Saving Toby

by Suzanne McKenna Link

  “Not me, man. I told you I’m not interested in repeating that stuff. Besides, I can’t get wrecked, not while Julia’s sick.” The smoke wafting around the room was already creeping into my mind. “But we can still get out of here for a while.”

  “Ye-yeah, let’s go to Murphy’s. They have the Yankee-Red Sox p-pre-season game on the big screen. And free wings during the g-game,” Ray said.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you unless you freaking put on a clean pair of pants and brush your teeth,” I snapped.

  “Shut the hell up, Faye,” he grumbled, but he disappeared and came back with different pants on.

  Dev offered to drive. There was no question I’d be up front with Dev, which put Ray in the back seat of the fully refurbished black Cutlass.

  As I climbed in, my shoe caught on a large canvas bag on the floor of the passenger seat.

  “Just throw that in the back,” Dev said.

  “What is it?” I lifted the bag, intending to hand it to Ray, but then I saw envelopes inside. “Working for the post office?”

  “Yeah, undercover,” Dev laughed. He turned the key, and the engine roared to life. “It’s from my job. You know, looking for cashable checks. I hit a good bag last week, but I can’t take anymore after this one. They’ll get suspicious.”

  “Glad to see you raised your crime standards from petty to federal,” I said, needling him.

  “God, what the hell is up with you, Faye? Stop getting all over me. You ain’t so fucking clean either.”

  “You know man, I don’t do crap like this anymore.” I shook the bag. “And I’m not cool driving around with it. Either you leave it at Ray’s or I’ll take my Jeep.”

  Dev looked at me and shook his head. He twisted around to look behind him. “Ray, throw that bag in the house, will you?” He looked back at me as Ray grabbed the bag and hopped out.

  “You sold out.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Working a legit job is selling out?”

  “Yeah. Come on, not getting high, and working that nine to five every day? Bet you’re breaking your fucking back. And for what? How much is old Abe paying you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s a job,” I ground out, not wanting to talk about the crappy money I was making. “As soon as Julia’s in remission, I’m outta here.”

  5. Claudia

  It was easy to work with Mrs. Faye. Within the first week, I became familiar with her preferences and how orderly she liked to keep the house, right down to the medication bottles lined up neatly on a tray at her bedside. There was very little accumulation of items in any room of the house, so I was careful to put everything I used away.

  I spent most of my time cooking, cleaning, and checking in on Mrs. Faye. I saw very little of Toby. Most times we would say a quick hello before he went out, and each night before I left I would bring him up-to-date on anything that happened during my shift.

  It was the end of the night, just before he came home that I liked best. It was then I could sit with Mrs. Faye and talk. I liked to listen as she told me about what was happening in the lives of her church friends. Her insight and clarity intrigued me, so much so that when she started to ask me personal questions, I felt comfortable opening up to her. It was easy to talk to her, and she took an interest in what I had to say.

  On Friday of my third week, I had to leave my car at the mechanic shop overnight. I was not happy about the inconvenience, but I didn’t have classes. Dad drove me to the Fayes’ that night. I intended to walk home later.

  “I heard your mother moved back to California. What’s she up to these days?” Mrs. Faye asked, as we were finishing up that night. Propped up in her bed, she looked older than her fifty-three years.

  “She’s a real estate agent in San Diego,” I said, handing her the evening’s medications and a glass of ginger ale to settle her stomach.

  “That must be difficult having her so far away.”

  I shrugged. “Sure, but my parents can’t be around each other. They just fight. But, I see my mother as much as I can. She’s always trying to get me to come out there. So I decided to transfer to school out by her in the fall.”

  “You’re going away?”

  “Hopefully,” I said. “I’m crossing my fingers and my toes that everything goes through. And that my dad goes along with it.”

  “He doesn’t approve?” Her eyebrows arched over her bright blue eyes as she questioned me.

