EYES ON YOU

by Lily Robins

  How far could this child virtuoso actually go, he wondered? Roman looked over at Jess and figured that she was probably thinking the same thing.

  *****

  The gymnasium was crowded, the high school band was rocking “Shake It,” and the cheerleaders were strutting and gyrating to the music. Cheryl and Eli were seated a few rows up, easy to spot when the Leitner family and Roman walked through the crowd of people who were mingling on the sidelines. Reverend Chuck and Judge Dorothy Mannis were waiting, sitting on the first row, his smile taking over his whole face when he spotted Molly and those who were with her.

  Over the loud music, Chuck grinned as he said, “I need to hear my student sing tonight.” He introduced Jess to his wife, the Mannises standing when Jess and the judge shook hands. “And Roman,” Dorothy Mannis said with a continuing big smile. “How are you?”

  “I’m doing very well, Dot. How have you been?”

  While Dorothy was replying, Jess bent lower to ask Molly, “Are you sure you’re not nervous, Darling?”

  “No, I’m not nervous, Mom. Because I know I can do it.”

  “AMEN!” Chuck said in reaction to his student’s confidence.

  Roman, Jess and Molly took seats beside the Mannises, the adults noticing that Aden had already climbed a few rows higher to sit beside Danny and his parents and a throng of others, including a few young teen-aged girls. Jess, eyeing the group and then waving to Cheryl and Eli, said to Roman, “Tell me there aren’t any girls going on this camping trip.”

  “No girls,” Roman honestly confirmed. “But, a whole lot of tales will be swapped and shared about them. Things are beginning to shake loose with that.” He smiled at her. “Hang on to your hat, Mom. Aden’s a good-looking kid.”

  The lights in the gymnasium began to dim and then brighten, a sign for the band to wind up their song, and when that was accomplished, the announcer welcomed everyone to the last varsity game of the season, pitting the visiting Eagles against the hometown Hawks. Wild cheering erupted, both teams receiving rousing support.

  Then the announcer’s familiar request: “Please rise for our national anthem, being performed tonight by Miss Molly Leiter!”

  Ear splitting applause erupted, the majority of those on the home side knowing what was coming. Molly did not allow the adulation to get to her while walking out a few steps in her black sweatshirt, sweatpants and sneakers, her unadorned blonde tresses streaming down her back. Lights were lowered, a spotlight shined on her, and when she glanced at Reverend Chuck Mannis and he nodded, Molly raised the microphone she held and started right on key.

  Roman placed an arm around Jess as her daughter’s voice rang clear, pure and magnificent. With hands held over their hearts, Chuck and Dorothy stood mesmerized.

  “…Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming…”

  Roman did not have to guess what Jess was thinking. He thought she must be wondering where Molly’s uncommon ability would ultimately take her. He was certainly pondering that question while watching this nine-year-old prodigy sing her heart out, hypnotically mesmerizing the crowd.

  “…O say, does that Star - Spangled Banner yet wave, O’er the land of the free…”

  The applause had already begun, overcoming much of the final phrase. Chuck Mannis moved his hand from his chest as though to guide Molly, his ears attuned to her. As soon as she sang the last pure note, sustaining the word “brave,” he turned toward Jess and had to shout above all of the applause and whistling. “Your daughter has perfect pitch. She’s a mezzo-soprano, and her range is phenomenal!”

  For the second time that day, Jess had tears glistening in her eyes as she merely nodded at Chuck, while she opened her arms to Molly who was returning to the sideline.

  “Nine years old, ladies and gentlemen…Miss Molly Leitner,” the announcer said above the din, indicating that he, too, had been affected by what he and everyone else had heard. “Thank you, Molly Leitner!”

  When the lights came up, and the band started playing again to welcome the players, Roman looked back at Cheryl and Eli—and Julia Mayer—the three of them smiling down at him with awed looks on their faces. His mother! Roman knew how she’d gotten there, noticing Cheryl’s solicitous look at their mother, while placing an arm around Julia as an indication of her recognition of Molly’s feat.

