Part 19 (1/2)
”Hey, will you look at this,” Dennis said, sliding out a cake decorated in the shape of a soccer field with goal nets, scoreboard, and miniature players kicking a ball. ”Here, count the candles, just to be sure.” He held out the cake.
”Twelve? I thought he was eleven.” The card he'd bought said ”For an Eleven-Year-Old.”
”He is, but one's for good luck, right?”
”Oh, that's right. Good luck. I forgot.”
”Hey, will you relax? Look at you, sweat pouring down your face, you're a wreck. Those punk b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, they're not ha.s.sling you again, are they?”
”No. No, they haven't been back.” He tensed, expecting more talk about that night, about Jilly.
”Good. You can't ever show blood, Gordo. The least little thing and they'll be on you like vultures. Remember that now.”
Gordon nodded, amazed. How did his brother think he had survived the vultures in prison? Was Dennis so blind about some things, or was it just a way of compartmentalizing his life? And wasn't it the same for him, who wandered among these perfectly normal people as if he were every bit as decent as they were, as if no one knew who he really was?
”Hey!” Dennis called as he carried the cake onto the deck. ”In my next life I want to come back as one of Lisa Harrington's kids.”
”You already are are one of her kids!” a woman shouted back, and no one laughed harder than Dennis. one of her kids!” a woman shouted back, and no one laughed harder than Dennis.
Delores dragged a lawn chair close to Gordon's under the sweet flowering linden tree. With the cake served and presents opened, the children were absolved of any responsibility to behave like guests. They ran between the yard next door and this one in fitful bursts of Frisbee and kickball and now for the most part were just running and shrieking. The adult voices and laughter came faster and louder. The almost frantic clamor reminded him of the prisoners in the last moments of rec time. He was tired. Just being here had been a strain. With rain threatening, the sky sagged low overhead.
”What a nice party this has been.” Delores sighed, settling into the chair. ”See those two women over there? The one in the long blue skirt? She's Albert's sister-in-law's cousin, Mary Bianci. She was two years ahead of us in high school. Apparently things haven't been going too well this week for poor Albert. Mary said his daughter totaled her very expensive sports car, and then the next day his big beautiful house in Dearborn was broken into.” She shook her head. ”So much for the safety of suburbia. You can say what you want about Collerton, but I've never been broken into, never once!”
”You live on the second floor, though.”
”So? I have a fire escape. They could get in that way. If they wanted to. Sometimes I even leave that window open on hot nights.”
”You shouldn't do that,” he said, thinking of Mrs. Jukas.
”Why?”
He squirmed under her scrutiny. She probably thought his warning harkened back to his own crime. ”It's not safe, that's all.” He broke off a blade of gra.s.s and wrapped it around his finger.
”There's no such thing as safe.” She was looking at him.
”Uncle Gordon!” Annie cried, running up from behind. She leaned over the back of his chair. ”Mommy said to ask you if you're having a good time.”
”Yes, I am. A very good time. Thank you, Annie.”
She swung around the chair arm so that her pert, sweaty face was at his. ”I'm supposed to find out if you want anything. Some more cake? Ice cream? Punch?”
”Punch would be nice.”
”Okay! Here you go!” She laughed and drove her fist into his shoulder. ”Have some punch!”
”Oh,” he said after a moment. ”Some punch. I get it.” He tried to smile.
”I think you hurt him! Poor Uncle Gordon,” Delores called as Annie ran off, giggling. ”She's beautiful, isn't she? She looks so much like her mother. And Jimmy, G.o.d, he reminds me so much of Dennis.” She sighed. ”It's amazing when you think of it. I mean, having a child that's so much like you and yet they're their own person. My sister Babbie said with her first baby it was all like such a miracle. But then when the second one came along it hit her, that these were really real people and not just babies she was bringing into this really real world.”
In the corner of the yard, an intense badminton volley continued over a drooping net. Dennis watched with his arm around Lisa, talking to Father Hensile and a man he'd met earlier, an older man leaning on hand braces.
”That's Ernie,” Delores said. ”He owns a company that makes umbrellas. They're famous for their golf umbrellas.”
Umbrellas, he thought with a pang. he thought with a pang. The poor guy can't even hold an umbrella. The poor guy can't even hold an umbrella.
”They look so happy,” Delores said after a moment.
”Do you think she knows?” Gordon said. There was a rasp of leaves in the quick wind.
”You mean about that night?” She leaned toward him, continuing in the same informative tone. ”Probably not that. But she knows Dennis, so she knows. How could she not? He's always been a ladies' man.”
He stared at them, his family, his stability and mooring point. Without them he had nothing. No one. Dennis's hand dangled over Lisa's shoulder. Her arm was tight around his waist. If Delores was right, he didn't know which was more upsetting, their easy pretense or the false intimacy. It changes everything. Cheapens it. It changes everything. Cheapens it. His brother had everything but wanted more. Didn't he know what could happen? Didn't he care? One wrong move, a misstep, that's all. He gripped the chair arms, but he wanted to leave. His brother had everything but wanted more. Didn't he know what could happen? Didn't he care? One wrong move, a misstep, that's all. He gripped the chair arms, but he wanted to leave.
”Gordon?” Delores touched his wrist. ”What is it?”
”Nothing.”
”You look so . . . so sad. Do you feel all right?”
Dennis and Lisa walked hand in hand toward Lisa's parents. Annie was sprawled in her grandfather's lap, head back on his shoulder. Mrs. Harrington gestured, and Dennis leaned close. Whatever she whispered made him suddenly seize Annie as if to run off with her. With all the adults laughing, Annie struggled free and leaped back into her grandfather's outstretched arms.
”How could he do that? What's wrong with him?” Gordon said.
”Nothing. Nothing's wrong with him.” Her hand pressed on his arm. ”Some men just . . . well, they need more than others, that's all.”
”Need more what?”
”They need the respectability and the security that comes with being married, but they have other needs, too. They need someone who understands them, who knows what . . . what those needs are. Someone who . . . someone who doesn't expect much back.” Her voice faltered. ”He'd never leave Lisa, though, if that's what you're thinking.”
He watched her try to sc.r.a.pe a ketchup stain from her pant leg with a fingernail thick with fuchsia polish. She has no good sense, no judgment, She has no good sense, no judgment, he thought. Her kindness to Jada Fossum now seemed only careless and indiscriminate, an act of giving, meritless because of its easy availability, because she couldn't say no. Her charity was earthy and promiscuous. She had done it not for the girl's sake or his, but for her own. In helping others, she was pleasuring herself. It was a way of insinuating herself into people's lives, feeding off their needs and their loneliness. he thought. Her kindness to Jada Fossum now seemed only careless and indiscriminate, an act of giving, meritless because of its easy availability, because she couldn't say no. Her charity was earthy and promiscuous. She had done it not for the girl's sake or his, but for her own. In helping others, she was pleasuring herself. It was a way of insinuating herself into people's lives, feeding off their needs and their loneliness.
Delores drove slowly. She lingered at stop signs, waiting so long after lights turned green that cars had to sound their horns before she moved on.
”Well, thank you,” he said, opening his door when she finally pulled up in front of his house.
”I wonder how the puppy's doing. I hope Jada's still giving him the medicine. Dr. Loop said she should use it all up.”
”Well, thanks again.” He managed to get one foot out onto the street.
”Do you know she can barely read?”
”Really? She seems smart enough.”
”I don't think it's that. I saw her trying to read the directions on the medicine box. First she held it this close. . . .” She held her palm to her face. ”Then out like this. I think the poor thing needs gla.s.ses.”