by Jim Kokoris
And that was when I told him my new plan. Looking back on it, I suspect it was my Overall Plan all along.
* * *
We met everyone back at the inn late in the day. Mary and Sally looked wiped out, their faces pale and blank, but the girls didn’t seem much worse for wear. Mindy was wearing a new blue-and-white Ocean View sweatshirt with a picture of a sailboat.
“Got it from a nun.” She shrugged. “She wanted my Bud Light hat.”
When Ethan stepped out of the van, he was all smiles, and I hugged him like I had never hugged him before.
“Hi! Dad! How. Are. You?”
“Good. I’m good, Ethan. Did you like Ocean View? Play some hoops up there?”
“Yes!”
Karen handed me a file thick with papers. “You have to sign some things,” she said. “They need them tomorrow.”
I took the file. “How did it go?”
“Great,” Karen said. “He likes it. Likes his room. Seemed like he liked everything. I think it’s going to be okay.”
I gave her a hug. “Thanks. Thanks for doing that. Thank you.” Then I hugged Mindy. “You too. You too.” Karen smiled, but Mindy’s eyes started to mist. She quickly walked away.
“I’m beat,” Sally said. She had her arm around Mary’s waist as they walked into the inn. I took Ethan by the hand and followed.
“I got the sailboat!” Sal yelled out behind us. “At six. Sunset cruise. It’ll be nice. Don’t be late or I’ll leave without you.”
* * *
I thought I would take Ethan swimming, but as soon as we got back to my room, he climbed into bed and pulled the sheet over himself. While this wasn’t totally unexpected—midday naps weren’t uncommon for him back home—I was still surprised.
“Don’t you want to go swimming?”
“Sleep.”
“Really? You sure?”
“Sleep.”
“Okay.” I pulled off his shoes, then sat on the bed and studied his face. When I tried to brush back his hair, he pushed my hand away.
“Leave. Now.”
I kissed him on the forehead and then watched him fall asleep, my mind whirling. When I heard his heavy breathing, I walked over to the table by the window and called Mary on the hotel phone.
“I was going to call you,” she said.
“So, how was it, really?”
“Fine. Not bad. The girls made all the difference. Two of the aides recognized Mindy, took her picture, so that kind of lightened things up. And thank God for Karen. She handled the papers, asked the right questions, helped the doctor with the checkup. Everything went okay.”
“How was he? Do you think he liked it?”
“Well, he was in a good mood. So, that’s a good sign. He shot some baskets in the gym and ate a big lunch. So, a solid start. We met his aide, and she seemed nice.”
“Tomorrow’s going to be hell,” I said.
“You don’t have to come.”
“Of course I’m coming.”
“Then we’ll get through it.”
“Listen”—I glanced back at Ethan, kept my voice low—“I’ve been thinking about this whole thing again.”
“Don’t.”
“No, listen. I’ve been thinking that maybe I’m going to stay here in Camden for a while.”
“What? Why? You know, you can’t see him. No contact for an entire month.”
“Well, I think I’m going to stay longer.” I paused before revealing my new plan. “I think I’m going to move here, live here. You know, permanently. I mean, I am. I’m going to move here.”
She didn’t say anything, so I went on. “I’ll rent a house or something, a room. Camden is nice.”
Mary remained quiet.
“Hello? You there?”
“What about your job? Your place?”
“I’m going to quit. Believe me, they won’t care. They’ll be relieved. I’ll get most of my pension anyway. And I’ll sell the condo, so I’ll have some cash.”
“So you’re going to just pick up and move across the country.”
“Yes. Yes. I’m not leaving him. He can stay in the home, and I’ll see him when I want. Every day probably. Maybe I can get a job up there. I don’t know. Hell, I’ll probably end up being a bartender somewhere. But I’m staying and that’s it. I’m not leaving him. I’m staying as long as he does.”
I had come up with all of this just hours before, but the more I said, the more it made sense and the better I felt.
“Hello? Mary?”
“Want some company?”
I didn’t think I heard her right. “What?”
“I said, you want some company?”
I was confused. “What do you mean? Like Sal?”
“Me, John. Me. I was thinking of doing the same thing.”
I swallowed. “Are you serious?”
“The house is empty. I’d probably be a little closer to the girls. What’s back there for me?”
“You mean, you would stay. With me?”
“Yes.”
“Just you and me?”
“Yes.”
It was my turn to be quiet. After a moment I said, “That would, well, that would be wonderful.”
“I don’t want to rent, though,” she said. “I’m sure we can find something to buy.”
I was still confused. “So, we would stay in the same place, live together?”
“You are so obtuse.”
“Sorry, but I’m processing a lot.”
“It will be our big adventure. You owe me one.”
“What happens if he doesn’t like the home, it doesn’t work out?”
“He’s going to like the home.”
I held on to the phone, speechless, afraid I was going to say or do something that would ruin all of this. Finally I just said, “That would be great.”
“We’re probably getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s get through tomorrow. Let’s not tell the girls or anyone about us yet. Let’s focus on Ethan. Get through tomorrow.”
“Sure. Fine. My lips are sealed.”
“How is he?” she asked.
“Taking a nap. He went right down.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I think I will too. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“Okay. On the boat. Hey, one more thing. I love you.”
“I know that, John.”
* * *
Captain Jack was waiting for us at the dock. He was a sprightly man of about seventy with a shock of white hair and a crinkly, sunburned face. His grip was firm, though, when he took my arm and helped me onto his boat.
“Watch your step, young man,” he said.
I waited for Ethan to board, then took him by the hand and led him to the front, trying to contain my excitement. I had never been on a boat like this before, a large schooner, so I compartmentalized, pushing all my worries and concerns about the next day aside. I tightened Ethan’s orange life preserver and scanned the horizon. It was a magnificent evening: blue sky, bluer water, all encased in a warm breeze.
