Deep Down True (27 page)

“You’d wear a different bra, of course,” said Nora, “but raw silk covers pretty well anyway.”

Dana put on the shirt, careful not to let her fingernails snag the delicate material. As she buttoned up the front, Nora adeptly did the buttons at her wrists and flipped the cuffs back. Squinting critically at the blouse, she adjusted the shoulders and fussed with the collar, sliding her fingers down the tips so they hung in perfect symmetry. Then she pivoted Dana until she was facing an enormous mirror hung over a low chest of drawers.

“Brilliant,” she breathed. Dana wasn’t sure if she was referring to herself or the shirt.

The two women spent several moments gushing to each other about the shirt’s utter perfection: how it could be worn with dressy jeans or a floor-length skirt, how its color accented Dana’s sandy blond hair, how its cut was so subtly flattering that no one would ever say, “How flattering”—people would simply think you looked
that good
.

All the while Dana kept thinking,
I will never be able to reciprocate with anything nearly as perfect.
The fact that Nora had paid nothing for the blouse didn’t factor in. She felt shaky knowing that one day Nora would see that Dana’s gift-giving capabilities would never measure up.

“Mom?” Morgan was standing in the doorway staring at her. “Whose is that?” she asked.

“Well . . . it’s . . .”

“It’s hers!” trilled Nora. “Just a tiny little gift from the shop. Isn’t your mother gorgeous?”

“Uh,” muttered Morgan. “Yeah. Mom, are we leaving soon? I have a bunch of studying to do for social studies. I have to, like,
know
China.”

Dana noticed how pale she looked; her lips seemed bloodless. “Sure, sweetie. Why don’t you go gather up your stuff.”

Morgan held up a plastic shopping bag with her costume in it. “Good to go,” she said, and, glancing at Nora, “Thanks for having me.” Then she turned and walked back down the hallway.

 

 

On the ride home, Dana asked Morgan about her night, but Morgan wasn’t very talkative. “I’m really tired,” she said. “I think we slept for about a minute and a half.”

“Why didn’t you go to bed if you were so tired?”

“Because Kimmi didn’t want to, and it’s her house.”

At a stoplight Dana slowed the car to a halt. “Morgan,” she said, turning to face her, “if you wanted to go to bed, you should’ve just nicely told her so and went.”

Morgan looked at her, the fog of weariness clearing momentarily. “Right,” she said. “Like
you
would ever go against the host.”

Dana was stunned. “I would go against the host if the host was being unreasonable,” she insisted.

“You say that, but you wouldn’t. You’re, like,
seriously
polite, Mom. You would go along with it.”

The traffic light changed to green, and Dana had to face front. Morgan leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes.

 

 

Tina,
thought Dana as soon as she opened her eyes on Sunday morning.

And,
She better not try to be too friendly.

And,
What do you wear to meet the woman who destroyed your marriage?

 

 

They parked in the lot by the high-school football field, but neither Morgan nor Alder got out. They waited for Dana to open her door first. She had told them on the ride over.

“Dad’s bringing Tina,” was all she’d said, and she hoped it sounded like no big deal.

Apparently she hadn’t pulled it off. They’d been silent for the remaining few minutes of the trip and now flanked her like body-guards as the three of them walked to the field. Kenneth and Tina were standing by the chain-link fence, just behind the home team’s bench. Kenneth was handing a water bottle over the fence to Grady, who took it and trotted back to his teammates.

Let’s get this the hell over with,
Dana thought, and headed straight toward them. “Why don’t you girls go on up and get seats,” she said. “I’m just going to say a quick hello.”

“I will, too,” said Morgan.

Alder hung an arm around Morgan. “Come on, girlfriend,” she said, and steered her in the direction of the stands.

Kenneth saw her first; his posture straightened, and his fingers began to clench at his jacket sleeves. He leaned briefly toward Tina, who glanced over her shoulder at Dana, then turned away. Beyond them, Jack Roburtin was giving the team his customary pregame pep talk.

“And I don’t wanna see anyone knitting mittens out there!” he was bawling at them. “You got that? Lemmehearyousay YES!”

Yes!
thought Dana.
No mitten knitting.
And then she was steps away and Kenneth was introducing them, as if she and Tina had no prior knowledge of each other, as if they didn’t know
exactly
who the other person was. “Nice to meet you,” said Dana.

“Real nice to meet you, too,” said Tina, holding out her hand to shake, then thinking better of it and pulling back. But by that time Dana had responded by extending her own hand, and Tina had to reach out again to grasp it. Her face turned red and splotchy. She had long brown hair that fell away from her face in wisps. It was fine and thin, like a child’s. She had gray eyes and a small upturned nose. She was petite, shorter than Dana by several inches, with narrow shoulders. Dana couldn’t see much of her figure, because she was wearing a calf-length, baby blue down coat.

Behind them, Coach Ro yelled, “Two laps, double time!”

“Grady’s been telling me all about his team,” said Tina, her eyelids flickering nervously. “He’s totally proud about it.”

Dana was aware of someone approaching, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Tina.
It doesn’t even matter if they aren’t as pretty as you,
Nora had said.
It’s just that they’re new. And you’re not.

“Hey there, beautiful.” Jack Roburtin was standing on the other side of the fence. He reached over to land a beefy hand on her shoulder, seeming to Dana as if he were doing an impression of a peacock, flaring his pectoral muscles for lack of a tail. He turned to Kenneth and grinned cockily. “We’re definitely going to win, now that I’ve got my good-luck charm here.”

Dana almost laughed out loud, and for the briefest moment she wished desperately that someone else were there to confirm that this bizarre scene—Tina with her puffy coat and pug nose, Kenneth pinching at his jacket sleeves in abject discomfort, Jack with his cartoonlike posturing—was actually taking place.
This is happening,
she told herself, biting the inside of her lip to keep from laughing.
These people are real.

