Joe's Room

A selected story from "Thirteen Views" (Senior Honors Thesis)

The funeral was over. Elaina and Dave drove back to the house in silence. When they pulled into the driveway, Elaina jumped out of the car and rushed inside, passing hoards of people clustered in the hallway. Biting her lip, Elaina went to the back bedroom – Joe’s bedroom – and shut the door. For the first time all day she let herself cry. With the door shut, she could make herself believe that Joe was on the other side about to come in.

Elaina took a deep, shuttering breath and walked to the bed, sunk onto the comforter, letting her shoes slip from her feet. She lay back, letting her curly blond hair spread out on Joe’s pillow. The bedspread was cold and unruffled, so unlike the last time when she and Joe and fallen asleep, his arm resting heavily across her shoulder. She had woken up before him and barely breathed, afraid she’d awaken him, shattering the seeming eternity of the previous night. When they woke up, they’d call it quits like they’d talked about – like sensible people going off to college, not like those couples who tried something long-distance. She’d fly to New York to start her freshman year at Columbia, and he’d head down the road to Ole Miss.

“We can date other people,” Elaina had said, as if this were a good thing, as if this was what she wanted.

And Joe had agreed.

But now the bed was neatly spread and everything looked so untouched – like nothing had moved since that last night. Joe’s New Orleans Saints calendar still flipped to August and the image of the Superdome lit in pink and green and orange. The words “Ole Miss!” scrawled in pen under the 26^th. And her name beneath that, underlined twice. She wondered what Joe had hoped for that night. Wondered if he’d been disappointed by how things had turned out.

“Elaina,” Dave’s voice came from behind the door. And then, after a long pause, “Elaina. C’mon, let me in.”

The door wasn’t locked, but Dave – Joe’s best friend – had always been careful with her, so Elaina wasn’t surprised that he waited outside.

Elaina opened the door, turning away as she did, so as not to make eye contact.

Dave followed her to the bed, sat beside her, their shoulders barely touching.

“It was a nice funeral,” Dave said, finally.

Elaina turned to Dave. “I suppose. If funerals can be nice.”

Dave looked uncomfortable in his suit. He loosened his tie and hunched over. The shoulders of his suit stood up.

“You know what I meant,” Dave said, “I think Joe would’ve—”

“Been pleased with the turnout?” Elaina’s voice sounded more clipped than she’d meant.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “You being here with me means a lot.”

Dave smiled at her. “I’m always here,” he said, squeezing her hand. “You know that.”

She nodded. “I just can’t believe he’s dead,” she said shaking her head. And then, “I wanted an open casket.”

Dave turned to her in surprise.

“I needed to see him,” she said. “To know it was really Joe. He could still be out there. I know he’s not. But he could be.”

Dave nodded, but Elaina couldn’t tell if he understood or just nodded to appease her. Many people had nodded to appease her lately. Before Joe’s death, she’d understood Dave, but now he seemed different – detached – like he didn’t know how to act around her without Joe.

“I don’t think he should have been buried at all,” Dave said.

Elaina turned to him for the first time. “How do you mean?”

“Joe wasn’t the type to be cooped up,” Dave shrugged. “He wouldn’t have wanted to be in a box. Cremated would’ve been better.”

Elaina imagined flames engulfing him. Thought of the ash swept from the fireplace each year.

“He could be in so many places at once,” Dave continued. “I think Joe would’ve liked that.”

“He already was,” Elaina said. Dave nodded, and this time Elaina felt sure he really did understand.

Student Body President in high school. Hiking trip through Europe the summer before college. SAE pledge. First-string center linebacker on the Ole Miss football team. Declaring pre-med in the spring.

“He was almost too alive to live long,” Dave said, after a pause.

Joe might have lived big but only to make sure he lived enough. These words had come to Elaina on the flight back to Mississippi. The first time back home since school had started and both times crying over Joe.

Even now, sitting on the bed beside Dave, Elaina hadn’t gotten past that first line. She’d known Joe for five years and dated him for two. Why couldn’t she come up with anything else? He ran a marathon without any training. He wanted to be a heart surgeon. He collected bowties. He went for long bike rides. … And got hit by a drunk driver.

“We shouldn’t have broken up,” Elaina said, finally.

Dave looked at her carefully and walked to Joe’s dresser drawers. “I need to move,” he said, in way of explanation.

