Sunflowers

by Melodie Starkey

  “Just the rocking chair. It’s kinda big,” Sam answered seriously.

  “And he kinda gets in trouble for chewing on it,” Gus reminded him. “We’ll bring him Sam’s football. He likes that. We can get a new one.”

  “I could sleep here,” Sam suggested.

  “Or not.”

  Dr. Welsch smiled at them and said, “I need to get back to work. Stay as long as you want. Just make sure to latch the door when you leave, okay?”

  “Thanks, doctor.” He joined Sam in the kennel, sitting in front of the dog to rub his ears for him.

  Gus took advantage of Frodo’s absence to have the carpets shampooed and the upholstery cleaned. He also alphabetized his CDs and sorted his books into categories. One day he cleaned every closet in the house, hauling several loads to the Salvation Army and several more to the dump.

  “Are we movin’?” Sam asked nervously.

  “No. I’m just having a little problem concentrating on my work right now, so I’m trying to be productive. It’s called writer’s block.”

  “I know how to write.”

  “Yes, you do. How are you at coding?”

  “Daddy! That’s your job!”

  “Sometimes I just need a little time off from it, though.”

  “Jordan’s dad don’t got his job no more. Jordan said the bank might move into their house and they’ll have to move out. Why would a bank want to live in a house?”

  “Sounds pretty silly to me. Do you want Red Lobster for dinner?”

  “Taco Bell.”

  “Giordano’s?”

  “Okay. Can we get cake?”

  “Those of us who eat the crust on their pizza can.”

  “You’re so silly!”

  Chapter 12

  He knew why he couldn’t work: every time he sat still for long he thought of her. He could probably contact her through the university. Wait—where had he put the police report? Her name and address were on that. No. That would be stalking. He had to let it go. Most likely she had a serious relationship. Everyone else except him did. He needed to forget her. Needed to stop seeing her every time he closed his eyes. This was silly. Sam was right; he was silly.

  On Wednesday he glanced at the royalty check he received in the mail and had an idea. He pulled on his coat and headed down the street to Jordan’s house. He and Sam spent a lot of time with these people, barbecuing in each other’s backyards, taking the kids to sporting events, babysitting for each other. Last year he had tutored Craig in Algebra. He had kept Craig and Jordan when Ellen had a hysterectomy. They had kept Sam and Frodo for him while he went to Las Vegas for a week. Hopefully this wouldn’t be considered insulting.

  Frank answered the door, dressed in baggy sweats. “Hey, neighbor. What drags you out in this cold?”

  “Hey, Buddy. Your wife home?”

  “No. Somebody’s gotta work around here.”

  “Yeah. I heard. Sucks.”

  “Twenty-three years at that hole. Then they decide to ‘centralize.’ In Texas.” He shook his head, then gestured the couch. “Sit. Want some coffee?”

  “No thanks. Look, Frank, I’m here for a reason. I’m gonna make you an offer here. Before you get mad, I want you to really think it over. Talk to Ellen about it. Don’t get insulted. It’s just an idea.”

  Frank frowned. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

  “See, a little bird told me the bank is thinking about moving into your house. Personally, I hate banks. I like people. I like you guys.”

  Frank looked surprised, but didn’t speak.

  “I was thinking—I could invest, see? I could buy this house as an investment. You guys could rent it from me. Like a rent-to-own thing. At an adjusted amount, allowing for your income, see?”

  Frank stood up and walked in a circle around the room, then turned and frowned at him. “Let me get this straight. You want to buy my house. Then rent it to me. But below the mortgage payment cost.”

  “Right. Until you’re ready to buy it back. Or not, if you decide not to—no pressure. Like I said, it’s an investment to me.”

  “We look that much like charity cases, huh?”

  “No. You look like friends. And I want to do this as your friend. I want our sons to grow up together. This money is nothing to me. Your friendship is way more valuable.”

  “You’re nuts,” Frank said, sitting back down. “You have any idea how much I’ve got sunk in this place?”

  “I’ll buy it at market value. You can keep the equity.”

