by TJ Baer
“You camped out outside the bathroom?”
“I heard you humming.”
Crap, I hadn’t even noticed. “I was humming?”
“Mm. Something from Annie, I think?”
“Not my fault,” I said, finally stepping away from the bathroom door. “I’ve had kids shouting it at me all morning.”
“You mean...singing?”
“I mean shouting.”
He grinned. “Well, in that case, I’d say a break is in order, wouldn’t you?”
I took a deep breath and said a mental to hell with it. No more awkwardness, no more stressing out over this unrequited stuff—I’d just enjoy the time I spent with David and not think too much about it, and everything would be fine.
Ha. Sure it would.
“Lead the way,” I said.
Unfortunately, we’d only made it a few steps when my front pants pocket started buzzing. I jumped—because this is what one tends to do when there’s a sudden vibration in that general area—and eventually managed to wrestle my cell phone out and flip it open, giving David an apologetic look as I did so.
“Hello?”
I’d forgotten to check the caller ID before I put the thing up to my ear, so it was a genuine surprise to hear AJ’s voice on the other end. “Jess?”
I raised an eyebrow. “No, this is his secretary. What’s up? Aren’t you at work or something?”
AJ let out a breath that hissed through the receiver; I could hear a cacophony of male voices in the background, along with the occasional clatter of metal or...whatever it was that clattered at construction sites. “Dad just called me. He wants to talk to you.”
I glared at nothing in particular, dropping my voice a little and trying to sound somewhere near my age since David was still standing next to me. “Why didn’t he call me himself?”
“Gee, I don’t know, maybe because you keep dodging his calls?”
“I dodged one call. The other one, I was legitimately away from the phone—”
“Whatever. Just call him. I think it’s about Grandma.”
A little tremble of fear pulsed in my chest. “What about Grandma? She’s okay, right?”
“Yeah, no, nothing like that, just...I think he found out that we went over there this weekend.”
Crap. “He doesn’t know about the roof thing, does he?”
“I don’t know.” I heard another clatter, this one louder or closer to the phone. “Look, I gotta get back to work, but call him, okay? Or start paying me to be your answering service.”
“How much?”
“Just call him.”
“Fine, fine. Get back to work, you slacker. Watch out for falling objects.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly and hung up.
I snapped my phone shut, and only then remembered that David was still standing a few feet away, a slight look of concern on his face.
“Everything all right?”
“Um. Yeah. Just...my dad wants to talk to me about something.”
We started moving down the hallway again, falling into step beside each other while I wedged the cell phone back into my pocket.
“You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”
This was normally when there’d be a rational voice inside of me preventing me from spilling my familial troubles onto David. Said voice had apparently decided to take a brief holiday, however, because what came out of my mouth next was, “Yeah, well, I’m kind of not speaking to him right now.”
David gave me a curious glance and, thankfully, didn’t look as if he thought this phrase sounded like something a ten-year-old would say. Then again, the man spent most of his working hours in the company of five-year-olds, so possibly his perspective on the maturity front was a little skewed. “Why aren’t you speaking to him?”
“Long story.”
He just raised his eyebrows at me expectantly, and after a few seconds, I let out a breath and attempted to explain.
“He and my mom invited their minister over for dinner last week.”
David gave me an amused frown. “How dare they?”
“This was also, coincidentally, the same evening they’d invited me over, too.”
“I still feel like there’s some important detail I’m missing, here.”
“Two minutes after I got there, Mom and Dad vanished into the kitchen, and their minister spent the next twenty-five minutes talking to me about my…” I paused to do some exaggerated quotes in the air. “‘Lifestyle.’”
David drew in a hissing breath through his teeth and winced. “Ah.”
“Yeah. I was kinda pissed.”
“And now your dad wants to talk to you?”
“Apparently, yeah.”
“Maybe he wants to apologize?”
I gave a sharp laugh that made heads turn in the nearest classroom. “I don’t think so,” I said in a lower voice. “AJ thinks it’s something about Grandma. We’ll see, I guess. I promised I’d call him back tonight.”
“Speaking of tonight...”
These words, innocuous as they likely were, nevertheless made my heart rate speed up and my breath start coming faster. My steps slowed unconsciously as I looked over at him. “Yeah?”
“I was thinking about renting a movie and having a quiet night at home, but that sounds kind of pathetic, doesn’t it? So I was wondering if you’d like to join me.”
“Well, if it helps you to be less pathetic, I’ll be glad to do my part. What movie?”
“I hadn’t decided yet. Maybe we can pick one out together?”
“Sure,” I said, and couldn’t help smiling. “Sounds like fun. There will be food of some kind, I take it?”
“Whatever you’d like. My treat.”
“Careful,” I said, despite the sudden chorus of Danger, Will Robinson going on in my brain. “Keep buying me dinner and you’ll have a minister hunting you down before long.”
David glanced over at me, and I couldn’t tell if it was a good sign or not that he looked kind of amused at this potential slight to his heterosexuality. I mean, amused because it was so ridiculous, or amused because...it wasn’t so ridiculous?
