by Jason Zandri
“Yeah, well, I can’t say I know a whole lot about that,” Tim said. “I will tell you what I do know, though. It won’t matter a whole lot to me either way.
I’ll likely never have an excess of money; not like you and your family.” He took his arm from Matthew’s shoulder and stepped alongside Michael. “I won’t be smart and all … feely, like Matthew.” He chuckled while Matthew also moved up and alongside Michael. “But I know how to work hard and do what has to get done. That’s got a price and value to it all on its own. I figure it’ll serve me well.”
Matthew stepped ahead and turned to look at the two of them. “When did we become a group of profound assholes?”
The boys burst out laughing.
“In all seriousness,” Matthew said, wiping a tear from his eye and stifling his laugh. “My Dad says so much of life is an unknown that, try as you might, you can’t plan for it all. He said to me, do the right things, treat others like you want to be treated, be fair and honest, work hard, and remember to laugh.”
Tim stepped away a little so that the three of them stood in a circle. “We got this.”
“We do,” Michael said.
“And like other graduates from Sheehan, Lyman Hall, and Xavier, we’ll stumble and fall too,” Matthew said. He squinted his eyes a bit, and a stray thought crossed his mind. “You have to let things happen and be there for the ones you care about. When they slip, you try to catch them to break their fall.”
“Where’d you hear that?” Michael asked.
“My Dad,” he said.
“You can’t always be there for everyone; what happens then when they fall when you’re not around?” Tim asked.
“You help them back up,” Matthew said.
The three of them stood in silence for a moment. An old truck rattled its way up Whirlwind Hill Road and broke the silence.
“Let’s make a pact.” Matthew stuck his right hand out, palm up, between them. “To be there for one another—when times are good, to celebrate, and when times are bad, to lessen the burden. No matter where our lives take us.”
Tim dropped his hand on top of Matthew’s without hesitation. “I’m in.”
“Done,” Michael said, doing the same.
After a moment, Matthew dropped his hand out from the bottom, and the boys drew theirs back.
“Let’s go get the girls and have fun tonight,” Matthew said with a smile.
CHAPTER FIVE
Melissa stepped out into the early October air from the apartment she shared with her mother. She turned immediately to the next-door apartment and knocked lightly at first, but on the final hit to the door, tapped a little harder.
Diane opened up and squinted just a bit when the morning sun hit her face. She had already dressed for the day.
“Hi, Missy. Mom send you over?” she said, looking at her younger sister still in her pullover from the night before.
“Yeah,” Melissa said and stretched her arms over her head. “She was going to put coffee on and make some waffles, and she wanted me to ask you over.”
“Sure.” Diane stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind her. “I can’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday morning.”
The two headed inside. The smell of coffee and cooking waffle batter filled the air as the pair moved into the kitchen.
“Hi, Mom,” Diane said. “Thanks for inviting me over. Can I help with anything?”
“No, I think I’m all set,” Karen Canton said with a smile and glanced at her oldest daughter.
Melissa went around to the far seat and sat. She turned to a small shelf and thumbed through the mail from Saturday’s delivery. “Canton, Canton, Bancroft … ah, here it is, Wakeford; this one got delivered here by mistake.”
Diane reached over to take the mail from Melissa. After a look at the return address, she folded it in half and slipped it into her skirt pocket.
“Not going to open it?” Melissa asked.
“It’s just a bill,” Diane said with a chuckle. “I’ll check it later when I sit down to make out my payments tonight. I wonder why they brought that here.”
“New mailman … well, lady … person … she might have gotten confused. We do have dissimilar last names,” Melissa said.
“Are you going over to see Mark later? You usually do on Sundays,” her mother said.
“Probably.” Diane sounded resigned. “It’s what I do.”
Melissa looked over at her mother, who came over with the platter of waffles and set them down on the table. Melissa got up quickly and grabbed the plates off the counter.
“Okay,” Karen said softly. “Breakfast was a partial pretense to get you over here.” She looked at Melissa, and then back to Diane. “Both of us have noticed that you’re not annoyingly chipper like you usually are.”
“Oh,” Diane said, changing her tone. “I’ve been a little tired. I didn’t realize it was noticeable.”
Karen turned and brought over a hotplate and the coffee decanter. Melissa forked a waffle from the platter. “It’s more than that,” Karen said. “And you know I know better.” She offered a soft smile.
Diane looked over at Melissa, who sported a mouthful of breakfast. She then looked down at the table. Karen poured her daughter a cup of coffee and slid it over to her. “You’re welcome to a waffle, but I expect that you’re not hungry.” Karen eased into the free seat at the table.
The three sat in silence for a few moments while Diane added things to her coffee from the table. She looked over at Melissa when she spoke. “If I discuss this with you, both of you, it has to stay between us. No meddling or talking to anyone else about it.”
“Of course, dear,” her mother said.
“Sure,” Melissa said with a mouthful of food. “Who would I talk to that would be interested in whatever you have going on?” While she answered, she paid only partial attention.
