Full of Grace (9 page)

She bows her head and I feel her fingers working in my grasp, tracing the edge of her thumb with the middle finger on the same hand.  I let go of her hands and take a step back, looking down at her. 

She’s crying.

CHAPTER TEN

HALE SHOWS UP ON MY DOORSTEP, WITH PANTS, for Sher.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”  Sher squeal-giggles, running across the room and snatching them from Hale’s outstretched hand.  She slides into them, right in the middle of the living room.

“Yeah, thanks,” I tell Hale.  She pats my back.

“You can’t keep her locked up if she doesn’t want to be here.”

“It was going just fine, until you showed up.”

“It was not,” Sher glowers, before turning back to Hale.  “Want to take me out for some Mojitos at a Hookah lounge?”

I nearly choke on my tongue.  Hale laughs.

“Just burgers and fries, Landon,” she says.  “And I’ll have her home by curfew.”

Sher snorts.  “Let me just grab my purse…oh wait.  That’s right.  Landon also hid my purse.”

“Have a good time,” I tell her with a grin.

“I need my purse to do that,” she says.

“Nope.  We’ll call it pur-surance.”

Sher groans, planting her hand on her hip again.  “You don’t need insurance.  I’m coming back,” she says, and I almost choke on my tongue again. 
She is?

But Hale just slips her hand through Sher’s arm and drags her to the door.

“I’ll
buy
you a new purse,” she says.  “Let’s just go eat!”

***

The girls are gone for less than three minutes when my mood sinks like a 50-pound pancake in my stomach.  I’m not sure she’s actually coming back.  It’s not like I’ve given her any reason to do it, besides holding her belongings hostage.  So I do what I do whenever I’m stuck.  I call in my big-sister-back-up.  Gina gets it on the first ring.

“What’s up?”  she barks on the other end.  That’s how Gina answers the phone.  I hear the machine shop grinding away in the background.

“Want to grab a bite over at the Coney Island on your lunch hour?”

“You buying?  All I got is a ham sandwich and no wallet.”

“I’ll buy.”

“Good.  I get lunch in a half hour.”

“Can you make this a long one?”

“Alright,” she says slowly.  The machine shop muffles a bit.  I can just about picture her, with her finger stuffed in her free ear and tipping her head toward her chest as she asks,  “What’s going on?”

Gina is the third child in our family, the third in the five girl line up, and the sister I’m closest to.  Five years older than me, she was the one sister I could’ve taken to the bar as my wingman, if only we went to the same kind of bars.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say.  “Just need some Gina-input.”

“Okay, fine.  Just bring a load of money, because I’m starving and now I’m expecting dessert too.”

“Will do.  I’m on my way.”

***

Even though she’s coming from work, Gina still makes it to our usual lunch spot before me.  She’s sitting in a booth near the window, hitting on the trainee waitress, when I slide into the seat across from her.  Gina smiles at me.

“This is my brother, Landon,” Gina says. The waitress’s smile brightens, her fingers lifting a bouquet of curls off her collarbone and splashing them back, over her shoulder.

“I’m Duncan.  Can I get you something to drink?” she asks.

“Lemonade?”

Duncan flashes me the barbell pierced through her tongue.  “Fruit punch?”

Any other day, the barbell would have intrigued me, but not today.  My smile is only polite.

“How about water with lemon?”

“I’ll be right back with it,” Duncan chirps and my sister glances over her shoulder to admire everything she can about the waitress walking away.  Only after Duncan’s behind the counter pouring our drinks does Gina relax against the booth again, stretching one arm across the back.

“She’s yours,” Gina acknowledges.  I shrug and Gina drops her arm, sitting up straight.  “Whoa now.  That’s a
woman. 
A pretty dang gorgeous woman that, unfortunately, doesn’t seem to be playing for my team.  The least you could do is show some respect for my good taste and keep her at the table for me.  What’s the matter with you?  You always want a shot at my sloppy seconds.  What’s going on?  Wait.  Don’t tell me that psycho chick is back on your radar.”

I toy with one of the plastic cream cups, flipping it over with my finger.

“Amy? Hell no,” I say.

“Who is it then?” Gina asks.  Duncan returns with our drinks and asks for our order.  Gina gives me a competitive little grin, but no matter how many times my sister interrupts me, to grab Duncan’s attention, the waitress stays riveted on me.  Gina snorts when Duncan scoots away.