“I’ll risk it,” he said, and then we went in through the double doors to the cafeteria and the noise hit us like a wave, making further conversation impossible for a while.
Which really was just fine with me.
*
I glanced up at the big, old-fashioned clock hanging over the TV. Fifteen minutes until I had to leave to meet David. I was dressed, I smelled nice, and I’d already loaded the dishwasher, organized my junk drawer, and cleaned out the scummy bottom of the vegetable crisper in my quest for Other More Important Things I Should Do Instead Of Calling My Father. There was nothing left to do now except pick up the phone and call him.
I leaned my head against the back of the couch, staring up at the soothing white plaster of the living room ceiling. I counted the ticks of the clock for a while, and somehow the phone did not spontaneously jump into my hand and dial itself.
Well, I could always call him tomorrow, right?
My pants started vibrating again, which naturally made me leap to my feet and dig the phone out of my front pocket. Distracting though it was, at least I never missed calls this way.
I glanced at the caller ID this time, and sure enough, it was Dad.
I stood there for a few seconds, listening to the tinny arrangement of the Doctor Who theme song tinkling from my phone, and thought about not answering. Then I sighed, flipped it open, and pressed it to my ear.
“Hi, Dad.”
There was a small pause, probably because Dad hadn’t really expected me to pick up either, then he let out a breath. “Still alive, then? I was wondering.”
“Yep, still alive.” I decided to at least begin the call civilly. “AJ said you wanted to talk to me?”
“I do.”
A silence stretched. I sighed and dropped back onto the couch, trying to think happy thoughts about tonight’s plans with David in
stead of the fact that my father was still, after twenty-four years, doing his best to jerk me around whenever possible.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” I asked finally.
This was the cue he’d been waiting for, apparently. “I understand that you and your brothers stopped by your grandmother’s house this weekend.”
“Yeah.”
“Jenny Peters across the street said she saw you, Thomas, and your grandmother out on the porch roof.”
Damn that woman. “Yeah, you know, we wanted some fresh air.”
“Jess, we’ve talked about your grandmother. Her mental health is declining, and this isn’t something for amateurs to meddle in.”
“So, what, we should’ve let her stay out there until the proper authorities arrived?”
“You should’ve called me, or at least told me about it afterward. I realize you’re dead set on ignoring your mother’s and my existence at the moment, but I’d think your grandmother’s health would override any childish need to punish us for only wanting what’s best for you.”
Oh, jeezy chreezy. “Look—”
“As it is, I’ve had to call in a lot of favors and spend a lot of money on a rush deposit, but I’ve managed to find a place where your grandmother can be made comfortable almost immediately.”
My hands started shaking, but I managed to keep my voice steady. “Is that...nice-talk for you’ve had her committed somewhere?”
“We’re not having her committed. We’re placing her somewhere where she can have her specific needs met, and where we won’t have to worry for her safety every time she’s left alone. Your mother’s been staying with her since we heard from Jenny, and we’re looking to move her into Waterford Retirement Community by the end of the week.”
My mouth was dry, and anger clenched in my chest, tight and hot. “What about her moving in with you and Mom? I thought that was the plan. You were going to give her two weeks, right?”
“That was before this roof incident. Frankly, I think she’s gone beyond our means to help her. She needs the help of professionals, people who can be with her twenty-four hours a day, and who know how to deal with her mental problems.”
“Grandma’s not crazy. She’s just lonely.”
“Lonely people don’t generally venture out onto their roofs,” Dad said with maddening, clinical calm. “Or try to call up the spirits of dead husbands for companionship.”
The words hit like a physical slap; I was still reeling from them when he continued, more softly. “Listen, Jess...I understand how you feel. I wish this wasn’t necessary, but even you have to see that there’s no other option. We’re not doing this to be cruel; we’re doing it because it’s what has to be done and what’s in your grandmother’s best interest.”
I took a deep breath and, despite feeling like three minutes on the phone had regressed me about ten years, struggled to sound like an adult. “Have you told her?”
“Your mother’s dropped some hints, but we haven’t told her outright, no. We’ll break the news to her gently, so there’ll be less chance of her causing a scene.”
Childishly, I hoped there would be a scene. “When exactly is she going?”
“Thursday morning.”
“I’ll be there.”
Dad’s tone got a bit cooler. “That won’t be necessary.”
“I don’t care if it’s necessary; I want to be there. I’m sure Thomas and AJ will, too.”
“Thomas has school, and I’m sure AJ will want to keep his commitments to his job.”
The subtle stress on AJ pissed me off, and I decided I’d had enough of being civil. “We’ll be there,” I said. “You want to commit Grandma, fine. I can’t stop you. But hell if you’re going to tell me that we can’t be there when you do it.”
“I’m telling you exactly that. But if you insist on being there, fine. Your brothers are another matter, though.”
“Fine, whatever,” I said since I’d already decided to bring them with me whether Dad approved or not. “Is that all you had to say?”
“For now, yes.”
“Fine,” I said, and hung up on him.
Immature, yet satisfying.