“I’m going to head up into the stands now,” she told them. To Tina she said, “I’m sure I’ll see you again.” Then she smiled at Jack. “Good luck, Coach.”

“Thanks much.” He pitched her an intimate little wink and added, “I’ll call you tonight.”

“Sounds good.” And she went to join Morgan and Alder.

The girls watched as she approached, studying her as if she were some exotic bird that might fly off into the clouds at any second. She took up a spot in between them. Morgan eyed her for a moment, and Dana put her arm around her and gave a little squeeze.

“Impressive,” murmured Alder.

“Thanks,” Dana whispered and turned to watch the game.

D
RIVING TO WORK ON FRIDAY, WITH AN AGGRESsive rain dropping like countless tiny paratroopers onto the roof of her car, Dana felt calmer and more hopeful than she had felt in months.

The week had been virtually without incident. Grady’s conceit over his game-winning run into the end zone on Sunday had cooled slightly and by Monday morning was evident only in a slight swagger after he catapulted himself out of her minivan at school. A boy Dana didn’t recognize screamed, “Stelly!” and ran at him full throttle, knocking them both to the grass on impact. Grady gave him a happy cuff to the chest as they got up, and they ambled along shouldering into each other as they headed toward the playground.

On Tuesday night Kenneth had called to say he anticipated a light schedule on Wednesday and would be by to spend time with the kids while she worked late. He left shortly before she got home around eight-fifteen, and she found that Grady and Morgan had done their homework and eaten dinner. They were playing the Wii in the basement, not entirely amicably but without any obvious pinching, shoving, baiting remarks, or snatching at each other’s controller. When Dana walked in, Grady leaned over to Morgan and whispered in her ear. Morgan gave an indulgent smile and nodded.

Apparently Alder had left with Jet just before Kenneth arrived and had returned after his departure. “Having their dad at the house again was sort of a little fantasy for them,” Alder later explained to Dana. “If I was here, too, it would have been like casting Amy Wine-house in
High School Musical.
Totally ruins the effect.”

Dana was
almost
successful at not asking what Kenneth had given them for dinner, but when she tucked Grady in that night, the question seemed to grow legs and sneak out on its own.

“Chicken nuggets,” he said, rolling back and forth in his
Star Wars
comforter until his lower half was satisfactorily encapsulated in fabric Jedi. “In the microwave instead of the toaster oven like you make, but I ate them anyway,” he said, pleased with himself. “And an apple.”

“Cut up?”

“No he just handed it to me.”

“Did you eat it?”

“Yeah,” Grady snorted sarcastically. “Like
that
would happen.”

She threw the blanket up over his head and tickled him until he giggled like the little boy he was. Then she pulled the blanket back down under his chin and cupped his cheeks with both hands. He grinned up at her, and she realized it was the calmest, happiest look she’d seen on his face in a long time. “Was it good to have Dad here?” she murmured, not wanting the answer to matter as much as she knew it would.

“Yeah,” he sighed. The grin quickly downgraded as he added, “Before he came, when we were waiting for him, Morgan said, ‘Remember, this is a
visit.
It’s not like when he used to come home from work and he lived here. So don’t get all sad when he leaves.’”

Morgan knew how much this meant to him,
Dana realized. “Were you sad?” she asked Grady.

“A little,” he admitted. “I kinda almost forgot about the leaving part. But then she gave me the look. You know, like”—Grady tilted his head and raised his eyebrows—“and I remembered.”

“And you felt better?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his cheek up against her hand. “Well, no, but then she let me be King Boo in Mario Kart.” He shifted onto his side, and his knees slid up toward his belly.

“That was pretty nice of her,” said Dana.

“Yeah, she’s nice sometimes . . .” His eyelids drooped and his voice trailed off. “But not that much . . .”

Dana kissed him good night and went to Morgan’s room; she was sitting in bed with an earth-science textbook propped on her knees. “How was it tonight?” Dana asked.

Morgan shrugged. “A little weird . . . but okay. Is he going to do that a lot?”

“I don’t know. It depends on his work schedule, I guess. What were you and Grady whispering about when I came in?”

“Nothing big. Dad brought us a bag of Twizzlers, and Grady didn’t want me to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I think he just wanted to have a secret about Dad. Like it would kind of keep the feeling of him being here.”

Dana smiled. “Thanks for being a good big sister.” Morgan shrugged nonchalantly, but a proud little grin lit her face all the same.

Dana reached for the textbook; Morgan hung on to it for a moment but then released it, and Dana set it to rest on the floor. “When you were little, you used to do this funny thing.” She tapped Morgan’s hip, and Morgan slid over to make room. “You always wanted to bring a book to bed with you.”

“Which one?”

“Oh, different ones.” Dana ran a finger over the downy strands along Morgan’s hairline. “For a while it was
Barnyard Dance
. . . Let’s see, you loved
The Seven Silly Eaters.
I think the biggest hit was probably
Goodnight Moon.
”

“Yeah,” she murmured, sliding down into her covers. “I remember that . . . The old lady whispering hush. It was so . . .” Contentment softened the tension around her eyes.

The memory of a book,
Dana mused as she turned off the light and headed out of the room.
Wouldn’t life be so easy if that’s all we needed to feel comforted?

And now, with the windshield wipers flinging themselves frantically against the watery onslaught and thunder crashing against nearby hills, Dana cradled this tiny memory of her two contented children—both happy at the same time, no less!

In the office restroom, she leaned over to run the hand dryer across the rain-dampened ends of her hair before taking up her post out front. The warm air blew on her neck and down her blouse. It smoothed away the gooseflesh on her arms and made her smile secretly to herself.