  “Dad’s so old-fashioned. He’d much rather I settle down and pop out a brood of kids. But kids and a husband? Not me, not yet.” I made quick work of folding a blanket at the foot of the bed. “I don’t want his conventional life. I like school. And USC is amazing. I visited last time I was in California. That’s when I decided I was going to make it happen.”

  She patted my hand. “I love that you’re following your dream. That kind of enthusiasm is contagious.”

  I assisted in turning her onto her side and tucked the sheet and blanket over her. “It means I’ll be gone for most of the year, but I’ll try to come visit.”

  “Please do. It’ll be wonderful to hear all about it,” she told me, then smiled. “I never went to college. Maybe I can experience it through you.”

  “Sure,” I agreed. It pleased me to think I’d made a life-long friend in Mrs. Faye.

  Just then, the front door creaked, announcing Toby’s arrival and the end of my shift. With Mrs. Faye settled, I wished her a goodnight and went downstairs to leave.

  Toby was rummaging through the refrigerator and came out with three beers. “Hey,” he said. “Stay for a beer?”

  “Thanks, no,” I replied. “Your mother is all set for the night. See you Wednesday.”

  He nodded, and I headed out the door.

  It was a nice night, and I didn’t mind that I had to walk. When I stepped outside, two guys were leaning against Toby’s red Jeep Wrangler. I recognized his friend, Devlin, from the other night. The second guy was smaller and raggedy-looking, with messy, dark brown hair. They both stared at me as I started down the steps.

  Devlin pushed off the car, coming forward. “Hey, beautiful.”

  His hulking size and overfriendly smile was intimidating, but I forced myself to walk past them rather than run.

  “Hello.” I acknowledged him to be polite.

  “Have a beer with us?” Devlin asked as Toby came out onto the front steps behind me.

  “No, thanks.” I kept walking even though the smaller guy stepped towards me.

  I caught a glimpse of overlapping front teeth as he grinned, but I was unprepared when he slithered his hand over my backside.

  “Na-na-nice ass,” he stuttered.

  Shocked, I turned and whacked his hand. He yowled as I stepped forward and jabbed a finger at him. “Ever touch me again and you’ll lose that hand.”

  Despite my boiling anger, a cold sweat dampened my armpits and crept down my back. The guy raised his hands in mock surrender and backed away. Devlin and Toby rolled with fits of laughter. I eyed the three of them, my glare sharpening on Toby. Feeling betrayed, I started running down the block. I ran until I rounded the first corner, out of their sight, before I slowed down.

  A few moments later, though, I heard running footsteps coming from behind me.

  “Claudia!” Toby called. “Wait up.”

  I walked faster. “Asshole,” I hissed under my breath.

  It was only seconds before he’d caught up and kept pace with me.

  “Hey,” he said slightly winded. “Are you okay?”

  “Perfect. I’m always glad to provide amusement for a couple of rowdy jerks,” I growled, and kept walking. “I’ll be back again next week, and we can really yuck it up.”

  “‘Yuck it up?’” A dubious smile flitted across his face.

  I whirled around to face him. “Shut up!” I was furious that he’d somehow made me feel self-conscious. “Did you follow me just to make fun of me?”

  “No.” He backed up a step and put
his hands in his pockets. “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and that I shouldn’t have laughed.”

  I bit my tongue and turned away from him, stomping on.

  He began walking also, continuing his lame apology. “Ray’s a bonehead. Neither of those guys knows how to behave around a beautiful girl like you.”

  “Your friend harassed me, and you laughed.” Clenching my fists, I kept my head down and refused to look at him. “Don’t try to flatter me now. Go away and leave me alone!”

  Without warning, he took a large step and positioned himself in front of me. I almost crashed into him. Stopping abruptly, I snapped, “What are you doing?”

  He tilted his head to look into my eyes. “Hey. I mean it, I’m sorry.” He had the decency to look ashamed. “It will never happen again, okay?”

  “Oh, it won’t because I’ll … ”

  He put a tentative hand on my shoulder, his expression serious. “If anyone even thinks about touching you again, I will kick their ass up and down the street.”

