Page 38 of Here to Stay
I had to reread that statement before I sent it to the group, just to give myself a moment to digest I’d actually typed that for other people to see.
I, Rocco Quinn, hailing from Queens, New York, was actively trying to get people into the idea of going to a pumpkin patch. I’d seen a tweet from the Dallas Arboretum advertising some kind of wine and beer event that involved hanging out in a field of squash and had retweeted it tagging the exiles. Did I give a single fuck about pumpkins or even had a clue what people got up to in a patch full of them?
Short answer: NO.
But I was desperate to hear from Julia, since she’d pretty much iced me out after that group-text fiasco. Andthatshould’ve been the end of it. But fuck, I liked this woman. Seeing her all week and having to keep it all casual after I knew what she tasted like had been torture. And even though everything about this plan was stupid, I kept staring at my screen waiting for notifications.
“We should be there in twenty minutes.” I looked over at the driver who had just spoken to me, and my nervousness went on overdrive.
My other reason for cooking up this pumpkin patch façade was my way of trying to feel out Julia’s mood. I was en route to her program for the visit with the Twins and feeling like I should’ve given her a heads-up. Not that I even knew what to give her a heads-up about.
I looked at my vibrating phone and saw that everyone, except Julia, had responded to my text.
José: Look at you planning and organizing fall-themed outings! I’m down, I have a new burnt-orange sweater I’ve been wanting to feature.
Tariq’s message came like three seconds after José’s (not surprising).
Tariq: Do we have to eat the pumpkins? Why are people getting their drink on around a bunch of them tho? Texans are wild.
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
Salome: I have all the same questions Tariq has, but you people are my only friends and I have nothing going on. At least I will have an excuse to wear my orange Gatorade Js.
Dani just sent a thumbs-up emoji. Still nothing from Julia.
I should’ve given her another minute, but since my desperation was in overdrive these days I broke down after thirty seconds, and asked her directly. Even though I knew this was a sure way to earn some serious ridicule from Tariq and Dani.
Rocco: No love for the pumpkin patch from you, Julia?
After a few seconds the circle with her face on it started bobbing as she wrote a response, while my heart pounded like I was waiting for a life-or-death answer.
Julia: @ Rocco... A. If I see you and I don’t tweet, that means I don’t fux with you. B. I’m working, people. Rocco, you know I’m pressed today. Don’t you motherfuckers have jobs?!
I felt a little guilty that I was bothering her when I knew she had to be running around, but I couldn’t keep in the laugh that burst out of me. Before I even had a chance to respond, a barrage of GIFs featuring people doing a range of things from laughing hysterically to passing out appeared on the conversation thread.
Finally Salome interjected.
Salome: Damn Julia, you savage. Can you pick me up tho?
Julia responded with an angry-faced emoji and a thumbs-up, which had me grinning to myself like a total fool. Before I could think about it too much, I texted her again.
Rocco: I’ll buy you a glass of rosé, Julia.
Julia: That’s the least you could do. Now leave me alone. I’m stressed out!
I closed the chat and looked up to see that we were getting close to our destination, and the urge to see Julia got more intense every few yards.
“Here we are.” The driver of the car service Sturm’s ordered for me gestured at the main entrance of the center.
“Thanks, man.” I hustled out of the car and took a moment to look at the sign. It was done in the same cursive font that Sturm’s used in their logo, but this one read Sturm Youth Center. The front of the building was landscaped with stones and grass. The first time I’d been here, I was so nervous about meeting Julia I hadn’t taken the time to absorb the little details. It looked like a place where they cared about the people who went into it.
As I walked through the brick hallway, I noticed it was lined with posters and what looked like art created by students. I wondered if the collages were the ones the students had been making on my last visit. They all had facts about historical figures from all ethnicities, and I’d stopped to read one about Maria Tallchief when I heard someone calling my name.
I turned around to see Mitzy, Muffy, and Phil standing by the door to one of the classrooms. They had another two women with them. Once was Gail, as always in one of her bespoke suits, and she was smiling at something that Muffy was telling her as Mitzy waved me over. The other woman had salt-and-pepper hair and was dressed in some kind of tunic that looked Central American. She didn’t look very happy as she said something to Phil, who seemed to be doing his best to ignore her. As I got closer, I could hear voices of young people talking excitedly.
“Hey, I thought Mr. Sturm would be here too.”
The twins just made a face, and when Muffy spoke, she sounded pissed. “He isn’t. After making us all rearrange our week and having the program get all kinds of consent forms from parents, and a bunch of other bullshit, he decided he didn’t want to come.”
