“Asking?”
“Well, duh. That interview on television. It’s all everyone’s been talking about. Your movie star is the biggest thing in Pinecob since…for a long while.”
“He’s not my movie star,” I said.
I’d either been in the house or at work all week, or with Sandy, so I guess I hadn’t noticed. But I didn’t like the sound of what Max said. I asked him what people were looking to know. And why they were asking him.
“Everyone knows that Beau Ray and I go way back. So they ask. You know, what do I think is really going on.”
“And what do you tell them?” I looked hard at him. I didn’t want him to turn it into a joke. I needed him not to. This was my family, after all. And me. And he didn’t.
“I say I don’t know. I tell them I don’t know you well enough to hazard a guess about something like that, but that in my opinion, your family has gone through enough to have earned a little privacy.”
“You know me,” I told him.
“Not really,” Max said, like it was just another fact and not something he felt one way or another about.
I winced at that a little, on the inside, because it wasn’t as if he hadn’t had the opportunity, in such a small town. And there I was, able to recollect exactly how close I’d stood to Max and when. Able to recall entire conversations we’d had—what he’d said, what I’d said, what I’d been wearing, how his expression had changed with the topic. And after certain run-ins, I’d spent hours wringing out every bit of potential meaning, and then again with Sandy. I used to map out conversations with Max in advance, just in case—the hints I would drop, cute stories I would tell that showed me in a good light, sounding funny, sounding witty, sounding charming. But apparently he’d missed all of it. Like he claimed he could.
“Think I’m done,” I said, rolling my cart up to one of the check-out aisles. Isn’t there a point at which the mind should be able to surrender on behalf of the heart? Or check it in to an asylum, somewhere safe and locked, if the heart keeps refusing to see a landscape for what it is? Yet with some people in life, it seems you just can’t loose yourself, even when you should. “Thanks for walking with me,” I said.
“A pleasure as usual, Ms. Gitlin,” Max said. He pulled a box of cereal bars from my cart and put it on the conveyor belt. “So, what have you got going tonight?” he asked.
The cashier looked up like she hoped he was asking her, but Max was looking right at me. Right at me. I could see the cashier give me a once-over before going back to ringing my groceries. I hoped she wouldn’t overcharge me.
“Tonight? Nothing, I don’t think. Why?” I was really working to sound casual.
“Lionel’s renting Die Hard and Die Harder and we were all going to watch them over at his new house. You want to come?”
I considered it for about a second. Max Campbell was asking me out. Not on a date, but still. It was the flip side of oblivious.
“What time?” I asked, like it mattered, like I might have other options more pressing, like I wouldn’t automatically go anywhere Max asked me to go.
“We were going to order pizza in about an hour and start after that. I’m about to get off work. You want me to come by and pick you up? Or better, I could go with you now, and come back for my car later.” He glanced at the big Winn-Dixie clock over the row of check-out lanes, then back to me.
“Well, if you’re ready to go now. Whichever you want.” I figured the more time I could spend with him, the better, although I wouldn’t have minded the opportunity to wash my face and look a little nicer. But I got the distinct impression that Max wanted out of the Winn-Dixie then and there. So I waited in the car as he clocked out, and we drove back to Prospect Street.
As soon as I’d parked the car, Max got out and started pulling grocery bags from the back seat. I watched him and thought back to when he was sixteen and Winn-Dixie’s newest bag boy. Here he was, nearly twice his life later, still holding grocery bags. It figured he might be getting restless.
“So will I get to meet the mystery man?” Max asked, heading toward our front door. I felt a little ping in my stomach. Of course that was why he wanted to help with my groceries. He wanted to meet Joshua Reed. Why wouldn’t he? He’d said it himself—this was the biggest thing going in Pinecob.
“You can be sure he’s around,” I said.
Max followed me into the house.
“Beau Ray!” I called out. “Look who’s here.” No one answered.
Max and I put our bags on the kitchen table, and I walked through the dining room and into the backyard. Beau Ray and Joshua were sitting in the lounge chairs, playing cards.
