They headed west out of the airport, zipping through the landscape of his childhood: the swamplands and toll booths, the overcrowded cemetery—the dead people of New Jersey had no room to breathe—and the faded gray water tower that meant you were almost there. Vito hadn’t been back in over ten years, not since his parents left, and it seemed different somehow, cleaner and more up-to-date.
“I’m sorry your friend couldn’t make it,” Kyle said.
“Me too. Bad timing.”
Paige had been all set to be his plus one, but a week ago she’d started working full-time as a receptionist/billing assistant for a dentist named Fred Putin （no relation to the dictator, or so he always said） who attended the same Saturday meeting they did. The job meant a lot to her—she hated being reliant on her ex for every little thing in her life—and she felt strongly that it was a bad idea to ask for three days off so soon after being hired. Vito was a little frustrated with her for not even trying, because it was a special occasion and, who knew, maybe Dr. Putin would have taken pity on her. He took out his phone and shot her a quick text.
Made it. Back in the Garden State.
On hold with Delta Dental, she replied a few seconds later.
She signed off with a kiss emoji, and he sent back two in return. Delta Dental must have picked up, because that was where it ended.
* * *
He regretted her absence even more once they arrived in Green Meadow. He wanted to show her around, give her the guided tour of his childhood haunts.
See that little house? We lived there until I was eight.
That’s my elementary school. It’s a senior center now.
That cul-de-sac used to be woods. I got my first blowjob in there. Ginny Huff. She was pretty cute.
There were so many sex landmarks. He could point at Debbie Repko’s house—That’s where I lost my virginity. Not in the house, though. There was a toolshed in the yard, it’s probably gone now—or take Paige to Alder Place, where the curly-haired Diamantis sisters used to live （they looked like twins, but were actually a year apart）。 Vito had broken up with Anastasia and immediately started up with Denise, which had caused some tension between the sisters that culminated in a fistfight on the front lawn （Anastasia won with a gut punch, but not before Denise got in a couple of good shots）。
As luck would have it, the only notable house they drove past belonged to Marley Pease, a girl Vito had been with only once, at the beginning of senior year. She was totally in love with him, used to slip these handwritten notes through the vents of his locker. You look so good in your green shirt… I dreamed about you last night… There are so many things I want to tell you…
Marley wasn’t as hot as most of the girls Vito had hooked up with, but they got drunk at a party one night and he didn’t have any better options, so he decided to go for it. They snuck into her house and tiptoed, wasted and giggling, right past her parents’ bedroom. She kept shushing him as they got undressed, but the shushes were way too loud, and Vito kept thinking they’d get caught, which made it even more exciting. He didn’t bring a condom—he never did—so she used this weird spermicidal foam right before they fucked. She squatted in front of him, smiling sadly as she squirted it in—it was the only thing he remembered about having sex with her—but the foam didn’t work, and she had to go to Planned Parenthood, and there weren’t any sweet little notes in his locker after that.
* * *
Vito laughed out loud when he saw Kyle’s house. It might have made a certain amount of sense in Beverly Hills or Coral Gables, but it looked completely bonkers on MaryBeth Way. He wasn’t sure if it was modernist or postmodern or some other style he didn’t know the word for, but whatever it was, it stood out like a big middle finger to the Green Meadow of his childhood, a working-class town full of affordable cookie-cutter homes. A few of those houses had been a little bigger than others; some had two-car garages or finished basements or chemically lush lawns, but everything was built on the same basic scale. There was nothing grand or swanky in the entire town, nothing that would piss off the neighbors or make them feel like losers.
“Wow,” Vito said as they pulled into the driveway. “You made a statement.”
Kyle looked proud and embarrassed at the same time.
“It’s my wife’s dream house. She was mad at me, and I gave her a blank check, and this is what happened.”
“Well, I hope it cheered her up.”
“A little,” Kyle said. “Not as much as you’d think.”
* * *
Vito was under the impression that he’d be staying in a guest room, but it turned out to be a guest house, a garage-sized building tucked away in a far corner of the yard. It came equipped with a queen bed, a kitchenette, and a bathroom that was a lot nicer than the one he had at home.
“There’s food in the fridge,” Kyle told him. “Just shoot me a text if you need anything. Otherwise we’re good until the Welcome Dinner.”
“The Welcome Dinner?”
“It’s on your schedule.” Kyle smiled a little stiffly. “You got the schedule, right?”
“Absolutely.” Vito had definitely received the schedule. And he’d totally meant to look at it. “I just forgot about the dinner.”
“It’s not a big deal. Just you, Diane Blankenship, and the Selection Committee.” He gave Vito a meaningful look. “Maybe a surprise guest or two. It’ll be painless, I promise.”
Vito nodded. That was all fine. But something else was bugging him.
“Can I ask you something? Who the fuck is Diane Blankenship?”
“She’s the other inductee.”
“I know. But who is she? What did she—”
“Front Desk Diane,” Kyle said, as if that was supposed to mean something. “She’s been working in the main office for almost thirty years. She was around back in our day. You don’t remember?”
“Not really. I didn’t pay much attention to…”
“Nice lady.” Kyle lowered his voice. “I think the Committee just wanted some gender diversity. But you’re definitely the star of the show. No question about that.”
Vito shrugged. If they wanted to put the school secretary in the Hall of Fame, that was their business, though he wasn’t sure why they’d picked her instead of the bus driver, or the lady who doled out the french fries.
* * *
He tried to nap, but it didn’t work. He kept thinking about Marley Pease—the way she used to look at him in the hallway, that death stare of pure wounded hatred. He never said a word to her after the abortion, never checked to see how she was doing, never even acknowledged what she’d gone through. It was weird to think about the kid they didn’t have, a kid who’d be a full-grown adult by now, as real to him as Jasmine or Henry.
Marley wasn’t the only girl he knocked up senior year. The other one was Abbie DiScalzo, and that had been a much bigger mess. Abbie was a steady girlfriend, not a one-night stand; her family was a lot stricter and more Catholic than Vito’s. There were angry phone calls, parental meetings, lots of crying and yelling and name-calling （Mr. DiScalzo kept referring to Vito as Casanova-over-Here）。 Abbie’s asshole brother, Ray—he was a rookie cop at the time, a former linebacker for the Larks—started making threats, telling people he wanted to kick Vito’s ass, or maybe break his legs, and Coach Holleran had to get involved to broker a truce between them.