Shari sighed. “I know that. This isn’t about trust, Sam. I keep everyone locked out because the memories are too painful for me. I don’t go in there, won’t go in there, and don’t want anyone else going in there. Do you understand? I suppose that sounds crazy to you.”
“Well, you did marry an Italian.”
“What?”
“Never mind, sweetie, just a punchline to an old joke. Look, I understand and if Tommy understands, then this is all water under the bridge. I didn’t know you felt that way. I know I sure miss my folks. I guess we all have our own way of keepin’ their memory alive.”
“I guess we do.”
Sam waited until Shari was done dishing up and he followed her out to the dining room. They sat at the table as Tom spoon-fed his mother, occasionally dabbing her chin with a paper napkin.
“Tell me about your day,” said Doris, between bites. “And how did you end up with that no-good on your doorstep?”
“I can hear you,” said Sam.
Doris rolled her eyes as Tom shoveled in another spoonful. “That’s just ma being funny,” he said. “I was down at Shari’s office and we took a walk in the park. We ran into Sam at a coffee shop. Sam’s working now. He got a job with a construction company. Isn’t that nice, ma?”
“Do they know about his criminal record?”
“Yes,” said Sam, “they know all about me. I got ears, Doris.”
“And they still hired you? Boy, they must be desperate for help. That must not be a very good company. No offence, Sam, but I wouldn’t hire you.”
“And I wouldn’t hire you,” said Sam. “That makes us even.”
“Tom,” said Shari, “would you mind turning on CNN? I feel like I haven’t caught the news in weeks.”
“That’s because you’ve been too busy shacking up with my son,” grunted Doris. “Do you think I don’t remember what it was like to be a newlywed?”
Now it was Tom’s turn to groan. He stood up and found the remote control. A moment later, he found CNN on the satellite and he turned up the sound until it felt as if the reporters were shouting at them. He then resumed feeding his mother.
As usual, the news was all bad. The Russians were up to no good in Eastern Europe and the Chinese were busy flexing their military muscles across Asia. Another jetliner had mysteriously disappeared, while wildfires swept across California. Inflation, once thought to be in check, was hitting consumers hard. And the Minnesota Twins, Tom’s favorite baseball team, was tied for last place in the American League with the Kansas City Royals. Some things never changed, thought Tom.
Doris finished everything on her plate and asked Tom if she could have seconds. Shari offered to take over his duties so he could eat, but Doris nixed that idea without even opening her mouth. There was no mistaking the look, a look that would have sent small children running to the hills.
Eventually, Tom was able to eat his dinner. He sat at the table with Shari and Sam, and the three of them talked quietly about the day’s top news stories. Every now and again, Doris would turn in their direction and give them a look of disapproval.
“Where do you think those airplanes are?” asked Sam.
“I don’t know,” said Tom, “but it sure is creepy.”
“Somebody knows,” said Shari. “I’m not buying it that they just vanished without a trace.”
“Aliens!” shouted Doris.
Tom closed his eyes and chewed his food, wondering if he could make it until Friday. If everything went according to schedule, they were supposed to spring their surprise upon his mother at 7:00 that evening. Tom found that he was counting the minutes.
“Could be,” said Shari, “that’s not as crazy as it sounds.”
Doris hauled herself to her feet and mechanically, like a broken robot, she began to shuffle over to the dining room. “Did you just call me crazy?” she bellowed. “I’ll tell you what’s crazy. Crazy is living in this little shack with that great big mansion sitting empty, right next door! Crazy is working at some stupid job when you’ve got more money than Jay P. Rockefeller. That’s crazy. Oh, don’t get me going about crazy.”
“Ma, will you just stop it?”
“No, Tom, let her speak her mind,” said Shari, holding up her finger. “I want to hear it.”
“Oh boy,” muttered Sam, “here we go.”
Dressed like an aging Raggedy Ann, Doris staggered until she stood next to the table. “You want to hear it? Well that’s just fine with me. Why the hell is he here?” she asked, pointing to Sam. “You both must be crazy. They don’t call him Shifty for nothin’, ya know. Can’t you see that he’s just casing your house out?”
