Green With Envy: The Turning of a Friendship

“Grover?” I asked, looking at my friend and noticing how content he looked lounging from under our favorite willow, his arms crossed behind his head.

“You know I hate that nickname, Sarah-Meagan. But because it’s you, I’ll allow it.” Grover, or actually Nickolas Lincoln Carrington III, replied while repositioning himself.

I couldn’t help but smile at his mock annoyance. Ever since I could remember, both of our families had called him Grover but it was a name he refused to answer to in public. Instead, he always opted for people to call him Car; as Nick was his Father and Lincoln his Grandfather.

“Oh, come on now. You’re sleeping when we came down here to talk about my latest predicament.” I said, smoothing out my skirts.

“Pish posh.” Grover said, sitting up. “It’s always something and if you’re going to tell me about how you’re thinking of entertaining Charlie since I heard he wants to take you to the dance, I swear I’ll get sick right here.”

“Oh please. Like you care. Besides, you could have asked me by now and you didn’t.” I retort back, instantly realizing the mistake I had made. Grover wasn’t supposed to know how my feelings about him had changed this past year. Would he read into my flippant response and pick up on the fact that I had wanted him to ask me to the dance, not anyone else? I twist the fabric of my skirt and try to take a nonchalant glance over at Glover, my heart hammering as I try to act as if I didn’t just share the year-long secret I had been keeping.

“You know I’m not going to the dance.” Grover says, after a beat of silence. “I told you that.”

“And? I’m just supposed to sit at home and let the fun happen without me?”

“You wouldn’t have to sit at home. We always end up doing something together.”

I sigh at Grover’s words, both frustrated and annoyed I let myself ever see him more than a friend. “That’s part of the problem.” I say, standing up abruptly. “I always pick you first. You always pick me, last.”

Sighing, I duck under the swaying willow’s branches and feel the sun’s rays warm up my skin as I move out from under the willow’s protection and like a sixth sense, I also feel Grover’s eyes on me. But unlike what I would have done if the roles were reversed, he doesn’t call out to stop me.

Back home, I do my best to sneak up to my room, wanting to be alone to lick my wounds and think things through. Yet, like a hound dog on the hunt, my mother calls out to me just as I go to take my first step onto the staircase.

“Sarah-Meagan? Charlie Daniels called. He said he’d call back in a little bit, when I told you’d stepped out. Want to invite him over to dinner? I’ve made plenty. If not, maybe Grover can come?” My Mother finishes just as she makes her way out from the kitchen into the living room, smoothing the top of her beehive, though I don’t see a hair out of place. “Marge mentioned her and Bill were going out tonight. So, maybe invite both boys over if they know each other? I play bridge with Charlie’s mom, so I’m sure she wouldn’t be opposed to Charlie stopping by. Whatcha think, baby?”

I take in my Mother’s words. She, like Grover, is oblivious to my predicament but unlike Grover knows how to string together more than a few words. “I don’t think Grover will want to come.”

“Oh, nonsense Honey. You know he’s never one to turn down a free meal. I’m going to call Marge and tell her to send Grover over for dinner and then I’ll phone Betty to ask about Charlie coming. Go ahead and freshen up.” And with that, my Mother shashays to the couch’s side table and grabs for the rotary phone’s receiver. By the time I make it up the stairs, I hear Mother’s voice raise an octave and I know Marge answered.

As I’m tucking my fresh blouse into my skirt, I can’t help but wonder if things will be awkward with Grover. Though, if Charlie comes, which I’m sure he will, I know it will be. For whatever reason, Grover didn’t like it when he mentioned he thought Charlie was going to ask me to the dance. But then again, Grover could have asked me to go if he was really that concerned. I sigh and tell myself to breathe as I reach for my favorite perfume to dab on my wrists and behind my ears. There’s no need in me getting reworked up. Grover doesn’t have to like me back, though I must admit it stings just the same.

As I slip into my loafers, I hear the knock at the front door and take one last look at myself in my dresser mirror before smoothing my hair one last time. Here goes nothing.

Making my way down the stairs, I hear Charlie’s voice and I immediately relax. Maybe Grover said no after all.

“Ahh there she is.” My Mother coo’s as soon as she sees me making my way down. “Sarah-Meagan, look what beautiful flowers Charlie’s brought over.” At this, Charlie moves towards me and smiles broadly.

“You look beautiful Sarah-Meagan. These are for you.”