“She wants you,” Gina says, putting her elbows on the table and clasping her hands in front of her.  “Ok, so onto business.  If it’s not the psycho girl, than who are we talking about?”

“Her name’s Sher.”

“Where’d you meet her?”

“Oscar’s wedding.”

“That was a couple months ago.  Since when do you keep your girls a secret from me?”

I press my back against the the booth, probably pushing the guy on the other side into his soup.  Even though Gina’s gaze is burning a new hole in my skull, I stack up the little, sealed plastic cups of cream in a tiny pyramid.

“She wasn’t my girl.  We just had a night together,” I say.  I take a glimpse at Gina, her tongue rolling in her cheek.

“A night.  Together,” she repeats.  Then she leans across the table, her chest on her clasped hands.  She whispers, “You didn’t knock somebody up, did you?”

I grimace.  “I did.”

Gina throws her own back against the booth seat.  She crosses her arms on her chest and sticks her thumb nail in her mouth as she stares at me.  The waitress returns again, placing our food on the table.  Gina remains frozen.

“Can I get you anything else?” Duncan asks softly.  I expect her to lay her fingers on my arm.

“No thanks,” I tell her with only a glance.  My gaze returns to Gina’s blazing, laser-beam stare and I catch the waitress’s frown in my peripheral, before she tromps away.

Once she’s out of ear shot, Gina says, “You’re joking, right?  Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh Landon,” she groans.  “Are you going to marry this girl?”

“She doesn’t want that.”

“She’s not getting rid of the baby, is she?”

“I have no idea.”  I take a long drink so neither of us has to talk.  Gina leans back across the table, her whisper hot and angry.

“Are you kidding me?  You of all people?  You’ve been raised better than that.  You remember what happened with Harmony.  You’ve got to do right by this girl.”

“I’m trying,” I tell her.  I swallow the sour knot in my throat.  “I told her I want the baby.  I told her I’d do whatever she wants, if she would just have it.”

“She
wants
to get rid of it?”

“She’s only eighteen.”

“Holy shit.  Are you serious?  You’re six years older than her.”

“I did the math, thanks.”

“I’m just saying. No wonder.  She just got done being a kid herself.”

“That’s the problem.  She doesn’t want the baby because she hasn’t gotten to do anything with her life yet.”

Gina lifts a fry to her mouth. 

“Can’t say as I blame her,” she says, “but, unfortunately, it’s not just about her anymore.  It’s about the kid and what you want too.”

“She doesn’t see it that way.”

“Well, then, you know what you have to do, don’t you?”

“No clue.  I have no clue what to do.”

“It’s simple.  You’ve got to give this girl a life first.  So she can think about giving you one.”

***

Give her a life. 
That’s all Gina gave me to work with.

I go back to my apartment and without Sher there, under my watch, the tick of the seconds-hand on the clock is as good as being water boarded.  I can only stand it for an hour before I call Oscar.

“Hey, buddy,” Oscar sounds like he was expecting the call a while ago.

“Do you know where the girls are at?” I ask.  Damn. I sound so desperate, it’s embarrassing.

“I know they’re not at any clinic, if that helps,” Oscar says. “Last I talked to Hale, they were eating and planning on going from there to a salon, to get their hands and feet painted.”

I finally exhale the breath that has been pressing my lungs up into my nostrils since I got home.

“By the way, Hale’s trying to talk her out of it too,” Oscar says.  So, Sher’s still angling to get to the clinic.  My lungs resume the position, fully inflated and tucked beneath my nostrils, as Oscar continues.  “Hale said it doesn’t sound like Sher’s really committed to getting rid of it.  It sounds like she’s just more frightened of having it.”

“That sounds right,” I tell him.  “I met her mom and saw where they live.  It’s pretty lean.  Single mom with five kids crammed in a two bedroom apartment…I can’t say I blame Sher for wanting to avoid a trip down the same road.”

“Huh,” Oscar says.  “Your mom did it too though, on her own with six kids.  She did a good job.”

“The real difference here is that Sher doesn’t have to do it alone,”  I say.  “I’m not a part-time dad.”

I hear the grin in Oscar’s voice when he replies, “Good man.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE GIGGLE IS WHAT I HEAR FIRST.  Then the rustle of bags, Hale’s laughter, Sher’s talking, the tromp of feet on the stairs.  I swing open the door for them before they can knock.