  Frank laughed. “Equity? This joint has so many liens on it, it’s amazing it’s still standing.”

  “Okay, then I’ll pay it off even. Start clean.”

  “You think a bank’ll front you that kinda money?”

  “I told you I dislike banks. I’m going to use cash.”

  Frank laughed again. “You’re telling me you’ve got about $300,000 cash on hand?”

  “It’s in liquid assets. I think real estate is safer. More tangible.”

  Now Frank squinted at him. “You’re for real on this, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “You told Ellen about this?”

  “No. I figured it was mainly your decision.”

  “Hm.” Frank stood again, crossing to the front window to look out. With his back to Gus, he commented, “What price pride, huh?”

  “I’m sorry. Please don’t be offended.”

  “You got that sort of loose change, why you living around here?”

  “Because I like it here. Sam likes it here. We don’t have any family, so this neighborhood is real important to us.”

  Frank faced him again. “So what happens if next year it’s your turn? Whatever your cash cow is runs dry? Then two of us are out of houses.”

  “My house is paid for. I’m not big on credit. I have enough to retire right now. This isn’t a risky transaction.”

  “Can I ask you something personal, Gus?”

  “Sure.”

  “Just where does your money come from? You inherit it?”

  “Not at all. I’m South Side. Shared a room with my big sister until I was ten. Got my college money scraping wallpaper, and getting a truckload of financial aid. Student loans. Big ones. So when I graduated, I needed to make lots of money. Bought a computer on credit. Wrote a program. Sold it for $50,000. And just took off from there.”

  “You sold a computer program for $50,000. What, to the Russians?”

  Gus laughed. “Worse. To the Japanese. I write games. Computer games. Those ones that devour the brains of our youth, you know?”

  “No shit! You really do that? That’s really what you’re sittin’ over there doing?”

  “Really, yeah.”

  “Man! We all kinda figured you were maybe getting alimony or something. Collecting on life insurance, you know? Ha!” He shook his head. “Did you make Grand Theft Auto?”

  “No. I’m not responsible for that one. I go for the more esoteric, less for the pure gut kill. Smaller profit, but less guilt. I like to add a little problem solving and imagination along with the lightning bolts, magic, blood.”

  Frank guffawed. “That kills me! You’re getting paid to play! Paid a ton of money?”

  “Enough, yeah. Hey, what was something you always liked doing, like before you became a responsible adult? Maybe you can turn it into a career, too.”

  Frank chuckled, shaking his head. “You know what, things I enjoyed doing in my glory days would probably kill me now. But I’m glad for you. You’re a good example for my boys. Let me talk to Ellen about it.”

  “Good.” Gus stood up.

  “Hey, how’s the two hundred pound dust mop doin’?”

  “Gonna be fine. Coming home on Friday.”

  “Good. Gimme a call—I can go with to help you lift him.”

  “Cool.”

  “Lots of upset small fry around here when that happened.”

  Gus nodded. “Yeah. Scared the piss outta me. Hey, one other thing.”

&
nbsp; “Mm?”

  “If we do this, maybe it could be kept sort of close? I’d rather the kids not know. The other neighbors.”

  Frank smiled. “Sounds good. Hey, thanks. Thanks for even offering.”

  Chapter 13

  Gus had just walked Sam to the bus stop—a duty that was usually Frodo’s—and returned to his too-quiet house. Sam was in kindergarten this year—four hours a day. What would it be like next year, when he was gone all day? A few years from now, when he stayed late for sports or music or other activities? When he started dating? When he left for college? Utterly unfathomable.

  The neighbors occasionally turned up strays for him at dinner parties or less formal social events. Maybe he should start paying better attention. But he closed his eyes and could only see Sarah’s timid smile. How unfair!

  It was snowing. He should start shoveling; keep a leg up on it. He opened the door to step out and nearly slammed it shut again in shock.

  “Oh! Hi!” Sarah exclaimed, stepping back, her arm still outstretched to knock.

  “Lord! You scared me to death! I didn’t hear you…”

  “I didn’t knock yet. You’re too fast.”

