Read Online Thank You for the Music by Jane Mccafferty - Free Book Online Page A

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    â€œHey,” Albie Rooch said. “There’s the lezzy.”
    â€œThat’s Anne,” I argued. “Don’t say that.”
    â€œYou don’t know she’s a lez?”
    Now Anne and her friend were approaching us.
    â€œHi, Anne!” I said, my heart pounding.
    â€œHi,” Anne said, smiling. “Remember Margie? Margie, this is Grace and this is . . .”
    â€œAlbie,” I said, and he was looking off into the sky, arrogant, disdainful, and bored.
    Anne said something benign about the beauty of the day, and I looked at her with new, suspicious eyes, and saw that Albie was right, and it hit me all at once, in the stomach. No man in her life, no makeup, this friend with the haircut like a man’s. How had I not seen it all before?
    â€œNot much to say today, Gracie?” Anne said, because I looked down at my feet, hating that I hadn’t known, hating that I’d associated myself with her, that she’d meant so much to me, that she’d done all those paintings of me.
    â€œNo, not much to say,” I said, too loudly, and off I ran with Albie, down the tracks. We wandered up into the trees, where he got a hungry kiss, as if kissing him that way could somehow obliterate whatever I felt for Anne.
    â€œSo you finally got tired of Anne, I see,” my mother said one August night. The little kids were in bed, Lorine was in Sea Isle City with her kids visiting her sister, and my mother and I were up late watching Marcus Welby, M.D.
    â€œYep,” I said.
    It was dark in that living room, the windows were all open, the heat of day had given way to cool breezes. My mother was in an armchair and I was sprawled on the gray couch. It had been a long time since we’d watched anything together. We lived with a huge distance between us, and most of our talk consisted of her yelling for me to help with my brothers, or me yelling to her that I was going out.
    â€œI don’t think you’re being fair to her,” my mother said.
    â€œTo who?”
    â€œFair to your friend Anne. You can’t keep lying and saying you’re busy. You two were good friends. I don’t like to see you drop a friend like that, even if she wasn’t my favorite person.”
    I kept my eyes on handsome Steve Kiley, the motorcycle-riding doctor that shared Marcus Welby’s office.
    â€œYou never struck me as mean, Gracie, and this is mean.”
    â€œWhy do you care now? You and Lorine talked about her like she was a weirdo, and you were right!”
    â€œNo, no, I was wrong. And Lorine, you know her, she’s Lorine. She’s had a hard life.”
    â€œNo, you were right! Anne’s queer! She’s a lesbian!”
    A silence filled the living room.
    My mother finally said, “There’s certainly worse things.”
    â€œHow can you say that? In that tone? Like it’s no big deal?”
    â€œOh, Gracie,” my mother said. “So what? She treated you nice. Remember that old friend of mine you met in Philadelphia? Theresa? She’s a lesbian. I’ve known her since she was eight. So what.”
    â€œSo what! I don’t want to be her friend anymore! It is a big deal!”
    â€œWell then, you’ll have to tell her that. I will not lie for you anymore. Anne’s a human being and she deserves an explanation. Every time I see her she asks about you. I really think you need to talk to her.”
    â€œI can’t!”
    â€œYou’re a big girl.”
    â€œOh sure, I’m so big I can walk up to her and say, ‘I don’t want to come over anymore because you’re a lez.’”
    â€œI won’t lie for you,” my mother said. “And the word is lesbian, Gracie.”
    I didn’t tell Anne anything. Lorine and her kids came back lobster red from Sea Isle, and another school year started, and I kissed Albie Rooch every day in the alleys of town, or on the playground at night. My