by Harry Mazer
‘So you’re all set –’ He leaned toward the door.
‘Wait, Jeff.’ He thought she was going to offer to pay him. Instinctively he put his hands up. ‘What’s the matter?’ she said. ‘I just want to tell you, you saved my life today. And you helped me the other day. I don’t know how to thank you.’
He sat down on the edge of the bed.
She walked around, moving her arms. ‘That aspirin must be taking effect,’ she said. ‘I really feel better. Last night I was in so much pain I almost called my mother.’ She sat down next to him and they talked in low tones.
‘You had that toothache since last night?’
‘I don’t know how I got through the night.’ She started rummaging through an open box. ‘You don’t want to hear about that.’
‘Is that your mother?’ He pointed to a framed colour photo of a heavyset woman standing in front of a palm tree.
‘Yes.’ Mary handed him the picture and took another one from the box. ‘And here’s my father.’
‘They’re in Florida?’
She touched the edge of her mouth. ‘I’m so glad I didn’t call them. They worry too much about me and Hannah, anyway.’
There were more pictures in the box. ‘Who’s that?’ he said, pointing to a photo of a girl in front of a brick building. She wore jeans and a sweatshirt and held an armful of books. A little beanie was perched on her head.
‘This?’ She looked at the photo. ‘You don’t recognize me? That’s me in college. Have I changed that much? It seems like a million years ago.’
In the picture, she was smiling, a big, carefree smile.
She showed him some more pictures. ‘That’s my roommate. What a boozer she was. And that was my best friend … this was the drama club …’
‘Who’s that?’ He pointed to a tall, handsome guy with a tennis racket under one arm and his other arm around Mary.
‘Oh, him. No one.’
He tried to take a closer look, but she put the pictures away. ‘I don’t know why I save that junk. School! Imagine – my biggest worry then was passing my courses. It was such a free, privileged life. You’ve got it now, Jeff.’
‘Me!’ He didn’t think of himself that way. Well … he was free. But privileged?
‘You can do anything you want to with your life. Go anywhere. Try anything. You don’t know how free you are.’
‘Sometimes you can have too much freedom. I’d be glad if someone told me what to do.’ But he knew he didn’t mean it. ‘In some ways, my parents had it easier at my age. My father went into the military when he got out of high school and then college. That’s what everybody did. College or work. You didn’t have to figure things out. You went one way or you went the other.’
‘I still think it’s better today,’ she said. ‘It’s harder because you’ve got to think more, but it’s better because you’ve got a choice. Even me. I made a choice. I didn’t have to have Hannah.’
As she spoke, he kept looking at her. Her voice was low and intimate.
Hannah cried out, and Mary rocked the crib. Then, in a whisper, ‘I think about my father’s life a lot. He came out of Hitler’s concentration camps, you know.’
Jeff crossed his legs, knocking against her leg. She moved slightly. ‘I heard your father speak once. It was really interesting.’
‘He rarely talks about it … He’s a sick man, now. His heart. That’s why I can’t live at home. Too upsetting for him. After they moved to Florida, I lived with my aunt in Rochester for a while.’ She gave a short explosive laugh, then looked over at Hannah. ‘But that was too upsetting for me.’ She lowered her voice. ‘My aunt Alice.’ She shook her head. ‘She wanted me to go back to school and she was going to take care of Hannah. Take over is what she meant. I don’t want anyone else bringing up my baby. I notice that since I’ve had Hannah, the whole world thinks it has a licence to give me advice and comment on my life. Anyway … here I am.’
He nodded sympathetically. He was sympathetic, he was listening, but he was also thinking about the guy in the picture. Was that Hannah’s father? Did she still love him? She must have loved him once.
‘Are you sorry?’ he said.
‘About Hannah?’
‘No, that sounds stupid. Cut. Leave that footage on the floor. Sorry I said it.’
‘Not that stupid. I am sorry sometimes.’ She looked over at Hannah. ‘Not about her, but the life …’ She sighed. ‘I admired myself in the beginning. I thought I was a heroine. Joan of the Babies. I was going to do everything – go to school, become an actress, be the world’s best mother.’
