4. When Mom took charge
Graduation
Tommy
Vinny and I have committed to our colleges—our very distant colleges. Fifteen hours apart by car. Vinny’s old wagon probably couldn’t make the round trip. As predicted, Vinny will be attending Stephenson College on the North Shore of Massachusetts. And I’m heading to Our Guardian College in Chicago. We’ll both be on the school’s soccer teams.
Mom chose my college. And I let her… I’ve let a lot of shit happen over the past few months.
After the prom, my mother more or less took charge of my schedule, which has focused mainly on school, Life in Christ Worship Center services and youth group meetings, family dinners—and by this, I mean with my family by blood, rather than “family of choice”—and intensive soccer instruction with a private coach, so I’ll be ready for summer training camp at Our Guardian. Mom and Dad plan to travel to Chicago to attend all of my home games, and they expect me to be a starter as a freshman. That’s a tall order.
There have been zero afternoon workouts with my long-lost best friend/used-to-be-cousin, Vinny. And no more sleepovers at his house. We even spent Memorial Day Weekend at the Moore family’s vacation house on the coast of Maine. It was fucking messed up, considering we’d shared every Memorial Day Weekend in my life to this point in a couple of side-by-side cottages on Mirror Lake with the Buccis. It was messed-up for other reasons too—maybe because I can feel an arranged marriage circling in on me.
Life is different since Mom caught Vinny and me hugging in the driveway after the prom. It’s like she doesn’t trust us to be alone together anymore. She still lets Vinny drive me places—to school and youth group and today to graduation practice. She probably figures two guys can’t fit enough immoral behavior for condemnation to an eternity in hell in a five-minute commute to the high school.
Vinny’s changed a lot too. At first he whined about my newly restrictive schedule. Why can’t you come over tonight? and We never hit the gym together anymore, T. All I could say was, “Mom set up a soccer lesson again today, so I can’t hang out with you” or “My folks want the three of us to share more family time together before I leave for school” to make him stop. I needed him to drop it; hearing him beg for what I wanted as badly as he did but couldn’t give him was excruciating.
It took a while, but he finally cut out the complaining. It must have occurred to him he was fighting a losing battle. Mom’s rules are tough to buck. Impossible, even. And this knowledge comes from personal experience.
Vinny acts as distant as our colleges will be in the fall. He doesn’t ask me questions about anything anymore, but that’s probably because he doesn’t actually want to know the answers. He doesn’t invite me places. He never offers details about how his life is going either. Vin just picks me up when Mom allows him to drive me somewhere, and then we suffer in silence until I say something meaningless. Maybe it’s better this way, even if it feels like I’m living in an empty shell. On the bright side, I’ve become the king of small talk.
“I can’t believe graduation is Saturday, dude.” Naturally, I break the silence with lame commentary.
Vinny doesn’t take his eyes off the road to look at me. Which is fine. It’s best to look at the road when you’re in the driver’s seat.
“I know. It’s unreal.” He used to glance sideways at me so much when he was driving it made me nervous. I sort of miss his eyes fixed on me like I’m more important than the road.
“What’s your family doing to celebrate?” I ask. Our mothers aren’t so much “sisters of the heart” anymore. They’ve become as estranged as Aunt Gina is from her family by blood. I wonder if Aunt Gina knows why it happened. Maybe only Vinny and I know Mom’s reason for breaking up our “family.”
“I guess the four of us will go out to dinner someplace nice.”
He doesn’t ask how the Stecker family will celebrate. I don’t offer that we’re hosting a private pool party for Jenna and her folks. “Cool.”
We’re almost to the school when I make a decision. “She thinks graduation practice goes all afternoon…”
“Huh? You mean your mom?”
“Yeah… Mom doesn’t know we’re done at noon.”
Vin still doesn’t look at me. “So what?”
“So let’s go to the lake after rehearsal… we can swim and lie in the sun and… kick the soccer ball.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not gonna sneak around with you behind your mother’s back.”