“You’re close to Matthew,” Diane said, which made Melissa pay closer attention. “And I don’t want this getting back to Mark.” She looked at the two of them in succession and then looked down again at the table. Then she put her hands on the table, one on top of the other.
Neither said anything. Karen reached over and touched Diane’s hands.
Melissa continued to eat, but more slowly, and looked at her older sister.
“What’s going on with Mark?” Karen said in a quiet voice. “Melissa—”
She nodded to the younger girl. “—will keep this among us girls; she won’t discuss it with Matthew.”
Diane took in a deep breath, and tears dropped from her face to the table.
“I don’t know. He’s been acting funny. He’s been strange and out of character ... distant.” Diane looked up, and the tears came down her cheeks.
“He’s been having Matthew work more hours at the store, which is fine—he wanted them. He’s kept my hours the same, which is fine, and I expect that.
But with Matthew in the store more, Mark has been in there less. If Matthew is there, that is the second person we’ve always liked to have around. Rather than staying or just going home to mow the lawn, or take care of something
at the house and then come back at the end of the day, he’s had Matthew or myself lock up. A few times, I’ve gone over the house afterward, and he’s not there until later.”
“Well, I’m not sure what you’re upset about,” Karen said, trying to sound reassuring. “There could be any number of reasons he’s not around.”
“I know.” Diane sobbed a little, then wiped her hand across her wet cheeks. “But when I ask him, ‘how was your day,’ or ‘did you have extra errands to run, is there something I could help you with,’ he clams up and changes the subject.”
Melissa set her fork down and looked at her older sister without saying a word.
“I don’t know what’s worse, Mother,” Diane said, now crying audibly.
“Growing apart and thinking he doesn’t love me anymore like he used to, or thinking he might be moving on to
someone else.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” Melissa said. “It’s totally out of character.”
“The way he’s acting is already out of character,” Diane said, more upset.
“I’m not young and pretty anymore.” She sat back, drew her arms in and up, and brought her hands to her shoulders. “I see the young girls come in and how they look at him.”
“My God, Diane,” Melissa said, then stood and walked away from the table toward the stove. “I make jokes about you becoming an old maid with an apartment full of cats, but you’re twenty years away from that.” She smiled at her sister, trying to make her laugh at the comment. When it didn’t work, she changed her tone. “Look, you’re not even thirty-one yet and you’re talking about some young girls … what young girls? Twenty-five-year-olds that come into the store? What are they going to offer a forty-two-year-old man?”
“They’re far more attractive,” Diane said, sounding defeated. “I’m sure they’re more dynamic and sophisticated than I am. I’m sure there are …
things … they offer that I don’t.”
“Not from what I’ve heard,” Melissa said without thinking. She reached into the refrigerator for a glass of milk. When she turned around to go back to her seat, she noticed the two of them staring at her.
“What are you talking about?” Karen asked.
“What are you talking about?” Melissa said, looking over at Diane.
“You know …” she said, and then finished in a whisper, “Things ...”
“Oh,” Melissa whispered back. Then she finished in a boisterous tone,
“You mean sex.” “Well, as I was saying.” Melissa smiled and tried to temper her grin. “What I’ve heard, through the thin wall that separates my bedroom here and yours in your apartment, I highly doubt that.”
Diane blushed, and Karen pulled her hand up to her mouth to stifle her smile.
“Sorry, Diane.” Melissa laughed then shrugged. “But you’re loud.”
Diane’s demeanor changed to share laughter in the room. She wiped a tear away from her face.
The room grew quiet again, and Karen leaned in. “Look, Diane.” She took her daughter’s hands again. “I am likely the worst person to give out relationship advice, considering my track record, but I know people enough to know that you cannot make them fall in love with you or stay in love with you. Either they are, or they aren’t. The man that I see as Mark Sanford does love you. I don’t know what’s going on with him, and if you’ve tried to ask him, and you believe he’s not telling you everything, then you might need to be more insistent.” Karen glanced over at Melissa, and then back to Diane.
“As far as your being too old, that’s a lot of hogwash; there’s not much separating you from the twenty-five-year-olds you seem so worried about.
And maybe they are dynamic and sophisticated, but that’s not what Mark was looking for—not when you got together, and I doubt now. He was looking for the things you offer. That’s what attracted him to you.”
“I’m so worried, Mom,” Diane said, sniffing. “It’s not even the work or the apartment. I can get another job and find another place to live if I needed to. There’s only one Mark, and I want him in my life.”
“There’s only one Diane,” Karen said. “He knows that, too.”
Diane appeared to feel better and looked down at the table again.
Karen caught Melissa’s gaze and made a quick zipping motion with her hand across her lips.
Melissa nodded once to her mother, and then switched her focus back to Diane.
CHAPTER SIX
Matthew came into the kitchen and stopped short when he realized Diane was seated there and talking.
“Come on in, sport,” his father called out with a light wave while Diane looked over.
Matthew looked down at his watch, and then checked the time against the clock on the microwave. “Um … I wondered, did you need to go anywhere tonight?”