“Nice out,” I said.
It took a while for Sal to load all the food on board—he had bought enough for an Atlantic crossing—and when he finally finished, we pushed off from the dock.
Ethan clutched me as the boat first moved, the sense of motion disconcerting, but exciting. “Wow.”
“Wow,” I said.
He continued to hold me tight, and I carefully sat down with him and pointed out some islands and other boats. He was, as always, obsessed with the weather.
“Windy.”
“Yes, it’s windy. But not too bad.”
After a few minutes the girls joined us. Karen, in a pair of white shorts and white deck shoes, looked born for the boat, while Mindy, in standard evil elf attire, looked anything but. She stood over us, holding on tight to the ropes.
“I’m trying to decide when the perfect time to throw up is,” she said.
“Probably after we eat,” Karen said, sitting down next to me.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
Karen smiled, pushed her hair out of her eyes. “So, Daddy-o, you got something to tell us? Some good news about you and Mom?”
“What, no, why, what?” I then realized what she was talking about. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Karen said.
“Your mother cannot keep a secret. No one in this family can.”
“Windy!”
“Yeah, it’s windy, Ethan,” Karen said. “We’re glad for you, Dad.”
“Yeah,” Mindy said. “I was positive you were gay.”
“I have been pledged to secrecy,” I said.
“Windy!”
I ran my hand through Ethan’s hair then smoothed it down. “I don’t know how long he’ll last on this boat. In about an hour, he might try to throw Captain Jack overboard.”
“After an hour with us, Captain Jack might want to throw himself overboard,” Mindy said.
“He’ll be fine,” Karen said. “Uncle Sal bought enough Sprite and pickles to last a month.”
Mindy squatted beside us, and we all looked at the ocean in silence, the wind warm in our faces. Once we cleared the harbor, Captain Jack, in an authentic New England accent, offered a brief history of Maine. I was surprised to learn that there were thousands of islands off the coast of the state.
“A lot of islands,” I said.
“Maybe you and Mom will live on one,” Mindy said. “It will be fun to visit an island.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Mary and the Sals busying themselves organizing the food. Sal was holding up a large lobster, examining it. “I’ll mention that to your mother,” I said. “The girls want an island.”
“I better go back there and help,” Karen said, rising. Mindy followed, working her way unsteadily down the ropes.
“Where. Mom. Be?”
“She’s helping get dinner ready.”
“Where. Pickles. Be?”
“They’re coming.”
“Where. Sprite. Be?”
“It’s coming.”
I feared things were on the verge of deteriorating into Question Mode, but Ethan put his face up to the sky. “Windy!”
“Yes. You like the boat?”
“More.”
“We’ll be on it for a while. All of us.”
I pulled him close, thrilled with the look of happiness on his face. The next day we would take him to Ocean View; lay Stinky, Grandpa Bear, and Red Bear on his bed by the window; shoot some baskets in the gym; have lunch in the café; and then all of us would hold one another and weep unabashedly in a sunlit foyer while an aide named Tammy took Ethan by the hand and led him down a hallway. He wouldn’t look over his shoulder when he left, and for that not-so-small miracle, I would always be grateful.
Afterward we would slowly make our way back to the inn, where Mary and I would begin our second chapter while waiting for a month to pass. We would get through that month though, as we always did, day by day, minute by minute, taking the next step together, waiting for Ethan.
But all that was ahead of us as I sat cross-legged on the bow of the boat, moving out toward open sea. Behind me, through the wind, I smelled Sal’s cigar, heard Mindy’s voice and then Karen’s and Mary’s laughs, and at that moment everything was fine. The boat caught a large wave and dipped, and when it did, Ethan raised his arms up to the evening sky.
“It’s. Nice. Outside!” he cried.
“No,” I said, reaching for him. “It’s beautiful outside. It’s beautiful.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Appreciation and a big thank you to a number of people including: my longtime publisher, St. Martin’s, for sticking with me all these years, especially my wonderfully supportive editor, Nichole Argyres, who always makes my books better; and her team, particularly Laura Chasen, who helps keep things moving forward; my agent, Joe Veltre, for his on-target counsel and help on a wide range of issues; Gordon Mennenga, and Tammy Greenwood, for wading through messy early drafts of this book and offering their insight; Stinky Bear, Red Bear, and Grandpa Bear, for their uncompromising friendship over the past twenty years; the people of Elim Christian School who love and support Andrew every day; the folks at JSH&A, especially my partners Jonni, Cheryl, and Deanna, for creating a perfect work/life balance so I can write in the morning; my sons John and Mikey, the best big brothers Andrew could have.
And, of course, Anne, who makes everyday a very good day.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JIM KOKORIS is the author of the novels The Rich Part of Life, which has been published in fifteen languages and for which he won a Friends of American Writers Award for Best First Novel, Sister North, and The Pursuit of Other Interests. A graduate of the University of Illinois, Jim lives in the Chicago area with his family. You can sign up for email updates here.
ALSO BY JIM KOKORIS
The Rich Part of Life
Sister North
The Pursuit of Other Interests
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Jim Kokoris
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
IT’S. NICE. OUTSIDE. Copyright © 2015 by Jim Kokoris. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Jacket design by Lisa Marie Pompilio
Jacket photograph © Shutterstock
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kokoris, Jim.
It’s. Nice. Outside.: a novel / Jim Kokoris.
pages ; cm
ISBN 978-1-250-03605-6 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-03606-3 (e-book)
1. Domestic fiction. I. Title.
PS3611.O58I87 2015
813'.6—dc23
2015029698
e-ISBN 9781250036063
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].
First Edition: December 2015