A picture of Joe and Elaina smiled up at him. Elaina remembered the picture – taken at a dinner shortly after graduation. Dave turned it face down and opened the top drawer. Elaina joined him, and they looked inside. It was filled with socks and underwear and a large pile of bowties.

“Figures,” said Dave.

Elaina was almost afraid to touch the bowties – as if they would turn to dust under her fingers. She recognized many of them: The dark blue bowtie he’d worn to their senior prom. A green one he wore for some Irish luck on test days. A bright red one with miniature Ole Miss Rebels on it, which Elaina had given him when he got his acceptance letter. She wondered why Joe hadn’t taken it with him to college – wondered if his parents had already cleaned out his dorm room.

Dave picked up a blue one with brown and purple stripes.

“Classic Joe,” he said.

“Very Joe,” she agreed.

She didn’t recognize this bowtie, and it bothered her to think that there was some aspect of his life – the months since going off to college – that she didn’t know, that she hadn’t been a part of. She excused herself to the bathroom.

Mascara was smudged under her eyes. She rubbed hard at her cheeks, trying to remove the makeup but only making it worse, giving her the appearance of war paint. She splashed first warm then cold water on her face. Enjoyed the sensation of the towel prickling her skin. In the other room, Dave was still rustling through the drawers. But looking back at her reflection, she could believe that Joe was the one behind the door.

She could see Joe shifting uncomfortably from his bed. Pacing back and forth, reaching for the bathroom door, turning back. Not wanting to push.

Elaina tussled her fingers through her hair to give it shape. Pinched her already-red cheeks as if to give them color. Pulled down her dress a little and smoothed it over her waist.

When she opened the bathroom door, Dave was standing in front of the mirror, holding the striped bowtie to his neck.

“That would look good on,” she said quietly.

Dave put the bowtie down. “No, I couldn’t.”

She grabbed the bowtie. “You should wear it,” she said, moving closer.

“Elaina, I –”

She looked from the bowtie to Dave and back to the bowtie.

“Can’t you be Joe for me?” she asked. “Just for tonight?”

Dave stared at her blankly.

In her mind, she tried to make his brown eyes blue.

“I don’t understand,” he said finally.

“You should wear the bowtie,” she said, again, pressing it in his hands.

He stared at it.

Elaina rummaged through the dresser drawers, grabbed khakis, a button down lavender shirt, a worn leather jacket.

“Put these on,” she said, handing him the pile of clothes.

“Uhm, now?” Dave frowned.

“Yes, Joe, now,” and Elaina sat on the bed.

“Okay.” Dave didn’t sound very sure.

“You’ll do it?”

Dave rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I guess I’ll do it,” he said. “If you really want me to.”

Elaina smiled and turned away to let him dress. She could hear the rustle as he changed into the khakis, zipped his pants.

“Don’t tuck in the shirt,” she told him, still turned away.

“I know.”

She felt the soft thud of his suit jacket as it fell on the bed. Heard him curse over the buttons.

“And grab a belt from the second drawer.”

“Brown one, got it,” he said. And then, “What about shoes?”

“Sperry’s, definitely.”

She heard him shuffling through the closet. Wondered if Joe had left his Sperry’s tied, if Dave would have to undo them.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Elaina turned.

Dressed in khakis and a button down lavender dress shirt, Joe looked much like he had their last night together, coming home from the concert.

“Where’s the bowtie?” she asked, walking toward him. “You always wear one.”

Joe fumbled with the bowtie. “Wasn’t sure how to tie it,” he said.

Elaina raised her eyebrows. “I’ll help you,” she said, coming close.

She could feel his warm breath on her neck as she looped the bowtie. She let her hand slide down his shirt, felt his heart beat quickly.

“That’s better,” she said, looking up. “You look like him.”

“Like Joe?” he asked.

And she smiled, remembering how after the concert, Joe had played for her, picking his way through a few songs on his guitar.

“I’m still figuring out a few of the chords,” he’d told her.

“Are you going to play something for me?” Elaina asked him now, wrapping her arms around his middle.

Joe stared at her. “Elaina, you know I don’t play. Joe was the one who – ”

Elaina held her finger to his lips. “I’ll get the guitar,” she said.

The guitar was propped against the bookshelf in the corner. Blue with off white edges, it felt light in her arms.

She handed it to Joe. “Sit over there,” she said, pointing to the bed.

He sat and tucked the guitar under his arm. He plucked a few chords and laughed. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to imagine the rest,” he said, looking up.

