The Shoebox

by Lisa Fernandez

  “How did it go?”

  “It was tough. I’m beat.”

  “Did you have dinner yet?”

  “No, Mom. I didn’t.” Peter laughed again. “What is it with you tonight?”

  “It’s not me—” Peter heard Jake speak into the background, there was a moment of silence, and then Amanda’s voice came on the phone.

  “Hey, Uncle Peter. I was the one who wanted to know if you had eaten yet.”

  Peter smiled. “Hey, Amanda. As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”

  “Get cleaned up and be right over then. You know me. I don’t like to eat late.”

  Peter laughed to himself and shook his head as Amanda made kissing noises and hung up the phone.

  The autumn air felt crisp for October, and Peter shook off a chill as he went up the front steps with a cake box under his arm. Pumpkins lined the stairway, and plastic bats hung over the porch. He bent to pick up a naked Barbie on the top stair. He could hear the voices of Hope and Janie as he rang the doorbell, their laughter resonating through the house.

  The door flung open.

  “Were you scared, Uncle Peter?” Hope yelled. “Did the bats scare you?”

  “Come here, you little monster.”

  Hope and Janie jumped on him screaming, and he dropped the pound cake and fell to his knees barely inside the door, the girls climbing his back.

  “Girls, you’re going to hurt Uncle Peter. Girls!” Amanda tried to pry them off, but one quick maneuver and Peter was the tickler.

  “I don’t know who’s worse, you or the children. Get up from the floor, Peter. You’re incorrigible!” Amanda laughed as she helped Peter to his feet, and the girls scattered into the house.

  “Hi, handsome.” She kissed his cheek.

  “Hi, sweetie.” Peter loved the warmth in Amanda’s eyes. “Isn’t it a bit cold to be outside naked?” He lifted the naked Barbie, and she laughed.

  “Where did you find her? We were looking for her all afternoon.”

  “She must have had some night.”

  “At least someone’s having fun. Is that my pound cake on the floor?”

  “It wasn’t my fault.” Peter picked it up. “I swear, they came at me from all sides!”

  “Get in here, you.” Amanda pulled on his sweater.

  Peter glanced around as he stepped through the hall, where an arch opened into the warm living room. He inhaled the smell of roasted chicken that lingered in the air along with the faint tang of firewood burning. Jake knelt at the living room hearth adding logs. The crackling of the wood and flickering of the fire gave the living room a golden glow, and behind Jake the girls spoke loudly in their squeaky little voices, their toys scattered.

  “Now that’s a fire!” Jake shouted as he sat back on his heels and flames roared up the chimney.

  “Oh, babe, not again.” Amanda clicked her tongue as she shook out a blanket onto the floor by the couch. “I’m sorry, Peter. Ever since he saw Eddie Murphy on HBO he keeps doing that part of his act about fire. Just don’t ask. Can I get you something? A beer, wine?”

  “Wine would be great.”

  Jake stood and hugged Peter. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

  “Why didn’t Tara come?” Amanda reached around Jake to hand Peter a full wine glass.

  Peter sighed. “She went to your mother’s. She’s helping with the bills and sorting your father’s paperwork.”

  “This is all such a nightmare. Mother has never dealt with the bills. Lucky for us Tara’s good with money.”

  Peter reached over and hugged her. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”

  “Thank you, sweetie.” Amanda wiped a tear away. “I just left there a few hours ago. I don’t know how she’s going to manage without my dad.”

  Jake rubbed Amanda’s shoulders while Peter sat on the couch, where the girls threw themselves on the blanket at his feet.

  “So now you can relax awhile, Pete?” Jake kissed the top of Amanda’s head and let himself drop into his worn, overstuffed armchair.

  Janie crawled across Hope, who lay sprawled across the blanket with her legs spread, and they wrestled, giggling and banging into Peter’s knees.

  “What do you mean?” Peter paused with his glass to his mouth.

  “The meeting with the press is finally over—you can focus on other things.”