“You make it sound like we’re Romeo and Juliet… star-crossed lovers or some shit like that.”
“Shut up, why don’t you?”
“Aren’t we sensitive?” I’m being an asshole, but I don’t care. We have a rare chance to hang out together alone and I mean to take it.
This time he doesn’t reply. Instead, he pulls the car to the shoulder of the road and points at the passenger door.
“You want me to get out?” Now I’m pissed-off. “You’re dumping me here on the side of the fucking road?” I grip the handle because I’m not going to beg anybody, even Vinny, for a ride.
“Well, you dumped me at the end of April. You spend every weekend with your girlfriend instead.”
My hand slides from the handle and I wipe my face, which is dripping wet. Sweating profusely is much more Vinny’s style than mine, but apparently my forehead isn’t aware of this. “Jenna’s not my girlfriend.”
“Well, you better tell her that because she’s got no clue.”
I turn to face him. “Okay… I kind of fell into a… thing… with Jenna. It doesn’t mean anything.”
He winces and then grits his teeth like he’s fighting tears. The last time I fed him this line was prom night. Right after I kissed Jenna on her front steps.
“Hang out with me at the lake today, Vinny. We can get caught up with each other. I’ll buy you fast food. Just say you’ll do it.”
Vinny screeches back onto the road without even checking to see if another car is coming. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only for the fast food.”
I lean back in my seat, sigh, and wipe my forehead with the hem of my shirt. And I sigh again, longer and louder this time. My relief is intense.
◆◆◆
Christian Tent Erectors and Moore—that really is Jenna’s father’s company name—set up a huge white tent behind the high school. It looks like there’s going to be a wedding, not a graduation. National Honor Society members are setting up chairs for the audience when we arrive. Jenna’s here early too. Right now, she’s helping Mr. Moore slide the podium to a perfect position on the stage. She spots me and is glued to my side in a split second.
“Heya, Tom.” Completely ignoring Vinny, she focuses on me with wide blue eyes that are hopeful for a public peck on the cheek. I squirm. And I refuse to comply. As far as I’m concerned, our brief make-out sessions will continue to be restricted to her doorstep at the conclusion of lame movie dates.
I step back. “Hi Jenna. The tent looks great.”
“Thanks.” As soon as it hits her that there’s no kiss in her near future, she leans toward me and gives me an awkward one-armed hug. “Oh, hi Vinny. I didn’t see you there.”
Vinny’s lips twist to the side and he offers her a quick salute. Maybe even a sarcastic one.
“Are you up for lunch at my house today, Tom? Mom’s making chicken salad. The kind you like—with grapes and walnuts.”
Jenna stares at Vinny as she invites me. She clearly considers him competition for my time and attention. She has no idea that if I were a free man, there would be no competition; I’d never leave the dude’s side. I’m not free, though. I’m my mother’s greatest hope for “a life in Christ.” And my father’s greatest hope for vicarious soccer glory. They extracted a promise from me that I’ll major in Biblical Studies at Our Guardian and give my all to soccer. And to Jenna, who will also attend Our Guardian College.
I can’t deny that I’m a parent pleaser of the highest order, although I don’t like it or even understand it.
But this afternoon I’m off my parents’ clock. “Sorry, Jenna. I can’t make it.” I glance at Vinny who seems enthralled with the grass beneath his feet. “I’m meeting a guy at the rec center.”
“Meet him after lunch.”
“Uh… it’s about a summer job. I can’t bail on him.”
“Oh, okay. But call me tonight.”
“Will do.” I grab Vinny by the wrist. “Let’s help Ellen with lifting that table onto the stage.” He doesn’t need to be dragged away.
◆◆◆
By unspoken agreement, after graduation practice we don’t go to the town beach on Mirror Lake. Vinny doesn’t ask a single question when I tell him to take Route 12 to Wilmot, so we can go to a more remote public beach. Where nobody from our town goes.
