“Erin?” Lalitha’s tiny sandals slapped the hardwood floor as she rushed to embrace her friend. “What is it?”
“Everything is ruined,” Erin said.
Lalitha held her at an arm’s distance. “Is this about those damned Quigleys barging into our pool? Their timing is shit. That is a truly lame pre-birthday surprise.”
“You think so, then? I’m off the team?”
“Maybe? Probably. I’m so pissed I could spit.”
“Spit, Li? Really?”
“I’m so pissed I could drink.”
Erin squared her shoulders. “Right. Where’s the alcohol?”
“Atta girl.” Lalitha taped a sign to the door—COME ON IN!—and led Erin to the kitchen where a mountain of junk food covered the double island. Five towers of blue plastic cups flanked a pyramid of soda cases.
Lalitha raised three fingers in mock salute. “I solemnly swear I will not swim relay with any of the damned Quigleys.”
“Don’t martyr yourself for my sake.”
Erin had reacquainted herself with the Quigleys’ times, so she knew any Quigley would guarantee her relay team a berth at States.
“I’m speaking on principle, Erin. How do we know they won’t throw a race to spite us?”
“You’re flirting with conspiracy theories, Li. They’re not trying to ruin our record.”
“Damned Quigleys.”
Erin whispered, “You’re not helping.”
“Ah, but I do have something that will help!” Lalitha withdrew a vat of pink liquid from the fridge. “This is special for you! I couldn’t buy wine coolers or ciders because I sort of exhausted my brother’s patience with the beer. But this is something special that Anil drinks at U of I. It has some vodka in it. And strawberry stuff, so it tastes good. Three pounds of fresh fruit, too, so it’s kind of healthy? I guess? He calls it Hairy Buffalo, which I find hilarious.” Lalitha filled a plastic cup and garnished it with extra fruit.
Any alcohol was a fine alternative to beer, so Erin poked a pale-pink pineapple chunk floating on the surface and took a swig. “Li, you’ll still love me if I’m off the team, right?”
“Are you kidding? For life. And tonight, you are going to drink that, party with friends, and feel all better. Tomorrow we can work up a plan to send those damned Quigleys back where they belong.”
“Still? We’re still talking about this?” Ben wrapped his arms around Erin’s waist from behind.
She faced him and forced a smile. “Hi.”
Lalitha said, “You two are too cute. Birthday pic! Gimme your phone!” She snapped photo-booth pics of them, cheek to cheek, forehead to forehead, lip to lip.
Ben looked beyond Erin to Lalitha. “Did you tell her yet?”
“It’s your surprise, Loverboy.” Lalitha pulled something small from her pocket and passed it to Ben, who palmed it.
A dozen guys swarmed into the kitchen, offering Lalitha and Erin cursory hugs before pawing through the snack mountain.
“Keg is tapped on the back porch,” Lalitha said, handing each of them a plastic cup as they filed toward the back door.
Erin glanced between her best friend and boyfriend. “Tell me!”
Ben and Lalitha shared a conspiratorial look.
Ben wrapped his arms around Erin again. “For your birthday, I convinced—”
“We convinced!”
“Right,” Ben said. “Lalitha’s mom is letting us—you and I—use the observatory tonight.”
Erin’s heart leapt. Studying the night sky had been a nightly affair at her grandparents’ lake house; it took the universe to a whole new level of intimacy. And Lalitha’s mom rarely shared her observatory, let alone allowed an unsupervised visit during a party.
Lalitha’s mom was very protective of her ten-thousand-dollar telescope, so Erin was dubious. “Did she really say it was okay?”
Lalitha shrugged. “I’m not saying she did. And I’m not saying she didn’t. Suffice it to say the room is yours for the night. Wipe down any parts you touch. And don’t touch anything but the telescope. And not the lens or the eyepiece. She is very particular, okay?” Her piercing stare darted between Ben and Erin until their eager nodding convinced her they would behave.
“Good. When you’re done, lock the door, come find me, and put the key back in my hand. Got it?”
“Got it,” they echoed.
Ben shouted, “Happy birthday!” and voices echoed all around. He rested his hand on Erin’s hip. “What are you drinking tonight?”
“Hairy Buffalo. Really, really sweet, but light-years better than beer.” Erin sipped the sickeningly sweet Pepto-colored beverage.
“Maybe we finally found a drink for you!” Ben whispered, “And at midnight, we can really celebrate your birthday. Nothing stands between you and me and the best night of our lives.”
Erin sucked in a wisp of air as Ben’s fingers ran along her upper thigh. She’d rather skip the socializing and head upstairs immediately.
FORTY-FIVE
After swimming year-round for half a decade, the end of swim season left Erin with a gaping hole in her schedule. Felicity asked her to meet Pippa after school most days, so that killed an hour.
At Ilam Primary, parents chatted on benches circling the playgrounds. Erin untied Grandma Tea’s ring from inside her bag and slid it onto her left middle finger as young siblings wrestled on playground equipment until school was out. Erin eavesdropped on moms’ conversations as kids climbed up a row of posts and leapt into a sandpit.
Pippa burst from room 12, bounded toward Erin, and greeted her with an enormous hug. Erin tried to hold Pippa at arm’s length. Hanging off a big sister could make Pippa look clingy and ruin her reputation for years.
She refused to hold Pippa’s hand as they walked toward the bus stop, where several dozen other Ilam Primary kids lounged in the grass in uniform.
On the Metrostar, they squeezed into adjacent seats and Pippa’s attention turned to Erin.
“Do you have a story of your life for me today?”
One afternoon, Erin had talked about singing with her grandparents, and now Pippa wanted a story every day: about summers in Michigan or her old friends or life in Wheaton.
Pippa’s rose-colored glasses were almost charming. She reminded Erin of herself at ten. Pippa would have loved summers in the U.P.
Erin held up her left hand. “Today I want to tell you about my ring.”
Pippa wanted to hold
