Ghost Time

dirty nose-sucker! Gross!
    Anyhow, Sunday, I turned over, resting my chin on my hands, and I always think about how we share everything, but I couldn’t help thinking maybe I shouldn’t have asked that. Then he said, Heart attack. My dad had a heart attack in the shower, he said, and I figured he wasn’t upset that I asked, because I could hear him giving the silver metal pen a good shake, stirring up the ink. I wasn’t going to say anything more about it, but then he said, I don’t remember, except that at the funeral, I heard somebody say that it’s quite common for men to have heart attacks in the shower. I don’t know if that’s true, but for a couple years, I was afraid of taking a shower. I go, What’s your excuse now? like the words just started coming out, without my thinking about them. Ohmygod. I felt so terrible, too, because we were talking about his dad, and I shouldn’t have made a joke. Awful, I know. And I turned my head to look at him, wincing, and then he just staredat me, didn’t say a word for like a minute. I really started worrying, too, and then he goes, Oh, Thea made a funny, and I go, I am so sorry—I didn’t mean it like that, and he goes, Are you? Are you really sorry? And I said, Yes, I am. And he goes, Well, then, let’s have a look. Stand up for me. Because he knew I wouldn’t say no, you know?
    But when he said that, I got all tense. I still get embarrassed, being naked in front of him, and I was trying to think of an excuse not to get up. Up, he said. I want to see my latest masterpiece. So I got up and stood on my bed, and I was ready to get under the covers again, and he says, Turn around, and I’m like, Cam, no, kinda whining, you know? He goes, Let me see the back, and I said, That’s the problem! Why do I always have to be the one to turn around? Thee, please? Two seconds, he said, crawling forward, crouching right behind me, inspecting his work—wasn’t even really looking at me, either—like he was more into his work than me, and I was like, Cam. What’s up with that? Then he goes, Yep. I think they’re done, looking at the new style of shoes he’d drawn on both feet. Come on, he said, getting up and holding out his hand for me. We’ll take a picture.
    We always take a Polaroid of the shoes he draws, so I got up and got my camera out of the closet. I used to keep notebooks—well, I still keep notebooks with all these collages I make of pictures I rip out of magazines. So one time, I was showing one of my notebooks to Cam, telling him how I fantasize about having a closet full of shoes, all stored in their original boxes, with a Polaroid tacked to each box, so you can see a picture of the shoes. And then Cam said, Why don’t you do that now? I said, BecauseI don’t have a closet full of amazing shoes, that’s why. So then, one day, we were hanging out, and I don’t know why, but Cam started drawing a shoe on my foot. And it was cool; it was like this paisley high-top, so I asked him to draw me another, and he did. And when he was done, he had me stand on the kitchen table so he could take a picture.
    So that’s what we were doing on Sunday, when I hear this whining guitar solo out in front of the building. Seriously, I’m standing there, naked on our kitchen table, while Cam’s working on the best angle for the shot of my shoes, and just as the Polaroid ejects the picture, I hear Ray’s car pulling up front. And I screamed, They’re home! holding out my hand for Cam to help me down. So we sprinted to my room, started throwing our clothes on, knowing we had like twenty seconds, and Cam held up my shirt, shaking it at me, like, You’re wearing my shirt, give me my shirt, and I was just like, Let me put my pants on! So I threw his shirt back at him at the same moment he threw my shirt at me, and we ran to the living room, jumped on the couch, and I turned on the TV the second—I mean, the very second Mom and Raymond walked in.
    Hey, you two, Mom said, and I was just like, Hey, Mom, and Cam goes, Hey, Renee, hey, Raymond. Totally normal, right? And I grabbed the remote from the coffee table, because the news was on. What’s up? I asked, meaning, like, why are you home already? Look at this, she said, showing me where she spilled coffee all over her blouse. Just want to change, and then we’re going to get a bite to eat. She goes, You two want to join us? And I go, Nah, thanks, we’re going to do some work.
    So Mom went to change and Ray took a