Darling (7 page)

He taped the last box of clothes shut, scribbled “Mo’ clothes!” on the top, and sat on a milk crate. He glanced at his watch.
3:55pm.
He was giddy that he was finally leaving this place. It wasn’t a bad apartment when he first moved in, but that was four years ago. It hadn’t taken more than a year for the tiny efficiency to feel cramped. He could never relax for more than a few minutes inside before claustrophobia overtook him and he had to leave. In the end his need to get outside was probably good for him. He had been working a decent amount of overtime at the gym and hitting the weights more than usual. Both would come in good use in the fall when classes would cut into his work schedule and Coach Hatmaker would require a tortuous tryout to get his spot back on the wrestling team.

A different spot, he reminded himself. He had only been a hundred eighty five pounds when he last wrestled. Now he was hovering around two hundred. Not a heavyweight by any means, but still a weight class or two up. He remembered Hatmaker’s disposition and knew the coach would put him through the wringer to make sure that all of that added weight was functional on the mat.

A knock at his door pulled his mind back to the present. He stood, walked across the room, and squinted into the peephole. It was pitch black.

“Eileen…”

He heard her giggle on the other side and unlocked the door. She always found it funny to press her thumb against the peephole. Dennis thought she must have watched too many Mafia movies as a kid. He swung the door open.

“What are you doing here?”

She faked a frown. “I can leave, if you want.”

“Get in here.” He tugged her arm and pulled her inside. She held a plastic grocery bag in one hand. He shut the door behind her.

“I went out for some food and thought you might need a little snack, too. Ya know, with all that packing you should be doing.” She scanned the room and saw nothing but four boxes, a sleeping bag, and the milk crate. “Damn. You’re fast.”

“I practice a lot. So, what did you bring?”

She sat the bag on a box and pulled out a block of cheese and some crackers. She took a step to the side and smiled, doing her best Vanna White.

Dennis whistled. “That’s a mighty fine spread there, miss.”

“Why, thank you. The food’s not bad either.” She leaned in and kissed him.

He unrolled the sleeping bag onto the floor. She sliced the cheese with his pocketknife and joined him on the bag with a tube of crackers. He rattled off his list of reasons to be happy about moving and she laughed.

“And that’s just me,” he said and stuffed a cracker in his mouth. “Mike’s gonna be a whole new man.”

“Are you sure about this? What if Mike backs out again?”

“He won’t.”

“But what if he does? Can you afford the place on your own?”

He shrugged. “For a month or two. If he flakes—and he won’t—I’ll just post a flyer on campus. It won’t be a problem.”

“You have a lot of faith in that kid.”

Dennis laughed. “Kid? He’s only two years younger than you.”

“Physically, yeah. Emotionally?”

“Yeah. I know.” He leaned against the wall. “I have to push him like this, ya know? Everybody else in his life coddles him. That’s why he’s still—”

“Fucked up?”

He frowned.

“Sorry.”

“What about me?” he asked. “Think I’m fucked up, too?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” She laughed and punched his thigh. “But now I’m in too deep.”

“Laugh it up, Chuckles. Laugh it up.”

She crawled across the sleeping bag and inched herself up until she straddled him. “Naw. Truth be told, I think you’re just right.”

“The porridge Goldilocks chose, huh?”

“Something like that.” She kissed him, full and deep. One of her hands pressed against the wall above his head for support. The other traced small lines down the back of his neck.

His own hands drew her closer, pressing her small body against him. He slid a hand up the back of her shirt and rubbed the warm skin of her lower back. It didn’t take long for her hips to grind against his pelvis.

They stayed on the sleeping bag for the next hour, exploring the contours of each other’s bodies until they collapsed with exhaustion.

Eileen draped an arm over Dennis and rested her face against his chest. “You’re in pretty good shape, pal.”

“You ain’t so bad yourself.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking of what to say.

It was too long and she noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just…does this mean we’re…”

“Exclusive? I don’t know. Do you want to be?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Good,” she said and kissed him. “Me too.”

“Good.”