  He laughed. “That explains it. Come in!” He gestured for her to enter.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt. You’re going somewhere?”

  “To shovel. Which I’d love to procrastinate from. Really. Please come in.”

  “Okay.” She bit her lip, but followed his gesture to the foyer. “How’s the dog? And your son?”

  “Both fine. Frodo comes home tomorrow. We’ve been visiting him every day, so Sam knows he’s getting better. How are you? You’re looking more green than purple now.”

  She smiled. “Either I’m healing or I’m molding, right?”

  “Your students been goofing on you?”

  “Mercilessly. How could they not? And I made the mistake of telling them what happened. They assure me my face is nothing compared to the fact that I’ve scarred your child for life.”

  He shook his head. “Look at it as that you’ve taught the whole neighborhood of kids their parents have a reason for telling them not to play in the street.”

  “Thank you for being so kind.”

  “Come in. You want to try some tea again? He won’t be home for hours.”

  “Um…”

  “Thank you for coming back.” He took off his coat and hung it on the coat tree, then held out his hand for hers.

  She hesitated, then said, “I don’t know what I’m doing here!”

  He raised a curious brow, but didn’t speak. She continued, talking to the floor, “I’m thirty-one years old. I’ve always been so reserved and confident and…you make me feel like a giddy sixteen-year-old. I shouldn’t…”

  He touched her cheek, silencing her. Then he stepped closer and cautiously kissed her, whispering, “I feel it, too.”

  They didn’t speak then, kissing wildly and exploring each other with their hands, leaving a trail of clothing behind as he guided her to the bedroom. But as he hungrily devoured her body with his lips and tongue, he paused to admit, “I haven’t been…I don’t have any condoms.”

  She blushed deeply, confessing, “I have some. In my purse.”

  He chuckled. “Good. I’ll get it.”

  When they were at last both breathing evenly again, she kissed his chin lightly and asked, “Um, is this…normal for you?”

  “Normal?”

  “Your…stamina?”

  “St… Oh! I’m sorry! I’m just so worried I’m really imagining this, I wanted it to last as long as possible.”

  “I’m not complaining, believe me! Very nice!”

  He smiled and pulled her closer, whispering, “Please don’t disappear on me.”

  She kissed him lightly again, then suddenly exclaimed, “What am I doing!” She sat up abruptly.

  “Sarah?” He sat up too, trying to reach for her.

  “I don’t even know you! I don’t do this—I’ve never done something like this!”

  “Neither have I. But it doesn’t feel wrong to me—feel bad. Doesn’t feel encapsulated. This feels like a beginning. Can’t this be a beginning?”

  She studied him a moment, then turned away to get up.

  “Sarah!”

  “Doesn’t Sam come home soon?”

  “What? Oh!” He scrambled up, too. “How’d it get to be noon?”

  She giggled and handed him his boxers.

  Once they were dressed, he asked, “Do you need to go? Could you stay for lunch?”

  “I don’t want to upset…”

  “He won’t get upset. He apologized to me for yelling at you last time. It’ll give him a chance to see you’re a real person. Please?”

  “Okay.”

  “I usually make soup and sandwiches in winter. That okay? Or we could go out.”

  “Soup and sandwiches sounds good.” She followed him into the kitchen. “I like your house.”

  “Thanks. Where do you live?”

  “Downtown, actually. I’ve got a condo. My father’s out here, though. I try to visit him once a week—Thursday—that’s my day off of classes.”

  “Not your mom?”

  “They’re divorced. She’s still in Ontario. But he’s in a home. Stroke. Real frustrating for him. It’s sad.”

  “It’s good that you’re around for him.”

  “Mm. Your folks still in Chicago?”

  “I don’t think so. At least not in the same house.”

  She frowned. “You don’t know?”

  “I’m the black sheep. Only boy with two overbearing big sisters. I was supposed to be a plumber and take over the old man’s business so he could retire.”

  “They disowned you for that? It’s not like you’re a criminal or something. Are you?”

  He chuckled. “No. Just a geek. We actually had a huge family fight, which I’d rather not go into. I ended up staying with a friend’s family until I got into college. Never looked back.”