‘From what I’ve seen, you are a good mother.’
She smiled slightly. ‘I’m okay. I have my good days. I’m not as brave as I thought I was, or as smart. All I know is, every day I wake up and it’s always the same now.’ She fell silent, rubbing her lips. ‘My mouth is still a little numb … Sometimes when I think of what I was going to do … Nobody wanted me to have Hannah. Not even me, at first. That’s hard to say now. But she wasn’t real to me. Then I decided, I’m going to have her and I’m going to keep her. I don’t know why I decided that, except she was there, waiting.’
She looked down at Hannah, who was sleeping with her mouth ajar. ‘I don’t know why I’m talking so much.’
He straightened up. ‘Do I look bored?’ Already, in his mind, it was the two of them against the world. The world thought she’d made a mistake. The world thought she wasn’t a good mother. But he knew differently. She was alone. She was small. When he thought about how much bigger he was than she, it gave him a very tender feeling. He would put a fence between the two of them and the world. He would be her defender. Thinking this, it seemed as if his own life took on meaning. It grew and expanded. There was a purpose to everything. Now he knew why he was here and not in California.
His thought came tumbling in on him, exciting him. And her nearness excited him, the flesh of her upper arm, the smell of her hair. And her closeness – so close – did he dare? They were just beginning, everything was so new, so tentative, so fragile – the wrong word, the wrong look could ruin everything.
Hannah woke up with a cry. Mary took the baby on the bed to change her, then reached across Jeff for the box of nappies. Her outstretched arm, her five fingers, the plump wrist – all seemed to hang there, to speak to him. Nibble me, they said. Crazy thought.
He knew what he wanted, but what about her? Everything she did meant something for him, had a hidden meaning. He leaned over her arm, the investigator, a reader of hidden signs and signals, a quivering detective of the heart, a Sherlock Holmes of passion.
‘Diaper,’ she said.
He handed it over.
‘That little squirrel shirt.’
He gave her that.
She put the shirt on Hannah. ‘You are a friend,’ she said.
What could he do but agree?
13
He went over to the Belcos’ often. Very often. She never called him. What was he supposed to do, wait till she had another toothache? She was so casual with him. When he was there, he was there. ‘Oh, hi,’ she’d say, like there you are and so what? Did she want him to make the first move? That had already gotten him into trouble. He was so full of heat and she was so cool …
Did she think he was deprived, that he hung around her because – poor guy doesn’t know any other girls. Maybe he had to send her another message. Stay away for a while, then come walking up the street with a few women he knew. Jeff and a few of his close friends – Jill, Robin, Ginny, Rebecca … There were so many girls dying to go out with him, he scheduled them in small, manageable groups, A to D on Monday, E to H on Tuesday, and so on.
Fade in: Mary at the window, watching Jeff … Close on Mary’s fingers clutching the curtain … Great scene, but the jealous one was him. Who was he jealous of? Danny, his best friend. How was that for craziness? But weren’t they in that house together when he wasn’t there? Every morning? Every night? All through the night?
One afternoon he arrived and found the two of them in the living room, she cozily perched on the arm of Danny’s chair. For all he knew they’d been all over each other a second before he appeared. Mary was barefoot, wearing only shorts and a shirt, her hair loose like she’d just got out of the shower. She doesn’t have a bra on, he thought. Bang! It felt like somebody had socked him in the stomach. ‘Oh, hi,’ she said, and turned back to Danny.
‘Just write something, Danny,’ she said. ‘Get started on that comp.’
Danny looked down at the notebook at his feet. ‘I can’t write five hundred words about my goals. I can’t get more than five words on that. Who’s thinking about ten years?’
‘You must have some long-range plans,’ Mary said. ‘Hannah doesn’t, the cat doesn’t, but you – you must have some plans.’
‘The army. We might have a war. I might be dead.’
‘Come on,’ Mary said, leaning over him. ‘Don’t be so negative. Write something. You only have to start. Think about all the things you’d like to have. Dream a little.’