“No,” Joshua was saying. “Remember? You need to get three of one number, or else three in a row of one suit, like all diamonds or all hearts, but in a row, you know, like eight, nine, ten.”
Beau Ray nodded.
“Hey there,” I said. “Beau Ray, look who’s here.”
Beau Ray looked up at Max. “Hey, Smax,” he said.
“Yo, Bobo,” Max said. That’s how they had greeted each other since the seventh grade.
“Max, this is Joshua. Joshua, Max. Max is an old family friend.”
“Nice to meet you,” Max said.
“Likewise,” Joshua said, lifting his head. “Call me Josh.” He looked back and forth, from Max to me.
“Max, you know how to play Gin?” Beau Ray asked. “Josh is teaching me Gin.”
“That’s a good game,” Max said.
“We’ll deal you in the next hand,” Joshua said.
“Sure, cool,” Max said.
“So what time are we supposed to be at Lionel’s?” I asked.
Max spun around and looked at me, and it seemed that he’d forgotten I was there until I spoke.
“If you still want to go,” I said.
“No, I do. I do,” he said.
“I need to get the rest of the groceries from the car,” I said, heading back into the house.
“I’ll help,” Max said.
“I’ll help,” Beau Ray said and stood up. The cards on his lap fell to the lawn. Ever since his accident, Beau Ray had liked putting the Sunday groceries away. In the economics course I’d taken at night school, my teacher called something like that a “positive externality.” A good thing, unexpected.
“I guess we’re not playing then,” Joshua said. He stood, too.
“Bobo,” Max said. “Lionel’s renting movies tonight. You want to come out and watch?”
Part of me dropped down a little. If Beau Ray came, I knew that Max and I wouldn’t be alone, not in the car, not ever. The other part of me knew that this was the same guy who had run into traffic after a dog—the generous side of him, and I’d always liked that side.
“I want to go!” Beau Ray said.
“Why don’t you guys watch them here?” Joshua said. “It would be cool to get to know some more people in town, and have a little company. That is, if it wouldn’t screw up your other plans.”
I stared at Joshua. He was so friendly to everyone but me.
“Here?” Max asked. “You sure you want to? It’s just a bunch of guys we went to high school with. I mean, if you’re cool with it, that’s cool.”
“I should probably call Judy, to ask,” I said. “She didn’t want—”
“Fuck that, Leanne,” Joshua said. “Sorry, but why can’t I watch a few movies with some of the guys? What’s the harm in that?”
I shrugged. Any hope of the night turning into a date with Max was already blown, so I didn’t see how having the guys over to my living room would matter much. I’d dated Lionel for a time anyway, the year before, and it had been a while since I’d seen him.
“If you think Lionel wouldn’t mind switching locations,” I said to Max. “I could order the pizza.”
Of course Lionel didn’t mind. Not when he heard that he’d be watching the Die Hard series with Joshua Reed, who had actually met Bruce Willis. And the other guys—Paulie and Scooter—didn
’t mind either.
“Hey, Leanne,” they all said, as they walked in with their beers and dug into the pizza I’d had delivered. Joshua and Beau Ray and I drank lemonade.
“So, Leanne,” Lionel said, later, when we were in the kitchen at the same time. “How freaky is it you’ve got Joshua Reed living here? Crazy cool though.”
“Just for ninety days,” I reminded him. “Or seventy-six, after today.”
“So he’s what, staying in Vince’s old room?”
I nodded.
“And you’re still in your old room?” Lionel asked.
“Nothing’s changed,” I told him.
“I like that room,” he said.
Lionel was tall and big at the same time, like a bear, and because of that, I’d always felt sort of dainty in his company. Maybe it was being the youngest of five that set me up to be taller than most girls. Vince used to say it was because I had more room to stretch from the outset, and my body had grown used to it, way back in Momma’s belly. My dad would always tell me that being a little above average was generally better than being a little below, but there were times—around my sister Susan and other petite types—when I felt more galumphing than girlish. Women are supposed to be strong, sure, but they’re also supposed to be delicate, like filigree made of steel. One of the reasons I’d first been drawn to Lionel was how his very size let me feel nearer to delicate.