“I’ve heard enough,” said Sam. “I’m not going to take this.”
“Oh, shut up and quit acting like you’re some white knight shining in armor or something. You’re a three time loser, Sam. You’ve done nothing but cast a bad shadow over this family. Everyone thinks we’re in the damn mafia because of you. Do you want to know what the neighborhood kids used to call me? Machine-gun Doris. Yeah, that’s right, and do you think I liked it? That’s on your head, Sam. You brought shame down upon this family.”
Sam jabbed his toothpick in Doris’ direction. “Who are you to talk? Yeah, I made some mistakes and I paid for all of them. But you’re dead wrong when it comes to the man I am today. I might not be no knight in shining armor, which, by the way, is how the expression is supposed to go. But I’ll tell you one thing, Doris, I gave my life over to Jesus Christ and I’m a changed man. You can say whatever you like about my past. I know I was a loser, but I’m not that same guy. I have a good job and a future to look forward to. What do you got, huh? I’ll tell you what you’ve got: you got nuttin’. You’re a sick old broad who gets her jollies by making everyone around you miserable. Can’t you ever be nice?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” shrieked Doris. “I’ve always been nice to you and this is how you repay me? You sit there and lie to everyone about giving your life to the Lord, but we all know it’s a lie. You’re nothing but a common thief!”
“Please stop,” groaned Tom.
“Yes,” said Shari, “now it’s my turn. Sam is a guest in our house, Doris, and I won’t allow you to speak of him that way. I don’t care if you think I’m crazy. As a matter of fact, I don’t care at all what you think of me. Let’s get back to your injuries, shall we? You said that you fell down the steps? I’m not buying it. Why don’t you tell us the truth, Doris? We all know where you really fell.”
The color drained from Doris’ face as she put her hands on her hips. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
Shari sipped her wine. “You fell down in the tunnel, isn’t that right?”
“Ma, is that really what happened?”
“What tunnel? I told you that I fell down the stairs. Quit putting words into my mouth!”
Shari crossed her arms. “Stop lying about it. Do we have to go down there and see for ourselves? Judging by the way you look, I’m pretty sure we’ll find fresh blood down there. Tom, Sam told me that you know all about the tunnel. Would you be kind enough to walk down there with me?”
“Stop it!” shouted Doris. “Okay, I was down there. You don’t have to make a federal case out of it. What did you expect me to do all day, play tiddlywinks? I found your stupid tunnel when I was dusting. Naturally, I was curious and wanted to see where it went. If you ask me, you should be more worried about Sam knowing about it. He’s the family felon.”
“I ain’t even gonna dignify that with a response,” said Sam, rising up from his chair. “Tom, Shari, I’m going to head down to my room. I’m sorry if I raised my voice. Good night.”
“And I’m sorry, too,” said Doris. “I shouldn’t have said all of those mean things. Give me a break, I did bang my head.”
Sam looked at Doris as if she had just vomited on him. He then picked up his dishes and walked into the kitchen.
“I am sorry, Shari,” whispered Doris. “I just
can’t say anything right. All my words get mixed up and once again, old Doris sticks her foot into her mouth. Tommy, please say that you forgive me? I love you, I really do. I love you, both.”
Shari gave Doris a polite smile and nodded her head. She then gathered up her dishes and brought them into the kitchen. With the CNN anchor screaming at them from the television, Tom and Doris stared at each other. “Ma,” said Tom, “you really need to work on biting your tongue. You hurt people.”
“I know, I know, and I am working on it, Tommy,” said Doris, the first tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. Do you forgive me?”
“Of course, Ma, but I’m your son. I have to forgive you. I want you to make things right with Shari and Sam. Not tonight, but soon.”
Doris put a hand to her forehead and sobbed. “I have a terrible headache, honey. I think I’m going to go to bed.”
Tom stood up and gave his mother a hug. “Get some rest. Tomorrow is another day.”
“I’ll try and remember that. Good night, Tommy. Mommy loves you.”
