Jessica Sankiewicz - If Only We

She brightens up for a second, and then narrows her eyes, tossing the pillow at my face. “Don’t change the subject.”

“You know I’m right,” I imitate, holding tightly to the pillow.

“You are right about the song, but I am so right about Chevy. He’s going to ask you out, and soon. I’d bet my life on it.”

“Don’t you dare bet your life on that,” Ben says from the doorway.

I stand up. “Watch it or she’ll make you sing ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight?’ with her.” When his eyes bug out, both Lyndsay and I crack up.

He just shakes his head and says, “Come on, let’s go.”

We get to the coffee shop, The Caffeine Café, ten minutes later. It is more packed than I anticipated for a karaoke night. With nearly every beige chair taken, it is standing room only. There are clusters of people everywhere it seems. Perhaps more people like singing than I thought.

One of the baristas stands on the stage and says, “Next up, Nathan Wakefield with ‘Jailhouse Rock’ by Elvis Presley!” I clap along with everyone else. Nathan bounds up the steps to the microphone and starts to sing. His voice is amazing. He manages to sound like the original but with a personal edge to it.

We squeeze around the edge of the room to where Roger and Chevy are sitting. Chevy waves, scooting over on the couch for me to sit next to him. Since the couch is full, our legs are touching, causing butterflies to fill my stomach. Lyndsay and Ben sit down in the chair next to me. I lean over to Chevy and say, “He is beyond great at this,” nodding in Nathan’s direction.

Chevy nods in agreement. “I don’t know how he does it.” When the song is over, we all yell out some cheers as we clap. Nathan bows and doles out high fives on his way back to the couch.

He sits down on Chevy’s lap and says to me, “Which song will you be singing with me?”

Chevy shoves at Nathan. “Get off me, dude.” His words are a mix of anger and amusement.

“I will, as soon as she tells me which song.”

Chevy pleads, “Tell him. He’s crushing me.”

I laugh. “Um…” I close my eyes and tap my chin. “How about ‘It’s Still Rock And Roll to Me’ by Billy Joel?”

“Done!” He gets up and walks over to the sign-up sheet.

“Nice choice,” Chevy says, rubbing his hands up his legs to smooth out his pants. “Thanks for the quick response. I wish he wouldn’t do that.”

I grin. “You’ll miss him when he’s gone.”

“I will,” he says with a sigh.

Lyndsay taps my leg. “We’re going to sign up for one. Are you going to do any more than the one?”

I shake my head. “Doubt it.”

After they leave, Chevy turns to me. “You’re not going to sing more than once?”

“I told you, I don’t sing.”

He frowns. “Not even for me?”

“Maybe next time,” I say with a charming smile. It would take a lot to get me to sing a solo again, but he doesn’t know that.

He smiles back at that and lets it go. For the next hour, our group, along with the rest of the crowd, takes turns singing. I manage to keep myself together while on the stage with Nathan. Chevy tells me after that I did well, but I don’t believe he could hear me over Nathan’s voice.

A couple classmates stop in to say a quick goodbye to Nathan and wish him luck through the course of the night. Then a few minutes into the last half hour before closing time, Brian and Heidi come in. They stroll over and Nathan starts to talk to them. I tune them out to focus on the trio of next year’s seniors onstage singing to a Lady Gaga song. It isn’t until Nathan brings up a road trip with Chevy that I turn to them and ask, “Road trip?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I have an internship to do in July at my uncle’s firm. Chevy offered to drive me to New York since I have no reason to take my car there. I’ll need it here when I’m home during winter and summer breaks anyway.”

“Oh,” I say softly as I nod. I shouldn’t be so concerned. It’s not as if I expect to spend every waking second with Chevy.

Chevy chimes in, “It’s only for a few days. It takes a day to get there, another couple to unload and sightsee, then another to get home.”

I mentally cross my fingers that he didn’t say that because he noticed worry on my face. “When are you leaving?” I ask.

“Monday morning, bright and early.”

I will be too busy making the final touches on the throw pillows and painting Kaitlin’s room to hang out with Chevy anyway. This should console me, but I still find myself a little anxious. I shake it off and say to Chevy, “I’m going to get something to take home. Did you want anything else?”

“No, I think I’m good,” he says as he lifts up his cup.

I head over to the counter and order a decaf coffee. I take the cup in my hands and walk over to the side table with creamers, sugars, and utensils. As I'm stirring the sugar in my drink, Heidi shows up beside me. “Hi,” I say to her.

“Are you and Chevy going out?” she asks bluntly.

I blink a couple times in surprise. She can’t even say “hi” back first before jumping straight to the point of her talking to me. “Not really,” I reply, tapping the spoon at the side of the cup. It’s not an outright lie and, at the very least, it saves Chevy from dealing with another possible pursuit. When she narrows her eyes, I continue, “Besides, what does it matter? You’ve got Brian now, right?”

“Yes, I do,” she says, lifting her chin in the air.

I smile and nod. “Okay then,” I say as I walk away. I can hear her huff behind me. Stifling a laugh, I'm still smiling when I get back to the couch. Chevy and Roger are off to the side talking intently about something. I look to Lyndsay and Ben. “Time to go?” They nod. Nathan begs us to stay longer. “Ben has a long drive home from here,” I explain.

“That’s right, you do, don’t you?” He shakes Ben’s hand. “Take care of your girl.”

“Will do,” Ben says. “Good luck at Columbia.”