Mark looked over at his son, trying to figure out where he was going with the question. “Well,” he said. “It’s Friday; we thought about a movie but hadn’t decided on going out or HBO.”
“Okay,” Matthew said, somewhat nervously. “This will take me all night if I try to slide into it. Dad, can I borrow your car?”
Mark took advantage of Matthew’s vulnerability to ham it up regarding the request. “Oh my! What could have occurred in the universe to make my son want to trade in the Sanfordmobile for the family car? Even if it’s for just one evening?”
Diane raised her hand to hide her smile.
“Mr. Epps,” Matthew said. “I’m going to pick up Donna Epps to go to the movie, and he doesn’t care for me and the van.”
“Well, that’s a little odd,” Mark said in a more serious tone. “I guess I get the overall reason why, but he didn’t seem to have an issue over the summer.”
“The summer was the beach and a gang of us; tonight, it’s just a date with Donna.”
“Did he tell you she couldn’t go with you if you came with the van?”
Mark asked.
“No, he didn’t imply it—not directly anyway, but it’ll make him more comfortable. Honestly, it’ll make Donna more comfortable too, I think. We’ll be alone and not on a double date or anything.”
Mark smiled. “Good man.” He fished around his pocket for the keys.
“Thanks, Dad.” Matthew took his father’s keys and set his down on the table. “You know, in case you need to go out.”
Mark looked at the keys and grinned.
“No joyriding in it, and fuel it back up,” Matthew said in an authoritative voice, before turning to leave out the back door behind Diane.
Once the door had closed, and Matthew had gone from sight, the two
laughed.
“Oh man,” Mark said, pointing to the back door. “Do I sound like that?”
“Only sometimes.” Diane got up and moved over to him. She settled down into his lap. “Well, we can’t go out for a joy ride; ‘Dad’ said so. He didn’t say anything about having an indoor joy ride.”
Mark smiled. She lowered her head and kissed him with passion. He returned her kisses just as enthusiastically.
Slowly, she reached up to unbutton her shirt. Mark pulled back and stopped her. With a gentle touch, he guided her hands away. He kissed her softly and motioned for her to get up.
Diane did and moved to the hallway; making the assumption they would go to the bedroom to get comfortable.
Mark moved to the refrigerator to get something to drink. “So,” he said while pulling out a diet soda. “It looks to me like we have the whole night to ourselves.”
“Yes.” Diane folded her hands in front of her abdomen and stood still.
Mark looked over at her and sighed. “You look upset and distracted.”
“I’m confused.”
Mark moved toward the kitchen sink, and then turned back around to face her. “About?”
Diane stayed quiet and looked down.
“I stopped reading minds some time ago,” Mark said, trying to break the tension in the room.
“Is there …” She stopped to clear her throat and strengthen her voice. “Is there someone else?”
Mark took a deep breath. “Why would you think that?” He set the soda on the counter. “We’ve been together almost seven years now; what brought that question on all of a sudden like that?”
Diane looked up, her hands still folded. Tears streamed down her face.
“Your behavior is different. You’re not as attentive as you used to be when we’re together and not at work. You seem preoccupied, and you’re not sharing your thoughts. You’ve left the store a number of times recently; it’s becoming a new pattern for you, where you don’t come straight here or back to the store at the end of the day.”
“Well, to be honest, I’ve been trying to extend Matthew’s responsibilities there. We had a talk about life after high school, and he’s indicated he’d rather work than continue
with his education, at least for now. I’m not totally
excited about that; I think he’ll need a degree down the road.”
“You didn’t,” Diane said.
“I’m an exception to the rule. The world is changing. And maybe I want more for him than running a store and just sort of getting by.” Some of the strength dissolved from him.
Diane bolstered her resolve as best she could, and it came out in her tone when she said, “He knows what he wants to do right now. He’s talked to you some about it.” She leaned forward a little and whispered. “The store echoes when it’s empty, and the two of you, your voices are deep and strong.”
Mark smiled at her playfulness.
Diane let go of her hands to brush the remaining tears from her face, and then folded them back in front of her again. “You make it sound like the life you’ve built isn’t something to aspire to. I, and apparently Matthew, disagree.
The bills are paid, and we have food on the table. The stress of work is low; the business and the indoor kiosks are thriving. The garage has more work than it can handle. I handle the books, you know … you’ve put a lot aside and invested it well.” She stepped forward and let her hands go. “In my opinion, success in life isn’t measured by fancy cars, vacations, or the size of one’s house. It’s the measure of the amount of love that’s in it. You have a life full of love; in the things that you do and how you do them. The love of a son that idolizes you. My love …” Her voice broke, she dropped her head, and she began to cry again.
Mark stepped forward and put his finger under her chin to raise her head.
“Come with me,” he said and took her hand. Then he led her through the dining room to the stairs. “I was waiting for ‘the right time,’ but I suppose I didn’t know what that was. Now might work.”
He led her upstairs and turned away from Matthew’s room.
“This is Teresa’s old room,” Mark said, fishing a key out of his wallet.
“The sister who rarely comes to visit,” Diane said.