On the way, he swings through Betsy’s Burgers Drive-Thru and grabs two king size cheeseburger meals with root beers that I insist on paying for. It was part of the deal. We eat in the car as Vinny drives. Eating makes the silence between us more tolerable.
The parking lot is almost empty, which doesn’t disappoint me one bit. The local public schools haven’t let out for the summer yet, so even though it’s a beautiful day, the beach isn’t yet in huge demand. We cross on a skinny path through the woods and emerge on the sand. There are only a few moms watching preschoolers play in the sand by the shore. This is good. We’re almost alone.
Luckily, Vinny keeps a huge blanket in the wagon, so we spread it out on the sand, close to the woods. We stick our soda cups on the edges of the blanket, and I realize we left the soccer ball in the car.
“I’ll go back and grab the ball,” I offer.
“Nah. Not in the mood to play.”
I’ve never known Vinny to be not in the mood for kicking a soccer ball. But he’s been acting as different to me lately as I have to him. “Then let’s go for a walk.”
He shrugs like he doesn’t give a shit what we do, but I can tell from the stiffness of his shoulders that he’s putting on an I’m-so-cool act. “Sure.”
We toe off our sneakers and he follows me through the white sand down to the shore. I head in the opposite direction from where the moms and kids play. “Nice day, huh?”
“Yup.”
“I don’t think there’s a cloud in the sky.”
“If you get a sunburn Aunt Sheila’s gonna ask questions about where you’ve been.”
He’s right, but at the moment I don’t care. I shrug off my button-down shirt and tie the sleeves low on my waist. “Take your shirt off, dude. It’s hot as hell out here.”
Vinny stops walking and turns toward me. He tilts his head, clearly thinking about my demand, and then whips off his T-shirt and stuffs the hem into the back of his basketball shorts. He’s more ripped than last time I saw him without a shirt. He looks damn good.
“You’ve been working out, V-man.”
“I’ve had time on my hands.” His attention seems to be drawn to a distant point on the lake.
“Shit—I’m sorry about that.” What else can I say?
“Seventeen years of being cousins, T, and it all ended with one stupid hug in your driveway.”
I shove his shoulder, probably harder than necessary, so he’ll look at me. “It’s not over.”
He refuses to pull his gaze from the water. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“And we’re not fucking cousins.”
This statement gets his attention. He shifts his gaze my way, narrows his eyes, and snarls, “Then what are we? Tell me that. Because friends hang out together and we don’t—not anymore.” Vinny spins on his heel and heads toward the spot we planted the blanket on the sand. And he grumbles as he walks away, “Coming here with you was a dumb idea. I’m leaving.”
He wants me to spell it out, and I’m desperate enough to do it—I miss everything about him. Mostly I miss how I can be myself with him; I don’t know who the hell I am when I spend all my time with my parents and Jenna. I chase after him.
Vinny is shaking out the blanket when I reach our spot on the beach. “Lay it back down, dude.”
“Why the hell should I? You and me… we’re a done deal. We’ll go off to college in a couple of months and never see each other again.”
I snatch the blanket from his hands and spread it out again. “Just sit down.”
“Nah. I’m outta here.” He picks up his sneakers and empty soda cup and stares at the path to the parking lot. “If you want a ride home, it’d be in your best interest to get your butt in gear too.”
Instead of grabbing my shoes, though, I latch onto his arm and yank him onto the blanket beside me. “We’re gonna talk.”
“You haven’t got anything to say that I wanna hear.”
“How about… how about that I can’t keep on g-going w-without you?” My voice never shakes. But it just did.
Once again, Vinny turns toward me, but he fixes his gaze on my lips rather than my eyes. “What about your mother? Your girlfriend?” He clears his throat and then grits his teeth. “And what about your God?”
My eyes fill up, which is unexpected as hell. Vinny’s the dude who shows how he feels, not me. Maybe I’m getting soft, but I need Vinny to listen to me. I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt and sniff once. “I don’t give a single shit about any of them right now.”
“Right now…” he echoes softly, and then asks, “Right now?”
