Page 89 of The Gallagher Place
Then she stepped out into the cold.
FORTY-TWO
NORA
Friday, June 5, 1998
Laughter bubbled up in Marlowe’s chest as Nate swaggered about the kitchen, reenacting their shock at encountering the bear the weekend before. He downplayed his own panic, of course, but Marlowe allowed it, as he told the story well. His words came out louder than usual. She glanced down at the half-empty beer bottle in her hand. The glass was cool and comforting. The beer itself made her gag at first, but she had gotten used to it. Nora leaned against Marlowe’s shoulder, and Marlowe grinned at her friend’s flushed cheeks.
Nate’s friends from college arrived earlier that morning, and Nate led them all on a romp, showing his friends the view from the top of the North Field before they went for the season’s first swim in the Bend. Henry’s friend Liam joined them as well. A full posse.
It was hot earlier, but the evening was mild and long, and Enzo dragged out the grill so the boys could make hot dogs and hamburgers.
Her parents and Enzo had gone to bed hours ago, but Marlowe, Henry, Liam, and Nora stayed up with Nate, Mike, and Luke. Nate had bought plenty of beer, and everyone was at least a bit tipsy. Marlowe’s eyes seemed more attuned to the light after her first beer. She itched to paint the kitchen bathed in a golden glow. She wantedto capture the vivid blue of Nora’s jeans, the soft green of Nate’s sweater.
They’d spent the first weekends of the summer finding their groove, adjusting to Nate’s return from school, but now Marlowe thought this summer might be the best yet. She would buy a new bikini at the Saperstein’s in Millerton, and then she and Nora would drive to the lake and then something would happen. A great romance. They didn’t have licenses, but Nora’s dad had taught her how to drive and given her permission to take his car on short journeys. Mr. Miller was much more relaxed about that sort of thing than Marlowe’s parents were.
“All right.” Luke held up a deck of red cards. “Here’s how you play.”
He launched into a rundown of the rules of a complicated game while dealing out the cards.
Nora shook her head. “You’re making no sense.”
“He’s drunk,” Nate teased.
“Tipsy.” Luke held up a finger.
Across the table, Henry and Liam stared up at the college boys with blatant hero worship. Marlowe wasn’t immune either. How was it that they seemed so much more grown up than her own classmates?
She and Nora had mostly just listened to their banter all night. Nate’s roommate Luke was tall, with dark hair, and had the kind of smile that made girls go weak in the knees. He was funny too, and he regaled them all evening with hilarious stories about college life. About how he and Nate were conspiring to win favor with the upperclassmen in the best eating club the following year. He told stories of leaving parties at daybreak and somehow making it to class by nine.
Nate started plucking the empty bottles off the table and putting them in a bag.
“We better take this trash out or Mom’ll pitch a fit,” Nate said.
Nora set her bottle down and stood up.
“I’ll do it.” She grabbed the top of the bag. “You guys cooked and Marlowe did the dishes, so it’s only fair.”
Nate relinquished the bag with a wink. Henry leaned forward and tapped Nora’s nearly full bottle with his finger. Marlowe swatted his hand away. He was already red-faced and too loud; he didn’t have to filch Nora’s beer. But Nora gestured that Henry was welcome to it. He grabbed the bottle and took a swig, smiling smugly and shrugging at Marlowe, as if to say,Sorry, Mar, overruled.
“Let us know if the coyotes are out,” Nate said. “Mike and Luke might want to howl back at them.”
Nora smiled and rolled her eyes. “They don’t howl, theyyip.”
Then she gave a jaunty wave and lugged the trash bag out of the front door and into the darkness. Marlowe felt a low, buzzing current in the room as she took the last sip of the beer. Her eyes were drawn back to Luke, the way he kept running his hand through his dark hair, and she wondered if she would even know how to make a breezy movement, a playful gesture, or a joking quip, the way Nora seemed to do so naturally when it came to boys, even her brothers.
Nate pulled a bag of chips out of the cabinet. Marlowe, suddenly hungry, got up and grabbed some bowls. They would have to wash them before bed to avoid comment from Glory, but everyone was ravenous.
“You’re up, Marlowe,” Mike called to her from the card table. “Your brother sucks at this game. Maybe you’ll show him up.” The game involved throwing cards down on the table and smacking the pile if a certain suit was on top. She and Mike both lunged for an ace of clubs so that their hands fell atop each other, and she flushed. He pulled at her fingers, trying to insist he had been first, andMarlowe felt a thrill. She playfully elbowed Mike while flicking her eyes to the side in a coy glance. It was easy to flirt, she suddenly realized. There was no secret formula, no mysterious riddle.
Nate laid out the plans for tomorrow: a late breakfast at the diner, and then a long walk through the woods, followed by a picnic by the Bend. Henry suggested they go to town to see a movie, while Liam nodded eagerly.
Mike dealt out a new hand while reminiscing about a college play he had acted in, which set Luke off.
“If bad acting were a sport, you’d be a gold medalist, man,” Luke mocked.
“Hey, I got cast, didn’t I? Anyway, you know I just did it to meet girls.” Mike laughed, only slightly defensive.
