lines:the particular sadness of lemon cake

okay, i have legitimately had the book sitting in my room for a month now with like a jungle of sticky notes hanging out of the thing because i have too many lines that i just love. 

so i must clarify. there are certain lines that i love because they are funny, others because they share the human news. i'll try and give a brief explanation why i like the line when i put it in so y'all can distinguish. y'all.

lines:

• he used big words too early, saying things like, i must masticate now, as he took a big bite of cereal, and adults laughed at him, loving his big gray eyes and so serious look, and then they tried to hug him, which he refused. (this line was hilarious--i literally cracked up on the bus while reading this and people proceeded to stare at me like i was a strange being from another planet. just trying to picture this little eight-year old saying "i must masticate now" is just funny.)
• and me? i asked, grasping, for the last time.
  you? baby, you're--
  i stood still. waiting.
  you're--
  she smiled at me, as she folded the blue-and-white-checked dish towel. you're seaglass, she said. the pretty green kind. everybody loves you, and wants to take you home.
  ...it was a compliment, i kept thinking to myself, as i stacked the parts; it's supposed to make you feel good. (this was just too sad. to a young child trying to find love from their parents, this just would kill any feeling of it.)
• after i'd bussed the rest of the table, i wrapped up the remaining roast beef in plastic and put it in the refrigerator for some adultery sandwiches the next day. (the first time i read this i had to go over it a couple times to completely understand what she meant. to put it in context--rose's mom had just started having an affair with someone at her workplace. she was happy, and rose tasted it in the beef and correctly identified her mother's infidelity. thus, adultery sandwiches. made of adulterous beef.)
• were you quiet? i said.
  i tried to be, she said. she used to call me garbage truck when i asked for too many things. (this needs no explaining. i cry.)
• sorry, she said, laughing. my little sister is having a tickle fight with my dad. (um, cue "aww" and all sorts of other noises of acknowledging cuteness. those moments were very sparse within this book, actually.)
• when the nurse wouldn't tell him, he called back repeatedly, every minute, until she yelled it into the phone: South Side! Eighth Floor! Third Window From Left! Now Stop Fucking Calling! (i... there are no words. also the capitalization in the speech was preserved from the book because it is just too hilarious. when the first letter is capitalized, there is just a certain way in which you say it. imagining a nurse screaming that into a phone just cracks me up.)
• yes? i said.
  his hand hovered in the air.
  for you, he said, i brought binoculars. (a conversation between rose and her father concerning rose's birth. rose's dad doesn't go into hospitals for his own reasons. he didn't bring binoculars to see roses's brother, joseph, being born. but for her, he did. awww.)
• if you tell about this, she said once, her eyes wide, brushing down the long plastic hair of a barbie, i will bury you, she said. (i laugh. understandably.)
• outside, the day was ending, sky a middle blue. (great imagery here, that is all.)
• light is good company, when alone; i took my comfort where i found it,and the warmest yellow bulb in the living-room lamp had become a kind of radiant babysitter all its own. (an interesting take on light in a dark house.)
• it took me a minute to hear him. a blankness, while we stared at each other. the words disintegrating around us. pin. nk. peg-a. sus. pen. then he made some kind of sneezing snort sound and we both started to laugh. (d'awwwww bonding time! heart.)
• it was my job, as annoying younger sibling, to beat that joke to death. each time, i spluttered the sentence out and held my body still, waiting for that tickle in my throat, the uncontrollable overtake. joseph didn't laugh once. (i've been here one too many times.)
• i'd missed the past-perfect conjugation of "to go." everyone in my quiz was going in the present. (i laughed at this. people stared at me again. i guess i'm an alien being who reads human books.)
• excuse me? rose? he said what?
  nada, i said, when the teacher glared at us both.
  going, going, going, i said. (this is only funny when you view it in the context of the previous line. at this point, i'm getting tons of strange looks.)
• we returned to the room buzzing, and after class, the teacher called me over and handed me a printout of the food pyramid, telling me i did a good job but it was important that i eat protein as a growing girl. (context was that rose did a project on food and everyone basically got to mob the vending machine. it was quite funny how the teacher handled it.)
• when joseph was born, my mother's closest friend, sharlene... showed up at the maternity ward right on time wearing a lime-green t-shirt that said team baby. (i laughed only because i thought of all the stupid twilight junk flying around with team edward and team jacob. screw them all, go team baby.)