As much as I want to, I can’t make promises. “Look, dude… we’ve got this summer, so let’s make it count.” My hands rise to the sides of his face as if they have minds of their own—I sure didn’t give them permission to touch him this way. I brush his stubble with the sides of my thumbs; it feels so much better than Jenna’s smooth cheeks. “It’ll be you and me all summer, I swear. What do you say?”
A trickle of wetness from Vinny’s eye rolls over one of my thumbs. He doesn’t wipe it away. And he finally meets my gaze. In the sunlight, his eyes are the color of coffee with a tiny bit of cream. Or maybe even lighter, like butterscotch. I couldn’t look away from the sweetness in his gaze if my life depended on it. And I think maybe it does, because for the past few months, without Vinny beside me, it’s been hard to find a reason to get up in the morning.
“What happens at the end of the summer?” he asks. His question should sound like an accusation that I’m going to dump him again, but it doesn’t. It’s quiet and careful—and not a question that expects an answer. Or even wants one. He closes his eyes. “You and Jenna are going to the same college.”
“But we’ve got this summer.” I don’t answer his question because I don’t know how to answer it. I know what I want, but I can’t make a promise I may break—not to Vinny. All I can do is hope I’ll grow big enough balls by the end of August to be true to myself… to claim the life I want.
He grinds his teeth, like it actually hurts to open his eyes. When he does, our gazes once again lock. His pain is plain to see in the few tears he’s allowed and in his obvious wariness. “Okay.” Vinny sighs. He’s giving in to something he knows is dangerous.
“Okay?”
“We’ve got the summer. I’m not going to think about what comes next.” Vinny doesn’t smile; I don’t think this is a happy moment for him.
I do my best to fake a grin. “It’ll be the best summer ever.”
He doesn’t agree or disagree in actual words, but he nods. Just once, and so quickly I would’ve missed it had I blinked.
“Give me your keys. I’m going to grab your ball out of the wagon.” He always keeps a soccer ball on the floor of the back seat.
Vinny digs his keys out of the pocket of his shorts and holds them out to me.
“I’ll be right back.”
He flops down flat on the blanket and says, “I’ll be here waiting.”
◆◆◆
We haven’t played one on one since before the championships. Until right now. I’m sucking wind from a solid hour of attacking and shooting between two scraggly fir trees, and Vinny is sweating his ass off from his efforts at defending our designated goal. I’d almost forgotten what soccer meant to us. Not to me as an individual, but to us.
I drop down on my ass on the blanket while Vinny runs off toward the car and returns a couple of minutes later with two water bottles from the back seat.
“I’m out of shape—got no endurance,” he says and hands me a bottle. “It’s kinda warm.”
“We’ll get you back in shape for soccer season by mid-July, dude.”
Vinny doesn’t sit on the blanket. He raises his eyebrows and stands there looking at me. “We?”
“That’s what I said.”
“But is it what you mean?”
“Damn it, Vin! You know what happened after the prom wasn’t by my choice!” The way I bailed out on our friendship needs to be talked about. It’ll be easier on both of us if it happens in the context of an argument.
But he doesn’t take the bait. “I know.”
“Mom… thinks… that…” I need to spit this out. “She thinks we have feelings for each other. Beyond buddies, you know?”
Vinny sucks down his entire water bottle, tosses it onto the blanket, and heads for the lake. I’m not exactly a follower--except when it comes to Mom and Dad—but I’m willing to follow him right now. I drain my drink in a second and run after him.
One dip of my big toe tells me that the first part of June is way too fucking early in the season to swim in a central New Hampshire lake, but Vinny’s toe apparently didn’t send his brain the same message. He steps into the lake to his thighs and dives. What choice do I have? I’m in up to my waist before he emerges.
“Splash me and you’re dead,” I quip as he shakes the water from his hair.
“Would I do that to you?” His eyes sparkle, and I know if I don’t dive I’m looking at slow water torture by splashing. I dive in his direction and force myself to tread water instead of charging onto the beach and rolling in the warm sand. Vinny sinks down into the water in front of me.