Dream! Jeff knew just what Danny was dreaming about the way he was hunched over Mary’s bare legs. Jeff walked out to clear his head. When he came back, Mary was in the kitchen warming up Hannah’s bottle. ‘Oh, hi,’ she said, again. ‘Danny’s in the living room.’ Then she went upstairs.
Maybe she thought he came to see Danny, but everyone else knew why he was there. Mrs. Belco had been giving him the evil eye for days. One afternoon she stopped him on the way in and asked him to walk her to the car.
‘I’m worried about you, Jeff. You know what I’m talking about?’
‘College?’
‘Don’t be so dumb. That girl has problems. Big problems. Alone with a baby. There’s a something missing in her life and it’s wearing pants. And then you walk in. You’re a good-hearted kid, but just remember you’re not responsible for the world. Let her figure out her own life. Show her you’re interested and she’ll grab on to you like glue.’
He wouldn’t have minded if Mary had stuck to him a little, but Mrs. Belco was wrong. Mary wasn’t the clinging sort.
Friday night was Sadie’s busiest time. Families came in for Sadie’s famous fish dinners. The smell of deep fries filled the restaurant, and Jeff sent rack after rack of dishes through the machine. He didn’t begin to catch up till after nine-thirty. At ten o’clock he started pulling the machine apart and cleaning the pipes. ‘Hey, chef?’ Danny said, looking in. ‘I found a cockroach in my clam chowder.’
‘No extra charge.’
‘Come on out here. I want you to meet somebody.’
Jeff followed him into the restaurant. Tracy and another girl were sitting at one of the front booths.
‘This is my cousin, Dawn,’ Tracy said.
‘Hi.’ Dawn waved her hand. She had a long narrow face and was wearing the same bright red lipstick as Tracy and the same blue eyeshadow. Even their fingernails were alike.
Danny walked Jeff back to the kitchen. ‘You like Dawn?’ He slapped him on the ass. ‘Get a move on. We’re all going to the Red Barn.’
Jeff picked up a rack of cups and stacked them on the shelf.
‘What are you doing?’ Danny said.
‘I’m working.’
‘You’re not chained to that machine.’ Danny gave him a winning smile. ‘What am I going to do with two of them? Anyway, I promised Tracy I’d get you. She wants her cousin to have a good time. Are you going to ask Sadie or do I do it?’
‘She’ll throw you out on your butt.’ He was mopping when Danny came back.
‘It’s all set,’ Danny said. ‘Just clean up.’
‘You’re kidding.’
Danny smiled into his moustache. ‘You have to know how to talk to older women. And that takes an experienced, mature man.’
‘That describes you?’ Jeff finished in a hurry. He wasn’t one to turn down a good time.
The four of them crowded into the front of Danny’s truck. That warmed things up right away.
‘Tight squeeze,’ Dawn said, breathing on him. She smelled minty.
‘My big feet.’
She straightened herself out. ‘My legs.’
Her legs were what he couldn’t take his eyes off. They were resting against his. Everytime she moved, more of her came in contact with Jeff. They didn’t have to meet. They’d met. He had the window open and his arm out, but he was burning. Full body contact. He wasn’t complaining.
She sniffed. ‘I smell fries.’
‘That’s me, it gets right in my hair.’ He stuck his head out the window. ‘I smell like the kitchen. I should have gone home and showered.’
‘No, I like it. It makes me hungry.’ Her earrings brushed against his cheek. He stuck out his tongue and licked her ear. She shrieked.
‘Is he being bad?’ Tracy said. ‘Jeff, I told her you’d be good.’
The parking lot at the Red Barn was packed. Dawn leaned on Jeff’s arm. Was she one of those women who liked to hang onto a man? The comparison to Mary was unavoidable.
Inside they sat at the bar, waiting for a table. Vet, who lived upstairs at the Belcos’, was at the bar dressed in running shorts and a sleeveless tight black shirt. He promised to come by and see them later.
It was midnight before they were seated. Jeff was hungry, and they ordered a double pizza with everything. Danny ordered a pitcher of beer. By the second pitcher, they all started getting happy. Tracy cuddled up with Danny, who kept winking at Jeff.