  No one was going to miss him for a few minutes. Jess and Molly were listening to Chuck and Dorothy’s comments and praise. Roman managed to squeeze through the fans to where the Randalls and his mother were reseating themselves.

  “I’m so glad I came,” Julia said above the noise. “I was in the ladies’ room when you, Jessica and the children walked in.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here too,” Roman replied. “But you didn’t tell me…I would have swung by and picked you up.” His voice held genuine concern at his omission.

  “Mom can ride home with you,” Cheryl amended. “We kind of wanted to surprise you.”

  Roman glanced at Eli, who was gorging on popcorn from a huge bucket and focused on the tip-off, and, on his other side, Danny and Aden and a couple of other boys who were surrounded by an even larger group of teen-aged girls. Roman was struck by how things with all three boys had begun to shift. No point in denying it. Still, he started to squeeze in beside Julia, deciding to sit with his family for a few minutes, but Julia wouldn’t allow that to happen, moving over to block him.

  “Go on back and sit where you need to be,” his mother said with a note of authority. “We’re fine, and you’re fine where you were, and looks to me like we’re going to need some more chairs.”

  “More chairs?” Roman asked, assuming he hadn’t heard Julia right.

  “For family dinners, Bro,” Cheryl cheerily announced, obviously enjoying the look on her brother’s face.

  *****

  A whole lot of people kept arriving at Eli and Cheryl’s. Many of the team were there, along with quite a few of their parents, and Danny had invited some of his friends on the B team. The junior varsity lineup hadn’t had an undefeated season like the A team, but they’d won all but two of their games. Kids of all ages were there, and Molly even found a couple of girls around her age.

  The Randalls had a very large great-room that accommodated many of their visitors, and the overflow of folks went straight into the kitchen, where Eli was handing out beer and sodas to anyone who wanted them, along with invitations to partake of snacks of all kinds on a long kitchen island. Chuck and Dorothy Mannis stopped by, as did Phil Wallace, the head basketball coach.

  Eli, dwarfed by so many in his and Cheryl’s kitchen, took his ribbing good-naturedly, sipping on a lite beer when he wasn’t handing out beverages to others. Roman copped sodas for Jess and himself, while Jess started talking with Cheryl and Julia.

  Julia commented, “Molly’s got that kind of voice that, when you hear her sing, you know she’s going to go far with it.”

  “She’s been singing since before she was potty-trained,” Jess replied.

  “It’s her personality too,” Cheryl said. “She’s poised and goes out to sing with such confidence and self-assurance. I know you’ve had a lot to do with her being that way, Jess.”

  “That’s abundantly clear,” Chuck said, joining in. “Did Molly have opportunities to sing when you lived in Seattle?”

  “Just a couple of times,” Jess responded. “She went to an elementary school that had a large number of students. We…ah…aren’t church-goers.”

  Mannis smiled. “The community in which you now live is very lucky indeed to have such a rare talent as Molly’s. We’re going to be learning how to read music, so she’ll know the counts that are ascribed to the notes. Learning how to play piano will help her.”

  Dorothy Mannis said, “I could listen to your daughter sing all night!”

  CHAPTER 21

  Roman and Mona woke up to an overcast sky. After so many days in a row of the sun sh
ining brightly amidst a clear blue sky, Roman had to remind himself that this was only mid-March. Mainers could expect continued cold days and nights, with more snow likely for another month or more. He stepped outside with his dog, wearing his heavy sweats and socks, and noticed footprints were near the house. The grass didn’t grow there at all, and was sparse or non-existent anywhere where pine needles fell. Mud from snowfalls, rain, and heavy mists kept the ground moist for months. Imprints in moist ground tended to stay around until heavier forms of precipitation obscured them.

  These footprints were clearly a recent thing. He would have noticed them the day before, because he distinctly remembered being outside in the early morning cold before he and Mona had left for the clinic, and he had looked at the ground around his house. He thought about that for a moment, finally deciding that his landlord might have come by to check on the house. Or—sometimes people climbed up the bluff to explore what was above it, and, on occasion, they trespassed on private property. He looked once more at the prints, deciding that they had been made by someone wearing boots.