• as soon as joseph popped his head out, screaming, alive, bluish, squirmy, sharlene kissed my mother on the forehead, said congratulations, great job, oh happy day, and then hightailed out across town to stuff mushrooms. (i'm thinking at this point that sharlenes might not actually occur in real life, but actually i'm sure they do. whoops.)
• she stepped off the bed and trundled to the window, where she held up the blanket and watched in silence as a small dad jumped up and down. he lit a cigar. he danced a jig. it was like the silent-movie version of her life. (how deep.)
• he was like a wee old prophet in the shape of a baby, she said. (...i have no explanation. sorry.)
• my eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. that i can go to anytime i want. (well then.)
• when i gave it to him, he closed the book and took the letter directly to his room, which then he did not leave for two days. dad said to leave him be, that we should give him space. the trays of food my mother left outside the side door were eaten by birds and bugs. (an exaggerated scenario of what happens when you get rejected from college.)
• will i see you? i said.
  of course, he said. i'll come by all the time.
  his cheek was warm on my forehead, but even as he spoke, it was like the opposite was forming underneath his words, like letters shaped backwards in the reflection of a pool. (the saddest and yet most poignant goodbye scene that i have ever read. i cry.)
• when the light at vermont turned green, we stepped into the street and george grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our younger selves crossed with us. (before when george and rose were younger they would cross the road holding hands. this was a beautiful way to flashback without flashbacking.)
• and because circumstances rarely match, and one afternoon can be a patchwork of both joy and horror, the taste of the soup washed through me. warm, kind, focused, whole. (this is the human news part for you guys. most of the time my days are huge oscillations and swings between the good and the bad.)
• where are you? she whispered out the window, into the night. (beautiful line.)
• she ran her fingertips over the ballpoint-indented numbers, as if they could swirl into a code and tell her where to look. (beautiful! this was so greatly worded i just fell in love with it. infinite smiles.)
• sure enough, at the base: l.m.e. carved into a corner. it was the closest i ever got to seeing my grandmother give my mother a hug. (i love the family moments that aimee writes in. they're sweet without being too overly sweet. just realistic.)
• i sent back the little rectangular return card with an attempt at a happy face next to my name: attending. steak. (this is a really bittersweet line. it's realistic because rose really loves george but he's getting married off, and it's the typical invite-your-best-friend-who-could've-been-your-spouse-to-your-wedding-scene and the one-to-be-wed is always oblivious and oh the drama. but also aimee's execution of this was flawless. additionally, the funny part was just how the return sounded. the first time i read it, i thought that rose wrote down "steak" as her name. i laughed, realized that she didn't, and then stopped laughing.)
• the moon slipped down into the frame of the window and reached an arm of pure light through the glass. (beautiful beautiful beautiful.)
• neither of us mentioned that we had reached the dessert section of the cookbook, after which was only the index. (the context is that rose is cooking for her mother from a cookbook. rose goes through the book's recipes rather systematically [read; in order of appearance] and so when she hits desserts... you get the idea. hopefully.)
• ...they stood side by side as i drove away, their smiles sewn up with an edge of fishing line. (i can picture this so vividly. maybe because i'm going to college.)
• it was easy to unload the car, at the cafe. inside the closet, i put my purse, a white chef's jacket, and a box full of extra kitchen tools and books that i'd bought on my own. grandma's teak box of ashes. my mother's oaks jewelery box. her apron, with twinned cherries, that she gave me as a prize after i made her a pot roast. a velvet and wicker stool that i did not want to see re-upholstered. a rolled-up poster of a waterfall. a plastic graduation tassel. in the corner, a folding chair. (okay, the importance of the stool--it represents that best period of rose's parents' relationship. the folding chair represents her relationship with her brother, and how she understands him. like rose's power to taste emotions in food, joseph has the power to turn into... furniture.)
• was it so different than the choice of a card-table chair, except my choice meant i could stay in the world and his didn't? (this is the last line of the book. i recommend that you all read the book to figure out why i loved it.)

and thus wraps up this enormous post. thanks for staying with me, and i hope that you read this book! it was fabulous, and thank you to professor cross for recommending it!