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Before That

The alarm goes off at 6, playing “We Built This City” by Starship — a song he hates so much that he selected it for this purpose. The dog comes in and sits at the side of the bed, waiting impatiently to be let out and fed. It’s still dark. He lies there for several minutes, willing his eyes open and staring at the ceiling. Counting his obligations for the day, Jonathon Tuttle gradually wakes up.

After taking care of the dog, Jon’s morning routine includes an hour of exercise — it’s weights day. Then coffee, breakfast, shower and the 38-minute commute to work. Habitually late, Jon is often rushed and a little grouchy in the morning. His snapping at Lilly replays on his drive in. He’ll text her an apology and heart emoji once he parks.

Jon spends most of his time working as an accountant. He has been at this job 18 months and has received one verbal and one written warning. It is still in the bin by his desk. On the wall, a Kaizen Continuous Improvement poster helps keep him motivated. It was a company gift during his first real job as a bank teller. Work is time exchanged for money that allows him to live the remaining hours of his day. It is the time outside of work that is Jon’s to shape.

When he arrives home, Lilly has made supper. They eat meatloaf and sip wine spritzers at the kitchen table, chuckling at the day’s news. After dinner, they watch Twin Peaks. Halfway through the second season, Leland has just died.

The day’s obligations met, Jon enjoys an hour or two before bed doing whatever he wants. There are several activities available during this time. Jon considers himself lucky to hold many diverse interests.

Lately it’s been shooting hoops in the driveway. The goal is to make a basket whenever prompted. Jon has never been prompted to make a basket, but scenes frequently run through his mind where he’ll need to perform this task in front of lots of people. Maybe at a Celtics game during halftime, or a company event.

After an hour of practice, he sits on the front steps with a beer, wiping his head with a hand towel. His mind repeats a clip of him just missing the free throw to a smattering of consolation applause. One in four through the hoop? Not good enough. Anyway, it’s getting colder and darker in the evenings, and he hasn’t gotten around to fixing the outdoor light.

Maybe he should spend his free time practicing the saxophone instead. He played in the high school band, sitting next to the beautiful Wendy Higgins. He’s kept it up over the years, playing now and then. There must be bands with grownups he could join. It’s decided.

The next day, they have burgers and home fries for dinner. On Twin Peaks, Nadine gets admitted as a student. Jon and Lilly discuss 14-year-old Nathan’s grades. He needs a pep talk and maybe some help with math. Jon will have a talk with him. He still doesn’t mention the warnings at work.

Afterward, Jon goes downstairs to the den and digs through the closet to find his saxophone case. Opening it releases a familiar smell of polish and mold. On top of the instrument, he finds a note written hastily on a torn electric bill. “Don’t bother.” Jon holds the note in his hand for a moment, staring. He doesn’t remember it, but that’s his handwriting.

How long has it been since he played? Two years? Three? Undeterred, he removes the instrument and attaches the neck strap. Attempting to play a scale, he can’t remember the fingering. He has trouble making any sound at all. He wonders if there’s something wrong with it — could probably use a good cleaning.

The instrument finds its way back into the case and the case back into the closet. The note is still sitting on the table. Jon is sitting on the couch, staring at it, wondering if anyone heard him playing. Before shooting hoops he tried his hand at watercolors. A passable rendering of their house leans against the wall. Before that? He was training for the New York marathon, but couldn’t find the time to rack up enough miles. Before that, he’s not sure.

He can hear Lilly upstairs getting ready for bed. The dog hears it too, gets up off the floor and stands by the door, waiting. He grabs the note on the table, crushes it into a ball and tosses it into the bin. Nothing but net. He thinks about the talk he has to have with Nathan and considers brushing up on his high school math. Maybe he could be a math tutor, pivot into a teaching career. Climbing the stairs to let the dog out, Jon browses used math textbooks on his phone.

We showed up late. Mom had misjudged the timing on some fancy dessert, and I’d been rude about it. Walking down the driveway with my parents, I felt awkward and exposed in a summer dress. I wanted to wear my standard hoodie and jeans but Mom made a federal case out of it. Pretty much everyone I knew and their families would be scattered around the house and back yard. My classmates were dressed slightly nicer than usual. A band playing old people music in the back yard finished a song to a trickle of clapping.

It was Columbus Day weekend, all fall-harvest vibes. Jake said most of our freshman class was coming. Too bad Amy couldn’t make it. She was in Maine, leaving me to fend for myself. This big yard party on the reservoir had been an annual tradition for our class since the 5th grade, the year Jake’s family moved here.

I told my parents I was going to find Robin, my only other sanctuary here. I tried to look casual as I walked around, scanning for her. Steph and Marcus stopped me and said hi. They didn’t think Robin was here. Ugh! I played it cool and went to get a drink. I grabbed a grape soda and looked for a place to hide. The patio had a bunch of parents milling about, so I went and stood there against the wall, hoping nobody noticed me as I sipped with great purpose. The dad band started up with another song.

Then I saw Rex walking toward me from across the yard. I checked around to see if he was looking at someone else. Rex was the new kid this year. From Wisconsin? Then Ireland for a couple years? Now here. Something like that. I’d only spoken to him once during a group discussion in English.

Oh, he was just grabbing a drink from the cooler. He opened it and stood there. I wondered if he had nobody to talk to just as he turned around and caught me staring at him. I looked away, but he meandered over, stopped next to me and said what’s up. Hey, I said. We stood in silence for a few moments. Do you wanna go check out the lake?

It’s a reservoir, I was going to say, but thankfully caught myself. Sure. I forgot, you’ve never been here before, right?

Once to drop Jake off when he needed a lift, but no, not really. Rex was friends with the band kids. I’d never really noticed this guy, to be honest. Big head of wavy but short red hair, skinny. He was wearing jeans and a light plaid button down shirt, tucked in. Dorky brown shoes. He suddenly seemed impossibly attractive. Like how was I not going to screw this up. My hands, feet, upper lip, armpits — everything sweating. Ugh. I silently cursed the dress. Sure, I’ll take you down there, I said.

We walked too slowly with our sodas held up like we were at a cocktail party. I needed to think of something to say. It must be hard being the new kid. How are you getting on?

Oh, good, he said. I’m used to it. We’ve moved around a lot. People here are a little different, after Ireland. But yeah, everyone’s been super nice. I asked him about his friends there. He said they were rich, like stupid rich. Because of the school he was at.

We had to get into single file when we reached the path through the trees. He stopped and let me go in front of him. I could feel him watching me from behind and caught myself trying to not look too boyish walking on the uneven path littered with leaves. Amy was away, Robin was nowhere to be found, and here I am going down to the res with Rex.

When we reached the shore, he stood next to me and we looked out onto the water. I was desperate to keep the conversation going, but my brain had gone to mush. I kept asking about his stupid rich friends. Every angle. I was SO interested. Even as he became noticeably done with it. At one point I asked if they had help getting dressed like in Downton Abbey.

Cringe as it was, the memory’s a good one. The afternoon sun shone on us as we stood by the water, leaves starting to turn. Rex had asked me to the res and was still there talking to me, despite my terrible conversation skills. He would turn and look at me when he spoke. I was overflowing with excitement and anticipation, trying desperately not to show it. Finally, he changed the subject and said he liked my dress.

It often comes to me when I’m trying to fall asleep. The warm fall day, of Rex and possibility and new feelings. The dress I wore to school even as the weather turned too cold for it. I bask there for a time before thinking about my kids, healthy and safe in their beds. My husband beside me, lightly snoring.