  “Man, that was rough.” Peter sipped his wine and set down his glass. “I can’t believe the things they asked.”

  “That problem you had with the plans over the zoning?” Jake smiled at Amanda as she handed him a glass of wine.

  Peter shook his head. “The wedding.”

  “Really?” Amanda said, perched on the broad arm of Jake’s chair. “I’m surprised they would even care. Tara will love that for sure.”

  “They cared all right. Amanda, did you know Tara’s dress cost eight thousand dollars?”

  “Eight thousand dollars!” Jake shouted and lurched almost out of his chair. “You know what you could do with eight thousand? Honey, did you know about that?”

  “What can I say?” Amanda took a long sip, raising her eyebrows demurely. “Of course I knew.” She moved to the couch. “I don’t approve, but you know my sister. When Tara wants something she usually gets it. Me, personally, I’m not that style. I mean, look at us.” Amanda leaned across to take Jake’s hand, smiling. “We didn’t have a fancy wedding. We ran away to Vegas and then had a lovely party at my parent’s house when we got back. We sank all our money into this place instead.”

  “This is a great house.” Peter glanced around. “I told you that the day you guys asked me to look it over and it’s come a long way since then.” He looked nostalgically at the fine Arts and Crafts woodwork, the sturdy posts and built-in bookcases around the fireplace and the small, simple stained-glass windows up high. Barely visible through the hall archway, he could see the polished foot of the broad staircase with its classical, squared banisters. “I would have bought it in a heartbeat.”

  “What you’re seeing is all those weekends of you and me covered in sawdust and wood glue.” Jake laughed. “If you hadn’t moved in with us, Amanda and I would still be eating off the plywood subfloor.”

  Amanda leaned forward to ruffle Jake’s hair. “I’d much rather put our money into a good home than spend it on a dress I’m only going to wear for a few hours. But that’s not Tara, and I can’t force her to be like me. She’s a bit over-the-top, but I love her.”

  “She’s lucky to have you, Amanda. We’re both lucky.” Peter laid his arm along the back of the couch and kissed Amanda’s cheek.

  “Don’t touch my wife.” Jake doubled his fists at Peter.

  “Try and stop me, big boy.”

  Jake reached over and slapped Peter’s arm, and they laughed together. The fire flared up, and Jake knelt to prod the logs with the poker. Hope stood at Amanda’s knees, twisting her fingers together, and whispered something in Amanda’s ear.

  “Honey, not now. You’ve put it on five times since we got it yesterday. By Halloween it’s going to be all worn out.” Amanda touched her face.

  “Please, Mommy! Can I? Please?” Hope jiggled and stood on her tip- toes.

  “After dinner, I promise. I’ll even help you put it on, okay?”

  “What does she want?” Jake asked.

  “She wants to show Uncle Peter her Halloween costume.”

  “I would love to see her costume.” Peter crawled onto the floor with the girls. “But you have to promise me something.”

  “What!” The girls turned to him in unison.

  He held up the naked Barbie and spoke in a deep, scary voice. “That you will never again let Barbie go out at night without any clothes!” The girls screamed and jumped on him, and Jake and Amanda reached to pull them back off.

  “Time to eat�
�what do you say?” Jake lifted Janie under one arm with her arms and legs dangling.

  “Eat!” Janie squealed.

  Amanda was feeding Janie a small piece of chicken across the corner of the table.

  “And then she goes, ‘Doesn’t that get boring?’ and I go, ‘I guess you have to be a mother to understand. How can being with my kids get boring?’ So she looks down at me over the top of her glasses and goes, ‘Well, I couldn’t be a week without my office. I can’t imagine giving up my career for some out-moded sexist straightjacket.’ I really just wanted to—” Amanda spelled out the word. “—S. M. A. C. K. her.”

  “Maybe you should have kicked her B. U. T. T.” Jake pinched her cheek.