Elaina sat beside him. “No, that’s okay,” she said. “He wasn’t very good anyway.”

She moved in close. “You look good in his clothes,” she said.

“I feel awkward in his clothes,” he said.

“You don’t need them,” she said and slipped her hands over his shoulders, removing his jacket. “Any of them.”

They were facing each other now.

“Elaina,” he said carefully. “Joe is my best friend.”

She kissed him. “He was your best friend.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “I mean –”

Elaina sat in heated silence. Dave stared back at her. The moment had broken. She couldn’t even pretend he was Joe. Joe had never looked at her like that – with so much disgust and intrigue at the same time.

Dave stood up. “What are we doing?” he asked.

“Well, we were on the bed talking and then –”

“I wasn’t really asking,” he said, shaking his head. “It was more of an internal thing like, ‘Dave, what the hell are you doing?’”

He paced up and down.

“Joe, I – ”

“Dave, Elaina,” he said. “It’s Dave.”

“I know,” Elaina said, bowing her head. “It’s just, well, Joe and I never – and, I mean, we always wanted to. I regret that now. So, I guess I just thought that maybe you and me – Joe and me – I thought that maybe when you said you’d be Joe that we could –”

Dave stopped pacing and looked at her. She could hear his breathing as he considered.

When Dave stepped toward her it was as if two men stepped forward. She raised her arms. She wasn’t sure which of them slipped the dress over her head. Her skin flashed cool then hot.

And then she was on the bed and Joe was on top of her, kissing her the way she’d always wanted him to kiss her – never let him kiss her – working his way down her neck to the tops of her breasts. His hands felt warm – a bit bigger than she’d remembered – as they moved up her thighs, around her hips. He moved around her back, unclasped her bra.

“Not quite so fast,” she said, catching her breath. “Slower.”

Dave looked up at her, raised his eyebrows.

“He’d be slower,” Elaina said.

Joe made his way gently down her torso. The room spun and strange things went into focus. Joe’s bowtie. His calendar. Her name underlined twice.

“Wait, why did you stop?” Elaina pulled Joe closer, his full weight upon her.

“Because you asked me to,” and he sat up.

She flipped over, her hand resting on his chest. His dress shirt was still on, and she fumbled with the buttons.

“No, I said, ‘Wait,’” and she got up and tore down the calendar. “Now.” And she came back to bed.

They were not lying together as they were supposed to – as she and Joe would have done. They were sitting up, and Dave was struggling into his boxers.

She reached for his hand, but he moved to the side of the bed. Sat with his elbows on his knees.

Elaina felt around and couldn’t find her dress. She brought the sheets up to her neck.

“We should probably get back out there,” Dave said, buttoning his suit. “People will notice if we aren’t there.”

Elaina didn’t say anything. Couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I’ll go out first,” Dave said. “You should wait a few minutes. Maybe brush your hair.”

Elaina ran her hand through her tangled curls.

“I can’t find my dress,” she said. She felt comfortable stating facts. They were safe with facts. “Help me?”

He slid his hand under the covers and handed her the dress.

“Thanks.” She turned from him to slip it on.

He walked to the door.

“Wait,” she said.

He walked back. “What?”

“You’re still wearing his bowtie,” she laughed.

He turned pale. “Damn.”

She stood up, slipped the bowtie from his neck, held it close. “Thank you.”

He ducked his head. “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to the door. “Okay, so maybe give it five minutes,” he said.

She watched him through the door. He shut it firmly behind. The noise of guests outside came and went in a large blast. Elaina got up, fixed the calendar, flipped it back to August and the colorfully lit Superdome. Picked up the guitar from the foot of the bed and propped it against Joe’s bookshelf. Stood the picture frame upright. She climbed back into bed to look over the room. Everything appeared as before, except for the rumpled sheets and her inside them. Yet the room seemed somehow touched.

She realized, absently, that she was still holding the striped bowtie. She twirled it in her hands. Five more minutes. He might have lived big but only to make sure he lived enough. He liked to drive fast. Especially around corners. He always opened the door for her. He brought his own beer to parties. He couldn’t play the guitar – not really. He always said, “I love you.”

Elaina got out of the bed. Spread the sheets smooth. Walked to the dresser drawers and fixed her hair in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked better than before. She slid open the top drawer and added the striped bowtie to the collection. She walked to the door and slid out to join the others.