Sher jumps back.  There’s a hard blush spread across her cheeks, which makes me think of other things.  I smile.

“I don’t have a key,” she stammers.
But she chose to come back.

“We’ll have to fix that,” I say, stepping aside.  The girls come in, walking like ducks, their drying toenails poking out of flip flops.  A weird relief settles in my chest as I watch Sher cross the room.  It’s not just the way her hips move, or how the smell of her drifts past me and pings my dude radar.  There’s something more to it, a calm that permeates the entire room, just because she’s here.

Hale catches my eye and throws me a cheesy grin.  I mouth
what?
to her, but she just shrugs as Sher piles her bags on my couch.

“Mrs. Maree took me shopping,” she says.

“I bought her some pants.” Hale tilts a stern eyebrow at me.  “And they better not go missing.”

I hold up my hands in surprise.  “Strange things keep happening around here.”

“Don’t worry about him.  I told you what I was going to do,” Sher tells her friend.  The giggle.  It’s an amaretto, warming my stomach.

“Yeah, do that.  And the other thing too,” Hale tells her.  Now Sher’s getting the stern eyebrow, which makes me wonder what the other thing might be.  Sher rolls her eyes before returning them to Hale. 

“Thanks for taking me out,” she says.  Hale jumps across the room and wraps her arms around Sher.  As they giggle, they rock each other back and forth, and I can really see how young they are.  They look like little girls in elementary school.  My sister’s advice comes back to me and I nod to no one in the room.

“I love you,” Hale says as they step apart.  “Call me, okay?  A hundred times, if you want.”

“I will.  Because Landon’s giving me back my phone.  Right, Landon?”

“Sure,” I smile. 
We’ll see.

“Okay, McHale’s Navy, you can go home to your
husband
now
,
” Sher says.  She wraps her arms around her own head, embracing an invisible man and kissing him wildly.

“I’m right here,” I joke, but Sher just laughs and slaps Hale on the back.

“Get outta here,” she says and Hale goes, the giggling trailing behind her, until Sher closes the door.  She turns back to me and I’m shocked when her grin doesn’t fade.

“You’re back,” I say.  The grin doesn’t flat line, but it goes a little rigor mortis.  Sher goes to her bags on the couch and rustles through them, her back to me.

“Where else was I going to go?” she asks.

“I don’t know.  I’m just glad you didn’t.”

“You mean, like the clinic.”

“I mean anywhere else.”

“How can you be so…” she pauses, dropping a bag back onto the cushion and looking at the ceiling.  I’m still staring at her back.  Her voice is soft, almost frightened.  “So
into
me, Landon?”

What?  Where did that come from?  I was geared up for a different fight, but her question takes me out at the knees.  She wants to know what she means to me?  Is she considering that?  In two steps, I’m standing right behind her, my fingertips on her elbow.

“It’s not like it’s hard to do,” I say.  “You’re gorgeous.  You’re carrying my baby.  Those things get my attention.”

“And what if one of them was missing?”  A shaky hand smoothes down over her belly.  Oh.  It’s the fat problem.  My sisters were always concerned about every ounce, even though I could never see the difference between their ‘thin’ times or their ‘fat’ times.  Sometimes they got a little curvier, but girls are supposed to be curvy.

“If you were a toad stool, we probably wouldn’t be here to begin with.”  I laugh.  “But if you mean how you’ll change with a baby?  I think pregnancy makes girls even more irresistible.”

“So you have a thing for fat girls.”

“I have a thing for
girls
,” I say.  “And if you’re a pregnant girl, you’re off to a real good start, as far as I’m concerned.”

“But if…” she begins and I step closer.  My front, touching her back, silences her.

“I’m just saying, Sher…it’s harder for me
not
to be into you. The more you’re around, the more I want you to be.  You’re a potato chip.  The more I have, the more I want.”  That’s the truth.  I might not know who this girl is, but I want to.  I want more of that feeling she gave me, when she came into the room after we’d been apart.  She settles everything in my head back into place, just by being here.  Whatever that is, I want it.

I move in even closer, so her back is firmly pressed to me.  A mix of perfumes rises off her and I want other things now too.  I’m sure she can feel it, but she’s tense as guitar strings.  I’m breathing hard enough that strands of her hair flutter off her shoulder.