  “Great. That’s very comforting,” I couldn’t hide my sarcasm. “Now get out of my way. I want to go home.” Thankfully, he stepped aside.

  “Where’s your car?” he asked, falling into step with me again.

  I sighed and mumbled, “Auto shop.”

  “I would have given you a ride.”

  I stopped and faced him. “Listen, I’m all right. I don’t need a ride. I can get home just fine all by myself. Go home. I feel safer without you.”

  “Ouch. That hurts,” he said, and although he claimed to be injured, a little smile tweaked the corners of his mouth. “Come on, I feel bad about what happened. Let me walk you home. If it makes you feel better, I can walk behind you, like a shadow. You won’t even have to look at me.”

  Sighing again, I put a hand over my face, and, despite it all, I started to laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “But I’m cute, aren’t I?” He cocked his head to one side and grinned.

  I shook my head at his arrogance. I was too tired to fight any more. I let him walk me home.

  6. Claudia

  On Monday, after two long lab sessions, I had just enough time to make myself a quick sandwich before heading over to the Fayes’ house for work.

  I was glad when Mrs. Faye told me that Toby was running some errands and I wouldn’t see him until later. He had done his best to make amends on the walk home, but I had mixed feelings about our interaction after that last unpleasant night.

  I had to coax Mrs. Faye to eat. She managed a little, and when she couldn’t eat anymore, I straightened up her bedroom while she flipped on the TV.

  “Wow, a new television,” I said, admiring the small, sleek flat-screen set attached to the wall on the other side of her bedroom.

  “Toby says everything in this house is so old and tired. I guess he’s right. I haven’t had any interest in improving things around here for a long time. Too long,” she admitted with a sigh. “Toby got the TV at work. Said Mr. Bernbaum gave him a decent employee discount.”

  Everyone knew AB’s. The store had been around forever. I was surprised Mr. Bernbaum had hired Toby. I’d heard he was very selective about employees. I dusted her dresser, mildly interested.

  “How long has he been working there?”

  “He’s only been home about a month—since he found out I was sick,” she said, lowering the volume. “He’s been in Florida for the last year and a half.”

  “What was he doing for work while he was there?”

  “Let’s see,” she put her hand up and began ticking off a list. “First, there was building houses, then landscape work, and then pool installations,” she sighed. “He hasn’t quite found his niche yet. And now he’s talking about the military.”

  “He’s going to enlist?” Boot camp would be perfect for an aimless guy like him.

  Mrs. Faye raised her thin shoulders in a shrug. “He hasn’t mentioned it since I told him about the re-diagnosis, and honestly, I’m glad.”

  “Re-diagnosis? You’ve had this before?”

  “I’ve been in remission for a few years. But these things happen. It’s just a setback. I’ll be fine.” She waved her hand in nonchalance. “I didn’t even want to ask Toby to come home.”

  “You shouldn’t have had to ask,” I blustered.

  “I didn’t. He came home on his own.”

  Embarrassed by my gaffe, I murmured. “That’s good.”

  “Yes, it is. But though I’d like him to stay, he won’t. Being here only seems to make him restless. Too many bad memories, I suppose.”

  “You mean Mr. Faye’s death?”

  “Mostly. Despite what everyone seems to think about my husband, he loved his boys but the relationship between him and my oldest son, Al Junior, was terribly strained.” Mrs. Faye fingered the remote distractedly. “Al Junior was such a handful when he was little. Sitting still was a difficult concept. We never had him tested, but looking back, I’m sure he had one of those attention disorders. To make matters worse, I was anemic when I was pregnant with Toby. I didn’t have the energy to deal with a busy toddler. My husband didn’t tolerate misbehavior. He was tough on our oldest, but it was because that’s all he knew. His own father was a stiff physical disciplinarian. Toby was a much easier child, such an easy disposition.”

  She smiled when she spoke of him. “He and his father had a less complicated relationship. But you can’t treat your children so differently without them noticing. It makes siblings angry and resentful towards each other.”

