was Kelly to say plans had changed. A boring day reading comics might be better than the potential embarrassment that lay ahead for me.

“Hello?” I waited but only heard some background noise. Not static, but an engine or something. “Hello, is anyone there?”

A long sigh hissed in my ear, freezing my blood. I held the phone away from me, staring at it as if it might come alive and wrap me up like a boa constrictor.

“Are you coming, or—” Matt’s eyes widened when he saw me. He grabbed the phone and slammed it down on the cradle. “Was it him?” He cried, grabbing my shoulders. “It was, wasn’t it?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice to work.

“Did he say anything?”

I shook my head.

“Then how do you know it was him?” His tone was dripping with accusation.

I raised my face to his. How could he even ask me that? “I just know,” I said, not looking away.

“Shit,” he breathed, his face softening. “Okay, we already knew he had our phone number. He’s just fucking with us.”

“I don’t know. What if he knows where we are?” As scared as I was, an ember was lit in my gut, and the more I thought about him ruining everything we had, the brighter and hotter it grew. It was rage, and within a few minutes, it was red-hot. It burned the fear out of me and made my hands shake. “Fuck him,” I said through tight lips. “Let him come.”

Matt looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had. But in that moment, if my father stepped through the door, I would have tried to kill him.

***

I dropped a stack of bills on the floor next to Kelly. “I’ll take hotels on Connecticut Avenue, Ventnor Avenue, and Oriental Avenue,” I said with a grin. “Please.”

“What the heck, Matt,” Leah moaned melodramatically, “you didn’t tell us your brother was a real-estate tycoon.”

I shrugged, scooping the green houses off the board and replacing them with the larger red hotels. “Come visit me anytime, suckers,” I said gleefully.

We’d been playing board games all day, except for a short break to eat the sandwiches and chips Kelly’s mom brought up to us. There were eight of us to start, but the others had gone home, some out of boredom, some after I ruthlessly eliminated them from the game.

Matt rolled the dice, then counted the spaces out, moving his car piece from spot-to-spot. He groaned, landing on Connecticut Ave.

“Welcome to the Ryan Arms luxury hotel,” I said with a laugh. “The once meager rent of eight dollars, thanks to my vast property improvements, is now six hundred dollars. Cash only, please.”

The girls were giggling as we all watched Matt count out his remaining cash, curse, then start flipping over property cards to mortgage them. He still came up almost a hundred dollars short. “I’m out,” he said glumly, “taken to the cleaners by my little brother. How will I ever show my face at the country club again?”

“Oh,” I said, taking his money and property cards, “you don’t have to worry about that. Your membership has been revoked.” The girls laughed as I dodged a friendly punch.

Kelly tossed her money at me. “There you go, Mr. Moneybags, I’d be out on my next turn anyway.”

I looked at Leah. She was eying her stack of money and property, then looking at the board. With a shrug, she pushed all her wealth my way. “You win,” she said. “I might make another turn or two, but I can’t come back.”

I stood and took a bow. “The top hat thanks you, and I thank you.” I was always the top hat when I played.

We all helped sorting the money and putting the game away. “Now what?” I asked. Outside, the rain and wind lashed at the windows.

Kelly gave Matt a mischievous look, raising her eyebrows. “We could go sit on the couch and watch television,” she said, gesturing to the love seat that faced the window, “and you two could just . . . ”

I swallowed hard, hoping nobody had heard the click in my throat. This was it, the moment I’d been dreading. The couch that faced the television was on the opposite side of the room from the smaller seat facing the window. It wasn’t exactly private, but it was close enough.

Kelly flipped off the lights. Normally, the room would be bathed in summer sunlight, but the storm had brought a false dusk with it and the room was dark as night. Kelly grabbed Matt’s hand and led him to the couch, turning on the television before sitting down.

I looked at Leah. Her hands were in the pockets of her shorts and she was staring at the floor. When she looked up, I realized with knee-wobbling relief that she was as nervous as me. In the dim light cast by the flickering television, her face was flushed. I opened my mouth to speak, became suddenly aware that I had no idea what to say, and closed it again.

This time, it was Leah that was bold. Her eyes dropped but she reached out and took my hand, leading me to the love seat. We sat down at the same time. The seat was small, but at first, we were as far apart as it would allow. Then, together, we wordlessly slipped closer.

Sheets of rain cascaded down the large bay window. The ocean was barely visible in the eerie, sickly light of the storm, but even with the howling wind, the sound of the crashing surf was louder.

I put my arm around her, unable to take my eyes from hers. Her lips twitched as if a smile was coming, but instead they parted slightly. I leaned forward. She did the same. As our lips met, I closed my eyes. Her lips were soft and warm and her hair had the scent of spring flowers. The kiss was nothing like I’d imagined it. Is any first kiss? It’s something that can’t be imagined, it must be experienced. It lasted forever but was over too quickly. When we leaned back and opened our eyes, we were both smiling.

I wanted to tell her everything I’d felt in that eternity that our lips were together. Instead, I leaned in and kissed her again. It was if I had to make sure I hadn’t imagined the feeling. And I hadn’t, and it was just as life-changing as the first. I put my hand on her hip and she tensed.

“I pulled away, embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I—”

“No, it’s not you, it’s . . . ” She smiled shyly, then looked over to the window. “Can I tell you something?” Her voice was barely a whisper and she was staring out at the storm. She didn’t wait for a reply. “That was . . . that was the first time I’ve ever kissed a boy.”

“Me too,” I stuttered, “I mean, not that I kissed a boy, it was—” She giggled and cut me off with another kiss, this time putting her hand on my cheek. When the kiss was over, I took a deep breath. “I really like you, Leah,” I said, sounding way more confident than I felt. She could ruin me with just one word, one laugh.

“I like you, too,” she said softly.

If it was a movie, the rain would have stopped and the clouds would have parted, leaving a spectacular rainbow. But this was real life, and the dark clouds remained.