  The heavy mist was thicker beyond the bluff, leaving the ocean invisible. But he heard the gentle lapping noises where the ocean and bay waters met, the familiar and eternal sounds of sways and gurgles, eclipsed by the squawks of gulls and terns. At times, the island’s tendency to remain shrouded in fog could become claustrophobic. He doubted that a person with that disorder could tolerate the disorientation that heavy fog could create. Illusions of being closed in, or suffocating, were common conditions affecting many in fog-prone areas. And sounds were often displaced, or deemed unreliable by a dense mist that distorted them.

  Roman called Mona in, and stepped back into the house. He couldn’t see the hound, but he could hear her tracking through the elm and maple leaves that had fallen, having created layers on the straw. He called her again, and she slowly appeared, ghostlike, a short distance from the door at the edge of visibility. For a moment, he thought he was looking at a different canine, until he caught sight of the leopard spots on her head and back. Was there something…?

  “Mona? What’s the matter?” he asked.

  She stood unmoving for another long minute, and then she trotted to the backdoor as though nothing at all was wrong. Roman got an old towel and wiped her down. She loved this part, coercing him to play tug-of-war with her when he was not even through wiping her down. He shut and locked the door, and played and rough-housed with her. The rougher he played, the more she liked it.

  “We’ve made a terrific mess,” he finally said, looking at all the flecks of mud and torn pieces of towel. “Are you gonna help me clean all this up?” He looked at himself, noting that his sleeping sweats needed laundering. In fact, the entire house needed a cleaning.

  If Jess wanted to see where he lived—well, she was going to see it sooner or later—he didn’t want her to see that the floors in his place looked pretty bad, and that he could write his name in the dust that seemed to have accumulated overnight. Before Christmas, he had given the house a fairly good once-over. Lordy! Had it been that long ago?

  His landline rang and he figured that Julia was calling him. She was about the only one who called him on that phone. He picked up the receiver without checking the caller ID and what sounded like a child said, “Don’t make me do it.” Then the caller hung up, the click sound, unmistakable.

  He stood immobile for a moment, holding the dead phone until the familiar beeping sound began. He hung up and looked at the caller ID for the last number. UNKNOWN. A prank was his initial thought—some kind of a crank call. Not recognizing the caller’s voice, he shook off any concern.

  Immediately thereafter, the phone rang again, its shrillness piercing his ears. This time, he looked at the caller ID and picked up the receiver again. “Morning, Mom.”

  “Good morning to you too, Dear.”

  “I’m about to jump in the shower for a quick one, so Al doesn’t throw me out of the store.”

  His mother laughed at that. “He’d better not,” she warned. “I would drive myself, but my cataracts don’t allow me to see so well in this fog. You could cut this stuff with a knife.”

  “I’ll be there is fifteen or twenty minutes.” He did worry about his mother’s vision, but the ophthalmologist she saw didn’t think her cataracts were quite ready for removal.

  Roman was at his mother’s twenty minutes later, having some difficulty himself with the mist that had decided to hang around and even intensify. He could barely see a faint outline of her house from a few feet away when he parked in the driveway. When Julia came out to get into his vehicle, he didn’t see her until she suddenly appeared beside his Navigator.

  “I was planning to get this washed and vacuumed today,” he said, as he leaned over to open the door. Julia got in and said, “Good luck with that. The city’s banked in too.” Reliably, Julia listened to local weather reports and conditions. “It’s not expected to lift until sometime tomorrow when a front comes through and moves it out.”

  As Roman drove to the market, he asked, “Would you like Mona to spend the night with you tonight?”

  His mother’s face lit up. “You know I would.” Her mind went into overdrive. In a remarkably subtle way, she asked, “Plans for the evening?”

  “Hmmm.”

  “That’s nice.”