Nathan hugs both Lyndsay and me, telling us he'll see us again over Thanksgiving break.

Chevy notices us getting ready to go and steps over. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, it’s getting late.”

He nods. Then he leans in, all serious, and whispers to me, “Everything okay? I saw Heidi corner you.”

His concern is touching. I whisper back, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“All right.” He seems relieved. Then he hugs me, and whispers in my ear, “I’ll give you a call when I get back to make plans for the song you promised to sing to me.” He's grinning when he pulls away.

“I said maybe.”

“I’ll get a yes out of you one day.”

I should feel nervous at the idea, but I just chuckle. “Okay, I look forward to it.”

Tuesday morning arrives quickly despite my nerves. What possessed me to defy my mom by painting Kaitlin’s room the wrong color? I shouldn’t be nervous, but I can’t back out of the plan now. I have come too far to turn around. My mom will get over me painting Kaitlin’s room the color she didn’t want.

Won’t she?

I shake my head as a sudden wicked chill causes me to shiver. I get back to finishing taping the edges with painter’s tape. I just had a close call when my mom wanted to see the paint cans to make sure the color was mixed properly. I assured her they were, and when she insisted, I mentioned that she would be late for work if I pulled them out for her to see. She didn’t persist in it after that and headed out the door. I breathed a sigh of relief then, but the nerves remained the same.

As soon as I see Mom’s car leave the driveway and head up the road, I sneak into the garage and pull the paint cans out of my trunk. When I set them down in the middle of the floor on the plastic next to the rollers and trays, Kaitlin walks in. She is wearing my old overalls over a white T-shirt. I crack open the lid and she gasps. “What’s wrong?” I ask her.

Her eyes are wide. She clutches the buckles on the overalls tightly. “This isn’t the right color,” she says with a shake of her head.

I make a point to look at them closely, pretending to deliberate over what she said. “No, it’s right,” I say finally.

She shakes her head firmly. “No. It’s supposed to be lilac.”

“But, this is the color you picked,” I state matter-of-factly. “Right?”

She blinks a few times. “But your mom picked the lilac one.”

“But you picked this,” I repeat, pointing.

She swallows audibly. “But…this is the wrong color,” she insists.

She is obviously afraid of upsetting my mom. Who could blame her? This house has always been a representation of great interior decorating, all of my mom’s creation. She takes pride in her home. Nothing out of place, nothing out of order, everything flowing throughout. This color undoes years of matching each room. No more will all of the walls in this house be some shade of pastel. This could very well create a disturbance in the household.

I finally tell her, “No, Kaitlin, it’s not the wrong color. You wanted dark purple, and that is what you’re getting.”

She still doesn’t seem convinced. “But…but your mom will freak out.”

“So? You let me worry about that. For now, we’re making this the room of your dreams.” She starts to open her mouth to protest some more, but I hold up my hand to stop her, and smile. “Come on,” I say, pouring the first can into each tray. “I’ll take the edges on the wall with the windows and door, you take the other two.” I hold out the tray to her. “What do you say?”

She hesitates a second, then picks up a brush. She smiles. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

A few hours later, we're finished and subsequently famished. Changing out of our paint-splattered clothes into something clean, we make a late lunch. I take the dirty clothes and toss them into the laundry while Kaitlin stirs the tomato soup. After we eat, we start the second season of The O.C. We're so caught up that when my mom and her dad come home from work a little early, it catches us by surprise. I shoot up in my seat when my mom says hello.

“Hi, Mom,” I say as calmly as I can.

“You seem shocked to see me.” She sets down her purse on the end table and gives me a kiss on the forehead.

“Not really, just a little too into the show to realize it wasn’t real.” I try to laugh, but it trails off into silence.

Maurice sits down next to Kaitlin and puts his arm around her. “I gather today went well.” Kaitlin nods enthusiastically in response.

“Well, then,” my mom says, pleased. “Let’s all go upstairs to take a look, shall we?”

“No!” I say jumping up.

“Why not?” my mom asks, baffled. Her eyes narrow slightly, as if she is expecting something went terribly wrong.

“It’s just…Kaitlin and I were talking earlier and thought it would be fun to do a dramatic reveal when Grandma comes tomorrow night. You know, the whole closing your eyes and opening them when we turn on the light thing.”

Her shoulders slump in disappointment. “I suppose I can wait one more day. It’s not like I don’t already know pretty much how it’s going to look.” I cringe internally and manage an appreciative smile. So far, so good.

The next day, I'm on pins and needles waiting for it to end. I want to get home and get everything set up, including the throw pillows. I had put the finishing touches on them earlier today, and now I can’t wait to give them to Kaitlin. The big reveal is going to be just as much of a surprise for her as for the rest of them. I have hidden them in a large shopping bag in my trunk so that Kaitlin won’t see them when I picked her up.

Since there is strength in numbers, I even convince Mom to invite Faith and Lyndsay as well. It's their mom and grandma, too, after all. It puts the nerves slightly at ease, but only slightly.

Once we get back home, Kaitlin and I move the furniture back where it belongs. When she goes to the kitchen to help her dad start dinner, I sneak out the back door and around the house to my car to get the pillows. I manage to set them up on her bed without her coming upstairs.

I go back down and help them make dinner, since my mom is picking up Grandma at the airport. Faith and Lyndsay show up around the same time as they arrive, so we all are able sit to down for our meal together. It has been a year since we have all sat down to a meal together. It's difficult juggling our different schedules between work, school, and discount airplane tickets.