“That’s settled. What took you so long?”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. You just seemed like it wasn’t something that you wanted.”

“Really? How?”

“I…shit. I don’t know, really. That’s just what I thought.”

“You sure you weren’t just displacing your own fears and concerns onto me?”

He laughed. “Damn, girl. One psychology class and you think you’re Freud.”

“Seriously. After everything you’ve been through…I mean, have you been with anyone since Allison?”

“Honestly?”

“No, lie to me. Yes, honestly.”

“Well, there were a couple of, um…”

“Fuck buddies?”

“Friends with benefits.”

“Fuck buddies.”

“Okay. Fuck buddies. Anyway, I’ve slept with a couple of girls—always using protection, of course.”

“Of course.”

“But I haven’t been involved with anyone. Not seriously. Hadn’t really wanted to, truth be told.”

“Then you saw me playing
Donkey Kong
while my clothes dried and your whole world changed.”

“What can I say? I love me some
Donkey Kong
.”

She laughed and propped herself on one elbow. He looked up at her and smiled. She was beautiful. The smell of her was even better; it lingered over him like the sweat that sprinkled his body and smelled like spring. Her skin was soft and warm against his.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded. “I can deny you nothing at the moment.”

“What was she like?”

“I don’t really think…”

“I’m sorry.” She turned and stood. “I shouldn’t have pried. I—”

“Lie down,” he said and pulled her back onto the sleeping bag. “What I mean is—do you really want to hear about it? It won’t bother you?”

“That’s why I asked.”

“It’s just that…it didn’t end like a normal relationship, ya know? We didn’t yell and cuss at each other. She didn’t run off with some other guy and I didn’t cheat on her. I never went through a phase where I hated her, or realized how bad we were for each other. She
died
.”

Eileen took his hand. “I want to know everything about you and that means knowing about her. If you’re okay with talking about her, I want to know.”

He sighed and rolled onto his back. His eyes traced the cracks in his ceiling and he debated whether he should give her the whole truth or the edited version. He settled on the edited version. “She was…well, energetic. From doing gymnastics all her life, I guess. She would never get tired. I was an All-State wrestler and she would make me feel like I was out of shape half the time. She was always up on current events—politics, genocide in Africa, all of that. And she genuinely cared, too. Not like most people who just fake a cause to be cool or whatever. She loved her family, loved her brother, and helped out in the community with things. Ya know, bake sales and all that.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “She had this short, rock star kind of haircut. Like an updated Pat Benatar or something. I know, sounds lame, but it looked great on her. Her hair was dark, too. Like the sky right before it rains. And she had these gorgeous blue eyes. I’ve never seen that color blue again.

“She used to laugh a lot, said it was what made life worth living. She…she had this pet turtle, named it Darwin. Her parents hated that. She used to come to all of my matches, and she would make these signs…” He laughed. “They were fucking retarded, really. All covered in glitter with my name written in big block letters, and she would hold them up high during my matches and scream like a banshee while I wrestled. My friends loved that.

“Then, she had a bad few months. Grades slipped, she quit gymnastics, started missing school. She was still there for me, but…” He couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth and so skipped ahead in the story. “Her parents came down real hard on her. School nurse said she needed to be on anti-depressants, but her Dad was against her going to a psychiatrist. Then I get a call one day, from her mom. She’s crying and…she starts cussing me and…They had found her. Earlier. In the bathtub.”

Eileen sniffed. He kept his gaze on the ceiling. Inside he was a waterfall of tears, but he didn’t let himself cry about Allison anymore. Not in front of other people, at least.

“We buried her that weekend, and then everyone’s life went to shit.”

She kissed his cheek. When she pulled away he was left with a hot wetness high on his jaw. It wasn’t a surprise; he had learned long ago to never underestimate a woman’s capacity for empathy. That was something else that Allison had taught him.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay. I’ve had a couple of years to deal with it.”

“I mean I’m sorry I made you tell it.”