“And your Tommy loves you,” replied Tom, something they had been saying to each other at bedtime for as long as Tom could remember. Except this time, Tom had felt nothing for his mother as he said it. This made him feel bad. Watching his mom shuffle away, obviously in great pain, only made him feel worse. Tom walked into the living room and shut off the television. There had been enough shouting for one night.
Chapter 8
The following morning, Tom was up and out of bed at the crack of dawn. He took a quick shower and dressed in the inky morning light. As he pulled on his socks, he noticed something peculiar about Shari as she slept. He moved closer to the bed to get another look, and as he did so, his heart skipped a beat. Tom took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He then put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a shake. “Hey,” he whispered, “wake up, baby.”
“I’m not leaving the house,” growled Shari. “Someone has to stay here and babysit your mother.”
“Come on, don’t be like that.”
“I’m not leaving and that’s final. What time is it?”
“It’s just after five.”
“Are you serious? Why did you wake me up so early? You know I’ll never get back to sleep.”
“Today is a special day. There is something I want you to see. Will you at least have a cup of coffee with me?”
Shari threw the covers back and sat up. She was still angry about the previous evening and had never been much of a morning person. She glared at Tom, and his stupid grin only fanned the flames of her anger. “Whatever you do, do not wake up your mother. I do not want to see her.”
“I don’t blame you and the thought never crossed my mind.”
“Will you stop smiling at me?”
Tom didn’t realize that he had been smiling and he quickly turned around. He began transferring the contents of yesterday’s pockets into today’s pockets. Behind him, he could hear Shari get out of bed and pull on her robe. She muttered something as she did so and it took all of Tom’s willpower not to break out laughing. “I love you,” he whispered.
“Special day… pfft,” grunted Shari. She then walked into the bathroom and closed the door. The light came on and then Shari began to shriek. “Oh my God!” she cried. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!”
Tom watched as the bathroom door flung open and Shari, the paralysis gone from her face, rushed into his arms. She was crying and she sobbed tears of joy into his shoulder. “You see,” he said, stroking her hair, “I told you that it was a special day.”
Shari tore herself away and charged back to the bathroom mirror. She ran her fingers over her face, crying, laughing; her bottom lip trembling. “I can’t believe it,” she moaned. “I just can’t believe it.”
Tom stood behind her and he wrapped his arms around her middle. “Now,” he cooed into her ear, “what was all this nonsense about staying home? I’d think you’d want to get out of the house and share this miracle.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m going straight down to the office. After that, I’m going to meet you at your mother’s house and take you out to Murray’s for the best steak on the menu. Oh my God, I’m never going to be able to sleep. You don’t know how many times I’ve prayed for this day to happen. Now, get out of here! I need to get into the shower. I’m dying to put makeup on my new face!”
“I love you.”
“Oh, and I love you, too!”
Tom spun Shari around and they exchanged a tender, passionate kiss; their tears mingling together. He then left her there and closed the bathroom door and walked downstairs.
Sam was waiting for him. He was already dressed and holding a coffee cup. A fresh toothpick hung from the corner of his mouth. “What the hell happened up there?” he asked. “Is Shari alright?”
Tom held up his hands and nodded. “Yes, everything is just great,” he said, walking by Sam and into the kitchen. He had no intentions of stealing Shari’s thunder. “Thanks for making coffee.”
“You didn’t hurt her, did you?”
Tom turned on Sam and gave him a glare. “You know me better than that.”
Sam shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re a big guy, Fat Tommy, and Shari is just a little thing. For God’s sake, do I have to spell it out for ya? I was worried about her.”
“No, you don’t have to spell it out for me. Look, Shari is fine and let’s talk about something else, okay?”
Sam shrugged and followed Tom into the kitchen. He set his coffee cup down on the counter and stretched his arms into the air. “I’m sore as hell,” he groaned. “I’m not used to putting in twelve hour shifts. Still, I got to admit, I feel pretty damn good for an old guy.”