He took a step toward me and I smiled. Lionel and I had more drifted apart than broken up. He’d wanted someone who could stay out all night, playing pool and drinking beer, and I’d always had to be home for one thing or another. But there was nothing wrong with him, and even less when he was right there in front of me, looking at me like he was remembering a song he liked the sound of.
“It does the job,” I said. “It’s a good room.”
“What is?” Max had wandered into the kitchen during my last sentence. He looked from me to Lionel.
“My bedroom,” I mumbled. “It’s nothing. We were just talking. Have you guys started the second movie yet?”
Lionel was still looking at me with that look of his, and I suddenly wished he wouldn’t.
“We just did. I was coming in to tell you,” Max said. “You done in here?”
“Sure,” I said, and Lionel and I followed him out of the kitchen.
In the living room, the guys were sprawled on our two couches. Joshua was in Dad’s old recliner, and Beau Ray lay on a floor cushion. I sat on the floor in front of the long couch. Lionel sat behind me, and at some point in the middle of the second movie, he started twirling his fingers through my hair. It would have felt good had we been alone, but there were five other guys in the room, and since Lionel and I weren’t a couple, it mostly felt like a possession thing.
By the time Die Hard 2 was over, the beer and pizza were long gone and Joshua was calling all of them “Man” and “Dude,” the way guys do when they’re familiar past first names. Lionel talked about coming over the following week with another movie rental. Scooter suggested that Joshua join their standing Tuesday night poker game, with Paulie pointing out that, of course they could relocate to our house.
“I’ll have to see about that,” Joshua said. He glanced over at me, because both of us knew that Tuesdays were AA nights.
“Tuesdays aren’t so good around here,” I said. “My mother…” I left it at that, and Scooter and Lionel nodded. Momma had a long-standing reputation for being strict about her house and what went on inside of it.
“That’s cool,” Paulie said. “Another time.”
I walked Lionel to the door, and he kissed me on the lips. Lightly, but still on the lips.
“Good to see you, little lady,” he said. “A right pleasure.”
“Yeah, you, too,” I said. “Drive safe, all of you.”
“Thanks, Leanne. Say hey to Sandy for me,” Scooter said as he was leaving. “Max, don’t you need a ride?” he asked.
“I’ll be right there,” Max said. He stood in the doorway like he didn’t know where he wanted to go. He looked at Joshua and Beau Ray, who were still lounging in the living room, poking at each other. He looked at the idling cars in the driveway, and waved to Scooter. He looked at me.
“Thanks for letting us locusts descend on your house,” he said.
“It was Joshua’s idea,” I reminded him.
“Yeah. Change in plans,” Max said. “Fun though. So I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Probably next Sunday,” I said. “Now at least you’ll have more to say, if anyone asks.”
“Oh, yeah,” Max said. “Nah.”
“Or stop by, if you want to. You know there’s always going to be someone here.” I motioned with my head to Joshua.
“Hey,” Joshua said. “I heard that.”
I looked over and saw that he was smiling. It was the first time he’d been anything on the positive side of blank to me. I smiled back. If he didn’t think these guys were hicks, I thought maybe he’d stopped thinking of me as one.
“I’d better go,” Max said, and I looked back at him.
Maybe he wasn’t so obviously handsome as Joshua, but to me, he was almost. And to watch him stand in front of me, looking straight at me, I could feel that crush of mine rising up again. I wished I could squash it. I thought about Charlene, the ex-wife. I wondered about the torch he carried. I wondered whether his Die Hard invite was more about me or about Joshua.
“So, thanks again for tonight,” I said.
“Sure.” Max turned and walked to Scooter’s car.
I closed the door.
“Leanne has a crush,” Joshua said in a singsong voice. Beau Ray sat up and looked toward the door.
“Shut up,” I said.
“Leanne and Lionel,” Beau Ray sang. Joshua looked at Beau Ray and then back at me, then shook his head and shrugged.
“I’m going to bed,” I told them, and started up the stairs. “Don’t forget to put all those bottles in the trash before Momma gets home, okay?”