  “Do the boys not get along?” I forgot about cleaning, giving her my full attention.

  “No, not really.” She shook her head. “When my husband died,” she stopped and tightened her mouth. “Well, when my husband died, things got bad. I let so many things slide. The boys fought. A lot.”

  I’d never really thought about what Toby was going through back when I knew him in school, but now his quiet moodiness made sense.

  “Al Junior has been doing a great deal of reflecting since he was sent away, and I can see he’s changing. It’s my hope that one day my boys will get along, but there’s a lot to do to get them there. That’s why I refuse to let this cancer defeat me. I have work to finish.” For the first time, Mrs. Faye’s voice was strong, firm. “Toby is a much gentler and more compassionate soul than his brother, but he holds onto that bitterness like a hungry dog with a big, meaty bone.”

  The Toby I had been around for the last few weeks appeared quite comfortable in his skin, smug with confidence. Not in the least like the bitter person his mother was describing.

  “With all that Toby’s been through, I would’ve understood if he hadn’t come home, but he did, so that means there is hope.” She sniffled and blotted her nose with a tissue. “But I know the moment I’m feeling better, he’ll take off, looking for something to make him happy, something he’ll never find out there.”

  Whatever it was that Toby was looking for, Mrs. Faye seemed to believe it was here, right under his nose. She wanted very much to help him find it. Seeing how much Toby’s being home meant to her, my frustration with her son began to ebb.

  “Oh, dear, Claudia, honey. I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy to rattle on this way!”

  The story had moved me, and I sort of felt like I needed to do something to help her resolve the dilemma, though I didn’t know exactly what. I sat on the edge of the seat across from her bed.

  “It’s fine, Mrs. Faye. If there’s anything I can do to help the situation, just ask.”

  “You’re such a doll,” she patted my hand affectionately. “And so easy to talk to.”

  I smiled. People often told me that.

  When it was close to ten o’clock, I went down to the kitchen. I was writing a grocery list at the kitchen table when Toby came in.

  “Hey,” he approached cautiously. “We still okay?”

  He was acting as awkward as I felt. I got up and tacked the list on the refrigerator, putting my back to him.
>
  Remaining impassive, I said, “Well, that night certainly left an impression.”

  I heard him blow out a breath. “Come on. Don’t hold that against me. Despite a moment or two of bad judgment, I’m not a bad guy.”

  I turned around and eyed him. “Keep your creepy friends away from me, and I’ll let it go.”

  “I can do that,” he said. Stepping closer, his eyes swept over me. The closeness alarmed me. I wanted to move away, but I didn’t want to be obvious.

  “Is Julia sleeping?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I answered, but puzzled, I returned, “Do you always call your mother by her first name?”

  “Saying ‘Mom’ makes it sound like I have a normal family. And the truth is I never felt much like a kid.” He shrugged and looked away, into the other room.

  “I got a little family history tonight.”

  “And you haven’t run for the hills yet?” Toby snorted. “What did my dear mother say about our lovely family?”

  I didn’t want to say too much. “She told me things were kind of rocky between you, your brother and your father.” We caught each other’s eye. He looked away again. Poor guy. There was no doubt the topic made him uncomfortable.

  “Hmm, yeah. Surprising, but we survived,” he said and began tracing a knot in the wood molding with his finger. “Julia’s had to deal with a lot more crap than she deserves.”

  “You’ve had it rough, too,” I said. “I didn’t realize until tonight that this was the second go-round with your mother’s cancer. Dealing with it can’t be easy for you either.”

  “Nothing about this is easy.” Frazzled, he ran his hand across the top of his head. “Being home again, watching her wasting away while she goes through chemotherapy and radiation. It’s hell.”

  I was beginning to soften, almost reached out to touch him. But didn’t.

  Instead, I said, “If it’s any consolation, it means a lot to her that you’re home.”

  He shifted his feet restlessly. “I need to be here. I just wish there was more that I could do. With my aunt, you, and the church women doing stuff for her, I feel useless.”