“Fuck. It feels like a glacier just melted and we’re bathing in it.”
“Don’t be such a wimp,” he teases.
“I’m never a wimp, dude.”
“Yeah, you are…” I’m fairly certain he isn’t talking about the ice-cold water anymore. He’s referring to how I let my mother control my life without an argument.
“I’ll tell Mom that she can’t break us apart. We’re best friends and…”
“And what? And we want to be more? You can’t tell her that.”
“Could you tell your folks that?” I demand.
“Yeah, I think I could.” Vinny’s being honest. The Buccis are way more accepting than my family.
I change the subject. “We’ll spend all of our free time together this summer.”
“As what? Best friends?” Now it seems like Vinny’s the one who wants to provoke a fight.
“Why do we need to call it something? Let’s just be together as much as we can.”
Vinny shakes his head and stands. I’m immediately scared he’s going to tell me he’s leaving again, and I can’t handle that.
So I take a risk. “You’re mine, Vinny.” I clutch his arm and drag him back into the water. “And that’s all there is to it.”
He’s close to me. As close as the nights I slept in his bed, with our shoulders pushed together. As close as we were in my driveway on prom night when I held him against me and could feel him breathe. But it isn’t enough. I throw my arms around his shoulders and do what I’ve wanted to do since I was twelve: I press my lips against his.
For a few seconds, we don’t actually kiss. My cold lips just crush his; neither of us moves. Maybe we’re in too much shock to do anything but freeze like statues.
But soon Vinny comes alive. “You’re mine too,” he utters against my lips, and he takes control. He moves his head in such a way that mine is forced backward, and I find myself looking up at him. His tongue plunges inside my mouth. He’s pretty much frantic as he tastes every last inch of me. “Mine,” he says again, and then again, each time his voice is raspier. I desperately need to breathe, but I need to be owned by him even more. So I cling to his head by his ears, refusing to let go, although I’m ready to pass out. Vinny must sense my need for air; he pulls away abruptly. We both gasp.
I glance to the shore to see whether we have an audience of mothers and toddlers, but we’re now alone on the beach. I breathe again, this time with relief. Vinny’s eyes stay glued to me.
“You’re mine,” he states—his tone now calm and factual, as if he’s informing me that it’s time for dinner. He turns and heads for the beach.
I watch as Vinny stomps away, wondering and waiting… until he does the thing I never do: he slows so that he can glance over his shoulder to check for my response.
And I nod. Because he’s right. I’m his.
◆◆◆
I stare out into the crowd of family and friends who have gathered to celebrate a momentous event in our lives, their faces proud of what we’ve accomplished and hopeful for what’s in store. For me, graduation day isn’t one of simple joyfulness, though. It’s a balancing act between pleasing my parents, who have supported and provided for me, and connecting with Vinny, who has always been by my side.
And in the face of this goodbye to childhood and hello to future endeavors, shouldn’t high school graduation revolve around a final bonding with our journey’s companions? Isn’t my most significant companion, from day one to today, Vince Bucci?
This is how I see it. Vinny does too. In fact, most of the students and families share this viewpoint. But not my parents. To them, my graduation from Wynne Academy focuses on celebrating what I’m leaving behind—how I’m turning away from my past to face the blessed future they chose for me.
I watch Vinny walk across the stage—he looks like everything I want to hold onto forever. In his blue cap and gown, he shakes hands with the principal, who smiles at him and they exchange a few words. He receives his diploma with a grin, and my heart pounds so hard I wonder if it might burst. He takes a moment to turn all the way around and glance at me, and I have to swallow deeply because my eyes sting. He gives me a thumbs-up, as if his accomplishment is mine. And in many ways, it is. We did this together.
When it’s my turn to receive my diploma, I return the favor. I send him a smile and a fist pump. As I turn back around, I catch a glimpse of Jenna blowing me a kiss. And all I can think is that my parents are watching… and that Vinny is watching too. The kiss I blow her isn’t nearly as enthusiastic as the grin I sent Vinny. It’s half-hearted, but it’s there. My cheeks burn, and I want to bolt from the stage. Thank fuck I’m good at hiding my feelings. I put my head down and return to my seat.