  “Amanda, you shouldn’t waste your time on her—on anyone who doesn’t understand.” Peter set down his fork and wiped his mouth. “The fact that you quit your job to raise your girls is a wonderful thing. It took a lot of strength of character! Someone had to do it, and I honestly wouldn’t trust Jake without supervision. You don’t stop being a teacher just because you don’t have a classroom. What you’re doing for your girls, that’s something you’ll never regret. I’m a firm believer children need at least one parent at home, most of all during their early years.”

  “Well, a lot of these women consider the idea of staying home with their children embarrassing, which I hate. I went to Brown. I have a degree. I was on the Debate Team and a Delta Pi sister. I can use ‘existentialism’ in a sentence.”

  “I love it when she speaks in polysyllabic.” Jake laughed.

  Peter smiled. “Try this one: nimrod.”

  “Mommy, now? Can I put it on, peeeze—”

  Janie jumped in her chair. “Me, too, Momma. Me, too.”

  “You’re in trouble now, babe.” Jake lifted Janie out of her seat.

  “You guys make coffee while I machinate this metaphysical transformation. We’ll be right back.” Amanda held Janie on her hip and took Hope by the arm.

  Peter watched them climb slowly up the stairs, counting each one. Their small feet were dwarfed by the wide steps but accommodated by the low, comfortable rise.

  Jake turned to him. “Now tell me what’s happening, Peter. Tara? Maddy?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Peter shook his head. “I don’t want to spoil tonight.”

  Jake narrowed his eyes. “Then you get the cake while I make the coffee.”

  “I like the way you think, my friend.”

  Peter paused in the dining room to pull plates from Amanda’s cherry wood grandmother hutch and open the silverware drawer. His attention was drawn to a small silver frame on one of the shelves. It was a photograph of Amanda and Tara leaning side-by-side against a red Mustang, taken a few years before Amanda was married. Tara had twisted conscientiously to three-quarter profile to stare straight at the camera and laid a hand on her thigh in the recommended slimming pose for women, while Amanda’s head was turned casually over her shoulder, her hands lifted in a blur and laughter in her eyes. Peter was surprised it had taken him so long to realize how different they were. He must have subconsciously hoped Tara would become more like Amanda over the years.

  He knew now that wasn’t going to happen.

  Just as Jake was starting the coffee, the phone rang. “We missed you tonight.” Jake spoke loudly, and Peter looked up. Jake nodded and signaled. “He’s right here. I’ll put him on.” Jake raised his eyebrows as he handed Peter the phone.

  “What did you do today?” Tara’s voice was sharp. “I’ve been over here losing my mind.”

  “Hey, Tara.” Peter shifted the phone on his shoulder. “I came here after the press conference. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you. Jake invited me for dinner last minute, and I was too hungry to say no. The meeting was really intense.”

  “Right—that thing. How long did it take?”

  “About an hour.”

  “Why didn’t you call as soon as you got out?”

  “It was early, and I had things to do at the office. Have you been okay today?”

  “How long are you staying? Are you sleeping here tonight, or do you want me to come over?”

  “I’m beat. We’re having coffee, and if you’re fine I’m just going to go home.”

  “From the girls. I get it. They can be exhausting. I love my nieces, but I can’t imagine riding herd on them for more than an hour. I don’t know how Amanda does it. She had such a great career, now all gone down the tubes.”

  Peter rubbed his head. “Yeah, well. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Whatever. Love you to the max.”

  “Me, too, Tara.” Peter sighed and hung up. As he turned back toward the dining room Amanda stepped in his way, Janie and Hope in front of her dressed as butterflies in chiffon costumes, one orange and the other yellow, complete with sequined wings and sparkling antennae.

  “Is that Janie and Hope?” he said in a soft voice. “It can’t be! I only see butterflies.”

  “Look, Uncle Peter, what we can do.” Hope pulled on Janie, and they ran across the living room waving their arms. “We’re flying! We’re flying!”

  Peter ran behind them, picked the girls up under his arms, and began to spin around.