“Sure, sure,” Joshua said, waving me off.
“You know who she’s out to dinner with,” I reminded him.
Joshua sat up straight. “Oh, fuck,” he said. “Shh, Beau Ray. I didn’t say that.” There were beer bottles everywhere, and though I hadn’t seen Joshua drink from one, Judge Weintraub would not likely have approved. “Hey, Bobo, help me get these into the garbage, okay? Will you please?”
Watching them start to straighten up, rushed but laughing, reminded me of having Vince back.
The next morning was one of those early summer mornings that gets hot early, a reminder that the real heat is about to start beating down. I don’t mind those days. I’m good in the heat, and I’ve always loved summertime evenings in West Virginia, after the sizzle of the day has broken, and the breezes drift through like the whole sky exhaling relief. At just six in the morning, you could tell we were in for a scorcher. I got up and walked out into the hallway. Joshua’s door was still closed. Momma’s door was still closed. I was starting to get used to the closed door routine.
I was almost at the bottom stair when I heard something in the kitchen. I figured it was Beau Ray, rooting around for some of the cereal bars I’d brought home the night before. But when I walked into the kitchen, the man I saw wasn’t Beau Ray and it wasn’t Joshua either. I must have yelped, because he turned around and jumped. He was in boxers and a T-shirt and black socks, and when he jumped, his feet slid on the wooden floor a little, so that he had to grab the counter to steady himself.
At that point, I wasn’t scared anymore. There’s only so scared you can be by a man in boxer shorts and black socks. Mostly, I was shocked. And surprised I hadn’t heard anything earlier on. And relieved, too.
“Leanne!” Judge Weintraub said.
I think I stuttered a little and tried to back out of the kitchen. I told him to finish whatever he was doing. I told him I’d give him some space.
“Leanne,” the judge said again. “Let me apologize. I was s
ure no one would be up yet. It’s so early.” He had a surprisingly dignified presence, given what he had on. “I wanted to make Lenore breakfast before I got going, but I can’t find where you keep anything. Can you lend me a hand? Hell, you’ve already seen me.”
I nodded. He was right, and I figured that was probably the most uncomfortable things were going to be. So long as Momma didn’t show up in the kitchen without a stitch.
“Coffee’s in that canister. Bread’s in that drawer,” I said, pointing. “What did you want to make?”
“How about coffee and toast?” he asked. He smiled. I’d always thought he had a nice smile.
“We’ve also got cereal bars,” I told him. “You spent the night?” It just came out. I didn’t know if that was a rude thing to ask, but he was in our kitchen and it was early.
“We got in late,” he said. “Your mother suggested…”
He didn’t finish, and he didn’t have to. As soon as I heard him start that sentence, I knew we’d made it somewhere new. Like the whole Gitlin clan of us had been climbing a mountain for years and didn’t realize we’d reached the top. Up, up, up, slog, slog, slog, until someone says, “hey, great view!” and you see that it’s time to stop trudging, at least for a little while. And even if it’s not a great view, you’re looking at something other than the path ahead. My eyes welled up and I plopped down in one of the kitchen chairs. Judge Weintraub hurried over and sat beside me.
“Leanne, I didn’t mean to upset you. I hope I didn’t scare you,” he said. But that wasn’t it.
Who would blame my mother for hunkering down after Dad died? There she was, forty years old and she’d had me to take care of—I was only fourteen—and Vince, who was sixteen, and Beau Ray, who was still finding his way to a new version of normal. And sure Tommy and Susan were out of the house by then, but you don’t stop being a mother and feeling partly responsible for your kids’ success or failure or happiness with an address change.
After Vince left, in the middle of the night with little more than some money and his class ring, Momma really started to clamp down. My curfews turned strict, as if everything bad in the world happened after eleven-thirty at night. My chore list filled up and my weekends clogged with housework and chaperoning Beau Ray. But that was good training, as it turned out, for when the deepest of Momma’s blues hit a few years later and I actually thought she might disappear into them.
Mean Season Page 10