He rolled over to face her. She had wiped her face dry, but her eyes were still puffy and red. “You didn’t make me do anything. You asked and I obliged.” He kissed her. “How does it make
you
feel?”

“Awful,” she said, and gave a nervous laugh. “But I needed to know.”

“Still want to be serious with me?”

“You bet.” She pressed her lips against his.

“Hope you don’t regret that.”

She giggled. “I can’t possibly think of how I could.”

* * *

The Pritchett family ate dinner in silence. Mike stared at the vegetables on his plate drowning under a tide of gravy. His mother cut her food into tiny bites. His father chomped away.

“Why aren’t you eating?” his mother asked.

His stomach turned. He’d felt like vomiting since taking his first bite. He wished he didn’t have to do this.

Wished he could keep things as they were. Wished he was okay still being a kid.

“Mike?”

The words formed in his mind, rolled down the back of his neck, and rested like a lead weight in his mouth. But, try as he might, he couldn’t force his jaws apart. He was saying it, he was sure, positive the electro-chemical impulses were firing along his nerves, but nothing happened.

His father sat his fork on the plate. “Mike? Your mother’s asking you a question.”

Here it was. Now or never. Be a man for once, dammit.

“I’m moving.” It leaked out and sapped all of his energy. His hands shook and a bead of sweat rolled down his nose. It fell from the tip and splashed into his gravy. His throat was tight and breathing was painful.
But I said it
. As scared as he was, he was also shocked. And proud.

“What was that?” His father’s voice was soft. Questioning.

Back out. He didn’t hear. You can go back. Pretend it didn’t happen. Like a do-over in kickball or—

“I’m moving,” he repeated.

His parents stared at him. Neither moved or reacted, except to blink.

“Dennis got a place,” he continued. “It’s a two bedroom. Nice area. Rent’s cheap.” They stayed silent and he went on. “He’s gonna teach me how to drive. His girlfriend’s selling her car. It’s a Saturn. Good condition. Low miles. She’ll cut me a deal.”

“Don’t be silly, Mike.” His mother went back to cutting her food.

His father stared at him from across the table, his face expressionless. “No,” he said and shook his head.

Mike felt heat in his stomach. It rose all the way to his face. He ground his teeth together. “I wasn’t asking permission. I was telling you.”

“And I’m telling you ‘no.’ It’s not open for discussion.”

“Why would you want to leave here anyway?” His mother shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. You have free room and board, I do your laundry—”

“That’s why.” Mike fought hard to keep his anger in check. “I need to learn how to take care of myself.”

“I have no faith you can do that,” his father said. “Now keep quiet. You’re upsetting your mother.”

“I can’t keep quiet.”

“Mike—”

“I’ve already given Dennis my share of the deposit.”

His father’s face twisted. He rose from the table and stomped upstairs.

His mother shook her head again. “You shouldn’t have, Michael. You shouldn’t have.”

After a moment, his father stormed back down. “You son of a bitch,” he roared. “You snuck into my room and stole that goddamn card.”

“I can’t steal what’s mine.”

His father paced back and forth by the table. “How much did you give him?”

His mother continued eating.

“Half of the deposit.”

“How much is that?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but somehow “That’s none of your business” came out instead.

“How dare you…What has happened to you? Your sister never would have talked to us like that.”

“I’m not her, though, am I?”

“You most certainly aren’t. She’d be ashamed of you if she could see how you treat us. And what would she think of you moving in with the son-of-bitch that took her from us?”

Mike shook his head. “Dennis didn’t take her, Dad. She killed herself.”

His mother gasped. Her spoon fell from her hand and clattered onto her plate.

His father’s eyes glistened. His jaw shook. “That bastard is why she did it.”

“No,
you’re
why she did it.” Lights flashed in Mike’s eyes and the world shifted. He blinked and found himself on the ground, his chair tipped over and his food spilled across the floor. He tasted pennies. His ears rang.

Fucking Christ, he punched me!

His mother stood over him, her hands pressed against his father’s chest. The old man trembled, his fist clenched so tight that his fingernails bit into his palm and blood leaked out over his knuckles.