My stomach flip flops at his comment as I really take in Charlie for the first time without looking and thinking of him how he compares with Grover. I think it’s his dimples that makes me smile warmly back at him. “Thank you, Charlie. I’m glad you were able to make it.” I say as I reach for the bouquet and bring the flowers up to my nose to inhale the sweet scent to cover my cheesy smile. I like this.

“Well, it's about time I grab the casserole out of the oven. You two chat while I finish up in the kitchen. I’ll call you all when it’s ready.”

“Yes, Mother.” I say at the same time Charlie responds with “Yes ma’am.” I laugh at our synchronicity as I go to sit down on the loveseat and Charlie takes a seat on the edge of Mother’s prized Victorian chaise.

“So,” Charlie begins, wasting no time at all, “I wanted to ask you to the dance this Friday. Would you like to go with me?”

I take in the way his hands are squeezing his kneecaps and how straight he’s sitting, I think I even see a bead of sweat forming. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Charlie Daniels was nervous.

I take this observation in and feel my cheeks warm as I realize I’m the reason he’s nervous, he doesn’t know what I will say. I mull this thought over in my mind, making note of how nice it feels having this shift of power that I’m not used to having, then scold myself for being so shallow. Just as I’m about to answer Charlie, the knock at the door stops me. I know that knock and any second now, Grover will be opening the front door– as Grover has done since we were kids, just like I do at his house, with our special knock.

My chest tightens and I feel my blood rush to my ears, overwhelmed at the prospect of my unresolved feelings towards Grover and my new found awareness of Charlie. When Grover opens the front door, I instinctively rise up from my seat, suddenly feeling as if I’m doing something wrong even though Charlie is across the room.

I watch Grover as he takes in the flowers on the couch and then turns to make note of Charlie and ever so lightly, I see his jaw clench. His telltale sign he’s either upset or hurt.

“Sarah-Megan. Charlie.” Grover nods curtly, making eye contact only with me as he says it.

“Car. Nice to see you. I’ve actually been meaning to catch you, knowing how close you are to Sarah-Meagan.” Charlie rises and strides over to Grover to shake his hand and smiles not noticing Grover’s tenseness. As the boy's hands meet, I see Grover’s jaw clenching once again. How interesting.

“Of course. We are close.” Grover replies but turns his head to meet my gaze once again as he says it. Grover’s never looked this intently at me before.

“I’d say so, the way you just came on in.” Charlie chuckles. “You live here, man?”

I can tell he’s joking and trying to make light of the situation, but suddenly it dawns on me how odd that must have been seeing Grover just come in the way he did.

“Old habits die hard. We’ve been doing this since elementary. Sarah-Meagan does the same at my house.” Groover responds, his voice oddly curt.

What in the world is going on? I wonder. But before I could think any more about it, Mother makes her way back into the living room, the carpet stopping the clink of her pumps.

“Oh good– you did make it, Grover. Your mom said you weren’t home when I called earlier so I wasn’t sure if you’d get the message or not to just come on over.

“Yes ma’am. I just got here a few minutes ago.” Grover said, catching my eye again.

“Well, splendid. I was just finishing up in the kitchen. Ed phoned earlier and said he was working late, so it will just be the four of us– Sarah-Meagan, Charlie, Grover, let’s get to it.”

Charlie immediately steps to make his way towards the kitchen door, while Grover and I have a stare off, each of us daring the other to go first.

“Mrs. James?” Charlie initiates, ahead of us. “I brought over some flowers for Sarah-Meagan. Would you happen to have a vase? I can get them set up for her before we eat.”

“Oh, yes. Of course, dear. I was just about to ask.” Mother replies, grinning. “You know, Sarah-Meagan loves flowers. In fact, roses are her favorite.” Mother turns her head around as she finishes the sentence and winks at me. I can’t help but laugh since it’s so uncharacteristic for her to be so playful. Normally she’s the epitome of proper, pearls and all.

As Mother busies herself helping Charlie after I passed the flowers off to her, I sense Grover’s presence behind me and stiffen as I feel his breath against my ear.

“Why is he here?” Grover growls. “And roses are not your favorite.”

I bite my tongue, wanting to both lash out at him and kiss him in the same breath.

“Nickolas Lincoln Carrington, the third.” I hiss, “Now is not the time.”

And before I can say anything else, Mother announces in her sing-song company voice, something that makes the air even more charged with Grover’s energy. “Oh Grover, honey. Did you hear? Charlie has asked Sarah-Meagan to the dance– isn’t that exciting? Have you asked anyone yet?”

The End