  “Momma, look, now we’re really flying!” Hope shouted when Peter lifted them high. Amanda laughed as Jake stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Peter saw him kiss her neck as she leaned back into him. The fire snapped in the fireplace, the lights reflected against the night windows, and the children shrieked with laughter in Peter’s arms as he spun. He could have kept spinning with them forever.

  When he finally put the girls down, he was panting and laughing to Jake and Amanda over their small, joyous heads.

  Chapter 24

  Demolition

  Peter sat on the couch with Tara asleep on his lap, staring at a small picture on a side table near his elbow. It was another photo of Tara. He had never noticed before how he was surrounded by photos of Tara all over her home. This one of her as a cheerleader in college, her feet perfectly placed on the shoulders of the center of three boys on the squad, her arms in a V position over her head, her smile confident and strong as she held her form.

  Peter sighed. It had been a long and arduous morning. They had been to the funeral of her father. After the burial, Peter had taken Tara, chattering nervously, back to her apartment, where he listened patiently until she calmed down enough to lie down in his lap and fall asleep. Peter had remained still on the couch as she slept, his left arm under her gradually going numb.

  It wasn’t exactly the photograph that bothered Peter, or the fact that she stood on the shoulders of the young athletic men as though she owned them. It was something else. It hurt him to think of Maddy and what she had missed. How different she was from Tara, how one had everything and the other had been stripped of her confidence in life.

  Tara moved in his lap. “How long was I sleeping?” she whispered.

  “A little over an hour.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Peter slid his arm cautiously out from under her.

  Tara sat upright abruptly and looked around. “Listen, I have to power out of here.” She staggered to her feet and began to pace the room, locating her things. “My mother needs me.”

  “Of course.” He flexed his arm unobtrusively, the blood returning.

  “But—I don’t really know how to say this without sounding—”

  “Say what, Tara?”

  “We have to postpone the wedding.”

  “What?” Peter stared in disbelief.

  Tara became mechanical as she paced. “I understand we’re going to take a hit, we’re going to lose our down payment on the hall and our reservation at the restaurant. However, I just can’t be thinking about a wedding right now. I have to focus on my family.”
/>   “I understand completely. Would you like me to take care of the cancellations?” Peter loosened his collar, his breath short.

  “No. It’ll keep my mind off things. But you should go to your office while I hop in the shower. I told my mother I’d be back ASAP.” She snapped her fingers. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “That’s fine, Tara.”

  Peter came out of the elevator and passed five people trying to get his attention in the lobby. He nodded to the secretary, stepped inside his office and closed the door. He sat down with his coffee at his desk and, after a moment, signaled to his assistant through the glass wall to get Bill Torres on the phone.

  He stayed late in the office that evening until the Library Compound plans were approved, the contract signed, the permits in order. He knew his work had begun to suffer lately, and he needed to apply himself. After a few hours he began to feel the old adrenaline flowing, and by dusk he was exhausted. This was what he needed. He wanted to forget for as long as he could. He imagined Jake’s voice: “Procrastination only prolongs the inevitable.”

  It felt comforting to work. Therapeutic.

  Yawning, he finally leaned across his desk and checked his calendar. He was scheduled for a breakfast meeting at the Governor’s Office and then had to oversee the contractors at the demolition site all day. Clearing of the site had begun that morning while he was at the funeral, and he knew this was just the beginning of many months ahead. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. He felt peace for the first time in weeks.

  The phone rang. “I hope you don’t mind me calling, honey.”

  “Hey, Mom. No, it’s fine. I’ve been meaning to call. Is everything all right?”

  “We’re just worried. How are you?”

  “I’m okay. You know.” Peter leaned back in his leather chair and dragged his hand through his hair. “I guess.”

  “And Tara? How was she at the funeral?”

  “It was hard, but she’s trying to be strong for her mother. She has Amanda. Also, I should tell you—” Peter picked up a pen and spun it between his fingers. “She postponed the wedding.”