  She kept a humored look while Roman turned into the parking lot of Mayer’s Fresh Market. “I heard the boys talking about a camping trip they’re planning for tonight.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Boys love doing that—although it’s so damp and cold out.”

  Roman pulled into a spot as close he could get to the store and turned full-on toward his mother to say, “But nothing stops a man when he’s about to go on a very important mission that has to remain top-secret.”

  Julia’s smile widened as she held a finger to her mouth.

  *****

  After he returned from the store with the things he had bought for himself, including two bottles of a wine he liked, Roman went to town cleaning the house. He washed all of the clothes that had been piling up, washed the sheets on his bed and put on fresh ones, and washed the heap of used towels he needed to get off the floor anyway. He cleaned every fixture in the bathroom and then dragged the vacuum cleaner out. From time to time, Mona kept a lazy eye on him, but mostly she napped. He stopped to eat a bowl of cereal, but kept at the cleaning while jazz loudly blared from his stereo. He almost missed hearing his cell phone buzz.

  “I just took Aden over to the Randall’s house. I had to drive so slowly in this fog that Molly and I thought we would be camping out overnight too—in the car.”

  “But you, being a good sport, sent hotdogs along with him.”

  “And potato chips, marshmallows, Hershey bars, Graham Crackers, and sodas…”

  He chuckled. Hearing her voice did strange things to him.

  “I wanted to hear you…”

  Jesus H. Christ!

  “Are you telepathic? I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  She laughed. “What are you doing?”

  “Cleaning up a pig sty, so my girlfriend doesn’t rate me as being too much of a slob for her.”

  Jess laughed and said, “I’ve wondered where you live.”

  “You might decide to find out.”

  “Molly’s staying with Aunt Ruth tonight.”

  He managed to mutter, “All night?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Lionel Richie’s All Night Long swirled inside his head, making him tongue-tied and hoarse-sounding. “I’ll…uh…pick you up about six?” He cleared his throat. “I was going to make a reservation at a place in Portland, but with the fog being so thick, would you settle for Justin’s?”

  “I haven’t been there.”

  “It’s nice and casual.”

  “I’ll be ready,” she said.

  After he disconnected, the thought—a very important thought—struck him. In three minutes, he, in his Navigator,
was curving through the pines, on his way out of the driveway.

  *****

  She was dressed in dark slacks and, over them, she wore a cream-colored sweater that was tiered and had accents of color throughout the fabric that shimmered in the light. The neck of the sweater was low enough to show a minimal amount of cleavage. She had arranged her hair by pulling it back at the sides of her head and clasping it with something in back. Her ear lobes were adorned with sparkling hoop-style earrings, and she wore subtle applications of make-up that enhanced her already gorgeous good looks.

  “You’re stunning,” he honestly said.

  “And you’re quite a lovely man,” she countered, examining him in an appreciative way.

  He had gotten a quick hair trim earlier, while on his trip to the city. Wearing a dark wool blazer over a striped shirt, he had topped off the ensemble with light beige slacks that he could now get into again.

  She held a smile when he assisted her into her coat. “Care to share with me what’s making you almost laugh, Ms. Wentworth?”

  She let out a nervous chortle as she said, “Us.”

  Draping an arm around her, he said, “Us. I like the sound of the word, don’t you?” He helped her into his vehicle, and then got in and backed out of the driveway.

  They drove down the hill, passed Ruth’s Restaurant, and down into a queue for the ferry. The fog forced Roman to use his fog lights, in addition to the regular lights on the Navigator. He turned both off as they waited.

  Looking over at him, she posited, “What if we never met?”

  The sheer absurdity of the question astounded him. “There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind we would have met,” he assured her. “As soon as I laid eyes on you, I would have asked around until someone told me who you were.”

  Seeing her smile, Roman reached and took hold of her hand. The fog was pressing in so heavily that there was a feeling of being cocooned in a shared pod.

  She said she was at a crossroads the day they met. “When you came to the police station about Aden that morning, I was about to admit that I’d made a mistake, and that we should have moved to some place like Boston. The anonymity of a larger city struck me as being better for my kids and me.”