Tom poured himself a cup of coffee, lost in his own thoughts. Sam was right, he was a big guy. And to be totally honest with himself, they didn’t call him Fat Tommy for nothing. Had he and Shari met for the first time, today, would she even have given him a second look? Tom doubted it. Without realizing it, he ran his fingers through his thinning hair. His mind was a jumble of unconfident thoughts and he could hear Sam talking, but he had no idea what he was saying. He sipped his coffee and turned to face Sam.
“So I said to the guy,” continued Sam. “Who died and made you the king of Sheba?”
Tom had never heard of Sheba and he smiled and nodded his head.
“What’s the matter, Tommy? You don’t look so good.”
Tom shrugged his shoulders. “I need to lose some weight. How do you stay so fit?”
Sam poked a finger into Tom’s belly and smiled. “I do two hundred sit-ups and five hundred pushups, every morning. Yeah, after they took our weights away from us, that’s all we could do to stay in shape. I used to run, but my knees are gettin’ too old for that.”
Tom tried to imagine doing two hundred sit-ups and he shook his head. “I could never do that,” he mumbled.
“Sure you could. Not right away, but if you keep at it, you’ll get there. I used to bunk with a big guy like you. He was actually much bigger than you. Great guy, everyone called him Hippo because he was so big. I think he was doing time for bad checks. Anyhow, I said to him, Hippo, I said, you’re going to drop dead of a heart attack if you don’t lose that fat gut of yours. He said it was none of my business, but I kept after him. We had a lot of time to kill, if you catch my drift. Anyhow, I got Hippo to start watching what he ate and to start working out. Oh, at first he hated it, but I kept after him. Well, pretty soon he starts dropping weight and he gets some muscle tone in his arms. That was all it took. Once he started seeing results, he was a changed man. By the time he got out of the joint, the guy looked like Charles Atlas.”
Tom rubbed his stomach and nodded his head. He had to start somewhere. “Did you hear from him after he got out?”
Sam sighed. “I heard he got shot in the face, not two weeks after he finished doing his time. The poor schmuck, I never said he was the brightest bulb on the tree.”
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Tom nodded. “That’s too bad. I was hoping that you’d say he got out and made something of his life.”
“Yeah, well he kind of did. Hippo made a big mess, all over the sidewalk.”
“Real funny.”
“I still got it,” said Sam, setting his cup next to Tom’s. “Hey, fill me up, will ya?”
Tom refilled their cups and the two men walked over to stand by the patio door. The orange sky was flecked with streaks of purple and the morning light shimmered on the bay. They stepped outside and stood into the cool air. A loon called from across the lake. Tom listened as Sam talked about his job and the men he worked with. Several times, Sam asked Tom to check his watch. He didn’t want to be late to work. Sam stood with his back to the patio door and Tom smiled when he spotted Shari making her way to the coffee pot. He couldn’t wait for Sam to see her, but he didn’t want him to wake up his mother. There was no way he was going to let her rain on their parade.
Holding her coffee cup, Shari stepped out to join the men. “Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning,” said Sam, turning to face her. He then quickly set his coffee cup down and held his hands in the air. “Holy shit!” he cried. “Shari, look at your face! Holy shit! Oh my God, you’re beautiful!”
Shari blushed and she set down her coffee cup. She and Sam exchanged a warm hug and tears streamed down the cheeks of the ex-con. He shook his head as he studied Shari’s face. “Thank you,” said Shari, “but you’ve got to stop crying. I don’t want to start again, I’ll have to go in and redo my makeup.”
Sam laughed at that and he rubbed his face with his large hands. “God is good,” he said, “ain’t He?”
“He sure is,” agreed Tom. “He sure is.”
From her window, Doris watched as both vehicles disappeared over the hill. For good measure, she waited at the window for another ten minutes. She was already dressed in a fresh pair of black nylon slacks and a matching black blouse, both new, their tags sitting on top of her waste basket. She wore yesterday’s sneakers, speckled with dried droplets of blood, which she wiped clean with a damp tissue. She had even taken the time to apply makeup and lipstick. This was going to be a big day and she wanted to look her best.
The Minnesota Candidate Page 8