We march out to a song that I last heard when MJ and Dave graduated. My brothers shout for me in the audience, and Dee’s voice yells for Vinny. Their shouts come from opposite sides of the tent, which reminds me that we’re no longer one family. The Buccis and the Steckers are nothing to each other now. Mere acquaintances, at most. My eyes sting again, but anyone who notices would likely think that I’m touched by the music and the marching and the bittersweet moment.
As I pass through the crowd, my gaze meets with Mrs. Bucci’s. Who is no longer my cool Aunt Gina. Her eyes are exactly like Vinny’s—coffee brown and too light for her tan skin and… so sad. But as melancholy as her eyes appear, her smile is sweet. She mouths the words, “Good, job, Tommy” and a surge of longing for the way it used to be almost knocks me over. All I can do is nod.
The expression in Dee’s eyes, however, is prickly. She makes no attempt to hide her fury at my complicit abandonment. And she refuses to look away, leaving me to be the coward who shifts his gaze briefly to the grass.
Something compels me to search out my former uncle. Mr. Bucci smiles at me with closed lips; his expression doesn’t scream, “I’m hurt!” like his wife’s, or “I hate you!” like Dee’s. I can’t read the face of this uncomplicated man, which seems wrong. So much has changed in such a short time. Again, I look away before he can. My head is engulfed in a dark cloud of shame, and the grass in front of me is the safest zone for my attention. It stays there until the procession is over.
My brothers are the first to find me at the ceremony’s conclusion. They’re all high fives and arm punches, which is par for the course. Jenna and her family are the next ones to my side, followed by my parents. Mom, Dad, and Mr. and Mrs. Moore look on as I congratulate my girlfriend. Mom thrusts a bouquet of flowers into my hands and nods at Jenna, so I obediently offer them to her. Then Jenna is in my arms, thanking me and hugging me. It’s a meaningless blur of words and hugs, and all I can think about is Vinny.
“Excuse me for a minute,” I say when Jenna releases me. “I’ll be right back.”
Everybody looks at me like I suggested that we all strip naked and skip across the stage. Still, I head straight to where Vinny stands with his folks. This summer Vinny is my priority. We established this at the beach the day before yesterday.
“Hey, V-man.” I stand right in front of him. It feels too good to be this close.
Vinny reaches out to shake my hand, but I bat it away and pull him into a hug. I move my hands slowly down his back, taking in the taut strength I know so well and appreciate more than I can let anyone know. And almost more than I can admit even to myself. By the time they reach the dip in his lower back, my hands are trembling. I never want to let go.
“You did it. You’re a high school graduate,” I murmur into his ear.
“Just like you,” he replies.
I step back and officially greet his family. “It’s been a while… I missed you guys.” I don’t offer an explanation. It’s way too complicated. And painful.
“We missed you too, Tom,” Mrs. Bucci says and offers me that same sweet sad smile from a few minutes earlier.
“I hope we see more of you this summer,” Mr. Bucci adds.
“I guarantee you will.” I mean it.
Dee folds her arms over her chest. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” She sounds so bitter. I wonder whether Vinny has confided in her about our feelings for each other, and how I cut and run to please my mother.
“Then you should believe it,” I reply, my voice curt.
“Hey, Tom! Mom and Dad sent me over to get you!” MJ doesn’t come close enough to the Buccis to say hello. He doesn’t even glance at them, and I wonder what he thinks is the reason for our distant status to our former family. Mom and Dad must have filled his head with something interesting, but not the truth of her suspicions about Vinny and me. The truth’s too ugly.
“I’ve got to go, but uh, have a great dinner tonight.” I’m so lame, it’s like a damned crime. I wink at Vinny and head back to my folks and the Moores so we can celebrate what I truly want to rejoice in with my best friend.