‘Want to dance?’ Jeff asked. On the floor, Dawn closed her eyes. They danced close. Their legs kept touching and she was hanging on him really hard. Even after the music stopped, they kept dancing. When they went back to the table, Tracy and Danny were gone. ‘I like you, Jeff,’ Dawn said. ‘Tracy told me I would.’ They sat there and kissed until Tracy and Danny came back.
‘Oh, great,’ Tracy said, smiling. ‘Leave you two for a second. I told you he was a smoothie.’
Jeff slid his glass through the wet places. He should have felt happier than he did.
Vet stopped by their table, rubbing Danny’s back. ‘Introduce me to the ladies.’ He sat down next to Dawn. ‘Let me see your fingernails,’ he said taking her hand. ‘Wild. You two girls look like sisters. Don’t they look like sisters, Danny? If there’s anything prettier than one pretty lady, it’s two pretty ladies.’
Dawn was like a cat lapping up Vet’s compliments. Smiling and laughing at everything he said. Jeff felt like the fifth wheel and got up and took a walk. It wasn’t a smart thing to do. Not if he wanted to hold onto Dawn. At every table, people were singing and yelling. He walked out into the parking lot to clear his head and his lungs and his ears – and his brain, too. He was thinking about Mary again, Mary alone in the house. Would she have come to the Red Barn if he’d asked her? The five of them? With Vet joining the party, it would have been six. Dawn and Vet. Him and Mary.
He caught a ride back to the city with a guy on his way home from work. ‘I work nights, too,’ Jeff said. The man dropped Jeff at the corner of Spring Street, a long walk home, but a short block to the Belcos’. It was really late, too late for anyone to be up. He was just going to pass the house and keep going.
There was a light on in the hall, but the rest of the house was dark. He heard something, the porch swing creaking. Mary was sitting there, slowly rocking Hannah in her lap. A dark Madonna, her hair down around her shoulders and flowing into the darkness. Her being here at this hour was magical, as if she’d known he’d be coming and was waiting for him.
He leaned on the step. ‘Hello,’ he said softly. ‘What are you doing up so late?’
‘The room is so hot.’
‘It’s cool here.’
‘Perfect.’
He sat down. He was tired.
‘Are you coming from work?’
‘Well, sort of …’ Yeah, he thought, you go out, you get smashed, you do stupid things, you start kissing Tracy’s cousin.
They sat there for a
long time. There were long silences. Once she reached down and touched his hair. ‘Sleeping?’ She talked on and off, and he listened, sitting on the steps with his head on his knees. She talked about her family a lot. Some of it was interesting. Mostly, though, it was boring, things he’d heard before.
He fell asleep a couple of times, just dropped off for a moment. He was thinking about that guy again, the one in the picture she’d shown him, the guy with the tennis racket. Good looking, with a high opinion of himself, used to getting everything he wanted. Smooth, easy, with a lot of glitter and a mile-long line of chatter, the kind of guy who could talk a girl into bed …
It was nearly morning before he left. It was cool, and the grass was wet. What he remembered before he dropped off to sleep was her stroking his head. It had been so natural, so kind, so easy. He had kept his eyes closed. It had only been a moment. He remembered it and then he slept.
14
‘What are you doing?’ Mary said over the phone. It was late one morning. He had been doing a bit of developing in the cellar when the phone rang. ‘Are you coming over?’
‘Do you want me to?’
‘That’s why I called you.’
‘I’ll be right there.’
All the way over, he tried to figure it out. No crisis, it wasn’t raining, and she didn’t have a toothache. All he could think was that he hadn’t been to the Belcos’ for a couple of days, but when had that bothered her before?
She and Hannah were waiting for him in front of the house. ‘Are you up for a walk?’ she said. ‘That’s really what I want to do.’
‘It’s fine with me. What’s the problem?’
‘No problem.’
‘You mean you just called me? Maybe you don’t know this, but this is an historic moment.’
‘It is?’
‘Mary called Jeff.’
‘Didn’t I ever call you before? Sure, I called you.’
‘When you had a toothache. That doesn’t count. How come you called today?’
‘Would you believe – I missed you? It’s dull around here without you. Have you been busy?’