  “So they don’t know about Sam?”

  “No. I wouldn’t want them to. What sort of soup do you like?”

  “Pretty much anything. What were you planning to have?”

  “Minestrone?”

  “Sounds great! What can I do to help?”

  He pointed to the cupboard. “Bowls and plates. Sam needs the Pirates of the Caribbean ones. Silverware is there.”

  She reached in the cupboard, smiling to see two stacks of everything: Corelle and Disney. “You’ve always had custody, huh?”

  “Since three months, yeah.”

  “That something you guys agreed on, or you fought for?”

  He smiled. “That was pretty much the one thing we never fought about. We weren’t actually on speaking terms by then. She just dumped him on my couch one night and split.”

  “You didn’t have a problem with that?”

  “Problem?”

  “Like believing…”

  “Oh. No. She wasn’t a slut. Just a bitch. Spoiled princess type, you know?” He shrugged. “Wasn’t all her fault. I was a crappy boyfriend. Didn’t compromise well. Didn’t like having to invest emotionally.” He chuckled then. “Being a parent has sure cured me of myself, I’ll tell you!”

  On cue, the front door banged, and Sam charged in, exclaiming, “I brung the choc’late test!”

  “The what?”

  “It’s from Jordan’s dad. Look! Choc’late stuff. We gotta eat ‘em and then tell what’s best or baddest and stuff. But eat lunch first, and don’t eat ‘til you puke. And if we gots algaes we hafta call him so he can tell you what’s the greedents.” He shoved a plate of assorted baked goods at Gus, then turned to her and said, “What’s your name? Are you stayin’ for lunch?”

  She smiled delight. “My name is Sarah. Is it okay for me to join you for lunch?”

  “Course. Then you can help us. Do you like choc’late?”

  “I do, yes.”

  “I think Jordan’s dad is gonnta be like Willy W
onka.”

  “I hope not. I’m afraid of Oompa Loompas,” Sarah said.

  Sam laughed. “Don’t worry. Oompa Loompas is more ‘fraid of Frodo, and he’s comin’ home tomorrow.”

  “Good!”

  “Grilled cheese or peanut butter?” Gus asked her.

  “Peanut butter sounds great.”

  Sam said, “I like to eat it off a spoon like a lolly. Do you?”

  She smiled. “I love that. But it’s even better on hot pancakes with syrup poured over it.”

  “That sounds good!”

  “You ever heard the term ‘diabetes’?” Gus commented.

  “Have some chocolate,” she replied, then asked Sam, “Could you show me where everyone sits so I can put the dishes out right?”

  “Daddy sits there ‘cause he’s the cook.” He pointed to the chair closest to the stove. “I sit back there so I can sneak stuff to Frodo when he’s not lookin.’ You should sit by me. We need to talk.”

  She tried not to laugh, looking over at Gus.

  Gus put one hand on his hip and said, “Listen, young man, this is my girl. You go find your own. And speaking of needing to talk—do we feed the dog at the table?”

  “Not when you’re lookin.’” He helped her set her plate next to his own.

  “Man! I get no respect!”

  “But I love you,” Sam answered plainly.

  Sarah smiled in delight.

  Chapter 14

  Sarah showed up each Thursday morning, falling eagerly into bed with him, but staying only long enough to share their lunch, excusing herself to tend to her ailing father. While he was certainly happy with the physical part of these visits, they made him feel empty afterwards. He wanted to know her more, wanted to talk to her for hours on end, to take her to restaurants or dancing or even just to hold hands through a movie. He wanted a companion, not a whore.

  Sam took her presence for granted when she was there, and never seemed to notice when she wasn’t. He was far more concerned with Frodo’s convalescence, and Jordan’s dad’s ventures into the world of confectionaries.

  During the boys’ Spring break, Gus decided to take Sam and Jordan to Chicago for the day. They spent the morning imitating the penguins and gawking at the belugas at the aquarium, then headed to lunch on Michigan Avenue before he subjected them to the Chicago Art Institute, which he had been exposing them to in tiny doses every time they came downtown for anything.