I stomped around the living room for a few minutes after that, fuming and muttering at nothing in particular. I didn’t think to look at the clock until a good while later, at which point it was already a few minutes past when I should’ve been out the door and on my way to David’s. I swore and grabbed my coat, and spent the car ride over there amassing dark storm clouds and listening to the Angry Goth station.
When David opened the front door, he took one look at my expression and raised his eyebrows. “Uh…is everything all right?”
“No.”
“Your dad?”
I gave a sarcastic smile and tapped my nose—ding-ding!—then realized what an asshole I was being and gave a heavy sigh. “Sorry. I usually try to avoid human contact for a while after talking to him. I’ll be better soon.”
He took a step back to let me into the apartment, and somehow this was the first time his appearance really registered with me. Thoughts of my father immediately began dribbling away, along with what remained of my brain. David looked nice. Like, first date nice. Freshly shaved, smelling like shampoo and a subtle cologne, and wearing a black turtleneck with a velvety blazer over it, coupled with some nicely snug blue jeans that gave him just the right balance of formal and casual. He looked like the after-shot of a Queer Eye for the Straight Guy episode.
“Wow,” I couldn’t help saying. “You look, um...” I shook my head, unable to think of any descriptions that didn’t involve the word “hot” in some way. “Am I underdressed?”
He grinned at me, a little hint of color in his cheeks. “You’re fine,” he said with a glance at my ensemble, which this evening was composed of an unzipped sweatshirt, black T-shirt, and blue jeans with ragged holes at the knees. “I was just wondering if maybe you felt like going out for dinner instead of ordering in.”
Uh. “Sure, um...where’d you have in mind?”
His grin increased its wattage a bit. “This little Asian restaurant downtown. You like Asian food, right?”
“Are you kidding? I’d marry it if that kind of thing were legal.”
“So, you’re up for it, then?”
Hmm, difficult decision. Eating my favorite kind of food with a gorgeous man who would subsequently be picking up the check... “I think I could be persuaded, yeah,” I said. “Want me to drive?”
“It’s right by the train station, actually. So unless you really want to hunt for parking downtown, I’d say we can probably just take the train.”
“I think I’m good on fender benders for the time being. Train it is.”
He brushed past me to open the front door, holding it open all gallantly for me to walk through. I gave an uncertain smile and went back out onto the porch, not sure how I felt about any of this but deciding that I liked it enough to go with it for the time being.
We walked side by side down David’s quiet residential street, and once again, I was surprised at how it actually was quiet despite there being a major intersection less than two blocks away. The only sounds were our shoes scuffing along on the sidewalk and the muffled sound of a TV from inside one of the nearby houses. It was only six o’clock, but we were close enough to winter for it to be dark already—the sky was black and impossibly huge above us, dotted with stars and the occasional long, slender wisp of a cloud. It was one of those dark, clear nights that made me feel small but also somehow kind of cozy, and the air was my favorite kind of crisp, with the sweet, damp scent of fallen leaves seeping through the crispness. I drew in a long, savoring breath and let it out slowly.
And realized only after I had that David was watching me, a little half-smile on his face.
I coughed and looked away, embarrassed for some reason that he’d caught me doing my whole shameless enjoyment of nature thing. And maybe still feeling a little strange about the whole evening in g
eneral, which I had to admit had some rather suspicious date-like qualities.
“So,” I ventured into the silence, “how’s, um...how’s work?”
David looked amused but answered seriously anyway. “It’s good. Some of the quieter kids are starting to open up, finally, which is always great to see. I think everybody’s making a lot of progress in the right direction, and it just seems like a really good group this year. You?”
Crap. My own dismal small talk turned back on me. “Uh...you know, same old, same old. Kids, songs, bad coffee. The glamorous life of a music teacher.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
I blinked and missed a step. “The coffee?”
“The work. You never did tell me what made you decide to go into teaching.”
“Oh. It’s not really a big story or anything. I’ve always liked singing, and kids seem a lot less irritating to me than most adults do, so it seemed to fit.” I paused, thinking about it, and added with a shrug, “Plus, music class was the only class in school that I ever really looked forward to, so I don’t know, I guess it just seemed like the right direction to go.”
“Yeah, I never really liked much to do with school when I was a kid,” David said with a grimace. “I mean, I liked learning new things. I always liked that. But tests always killed me. I was making C’s and D’s during most of elementary school.”
I stared at him, because despite the fact that his teaching repertoire never got much more complicated than one plus two equals three, David still had to be one of the most intelligent people I’d ever met. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. A lot of it was test anxiety. I managed to get over it after I got into high school, but for a long time, I really wasn’t doing very well. My parents—”
He stopped himself abruptly; it was like a lid suddenly snapped shut over whatever he’d been about to say.
“Well,” he concluded after a beat, “let’s just say I wasn’t exactly considered the brightest kid in my family.”
There was a forced lightness to the words that made me suddenly, irrationally furious with David’s parents, who I had of course never actually met. Instead of digging deeper into the vault of traumatic childhood memories, though, I said, “How’d you end up becoming a teacher, then? If school was so tough for you, I mean.”