Читать книгу The Object Of Love - Sharon Cullars - Страница 12

“Lacey! What happened to your lovely roses?” Of course, her mother would come to the back door today of all days. Which meant she had seen the debris that Lacey meant to rake up in the yard. Her mother stood on the back porch, looking at the mess, her face in shock.

“Come in, Mom. Don’t worry about that.”

As the older woman entered the kitchen, she immediately took in Sean standing at the cutting island. He had been slicing tomatoes for the salad, but at her mother’s question, he stopped and looked at Lacey with a puzzled stare.

“What do you mean ‘don’t worry about it?’ All those beautiful roses, the whole bushes, have been torn down. The porch looks absolutely naked. What happened?” Her mother’s eyes were still focused on Sean, as though he were somehow responsible. And Sean was still staring at Lacey.

“I’ve decided to make some changes around here. Anyway, those bushes were way too overgrown. It’s time I planted something new, something different. I’m also thinking about painting the porch, too.”

Her mother looked at her as though she had sprouted appendages from the head. Still, the older woman said nothing. She peered at Sean again.

Lacey wiped her hand on the dish towel she had been about to pitch to the side for the laundry. “Mom, this is Sean Logan. He and Cal practically grew up together. I think you met him a few times when he was younger. Sean, this is my mother, Mrs. Coleman.”

Lacey’s mother took a seat at the kitchen table, laid her purse to the side. “You’re the young man from the cemetery.”

“Uh, yeh…nice to meet you.” He looked uncomfortable, as though slicing tomatoes in Lacey’s kitchen was akin to committing some felony…or a misdemeanor, at least.

“I see you’re making salad,” her mother said to him, then turned to her. “Nice of him.”

After forty-odd years, Lacey knew the subtext of her mother’s benign comments. Just as Ray had done earlier, she was questioning the situation. Lacey couldn’t understand what the fuss was about. Sean had been in this house nearly a thousand times, had almost grown up in it along with Cal. There was nothing unusual about his being here.

“Yes, it’s very nice of him to help make your lunch. You want endives in your salad?”

Her mother cut her a look, the same look she used to give the teenaged Lacey when she’d said something smart-alecky. It used to make Lacey want to slink away, although the stubbornness she’d inherited from her father often countered her fear. She still had that stubbornness, and she held a conversation of eyes with her mother.

“Well?” Lacey pressed for an answer.

From the corner of her eye, Lacey saw that Sean had gone back to cutting the tomatoes. She also knew he was listening intently, waiting for a cue from either mother or daughter to make himself scarce.

“Endives would be fine.”

Lacey smiled. “Good. Sean, endives, please. Mom, you can sit here and relax while I get the fish going.”

She had the skillet on the range, the fish floured and seasoned. Like her mother used to do, and her grandmother before her, she had also doused the fish in cornmeal for added texture. She poured the canola oil in the skillet, laid the fish in, and immediately the familiar briny, spicy smell began to fill the kitchen. She pointedly ignored her mother, whom she had no doubt was staring from Sean to her.

Why was it everyone’s immediate assumption that a male and female staying under the same roof must be sleeping together? And the thought of her and Sean together was ridiculous. She was twice his age, which made him just a kid. Well, not exactly a kid; still, the idea wasn’t even to be entertained.

She was simply doing him…and Joan…a favor. And he was proving useful in exchange.

She turned and found him adding endives to the salad. Then he began slicing up the cucumber he’d retrieved from the refrigerator. His motions were deft, quick. Much like a chef’s.

“I spoke with Joe this morning,” her mother offered. “He’s not doing so well.”

Lacey lowered the fire, turned to her mother. “Is it his heart again?” Joe had suffered a mild heart attack nearly two years ago, but with a restrictive diet and regular medication, had just about recovered.

“I don’t think so. I think…well…with Calvin’s death and all…he’s going through a slight depression. That’s never good on the body.”

“I have to call him. Invite him over for dinner tomorrow, maybe.”

“That might do him some good. Still…it’s going to take some time. For all of us.”

Lacey peered at her mother, really seeing her since she had walked into the house. Noticed that her body wasn’t as erect as before. Her pallor was a little grayish and there were circles beneath her eyes. She always got those when she wasn’t sleeping well.

“Maybe you and Estelle can come over, as well. It’ll do us all good to be together. You know.”

Her mother nodded, smiled. “I know.” Then, looking at Sean, “So, Sean…may I call you Sean…” and not waiting for an answer, “where do you usually stay?”

Sean had finished cutting the cucumber and was tossing the mixture. “I stay in Muncie, Indiana.”

“And what do you do in Muncie?”

“Mom, lay off the questions, OK? Sean isn’t here to be grilled. He came for the funeral and is staying just another day, then he’s going back. To Muncie.”

Despite her protest, Lacey had been tempted to let her mother continue the questions. Her mother had a way of getting information out of people that would have been suitable to Gestapo tactics. Lord knew, she’d pulled enough secrets from Lacey during her younger years. Had made Lacey’s growing up an exercise in evasive maneuvering in order just to have a life. Still, she wouldn’t sic her mother on Sean. He was an enigma, but that was his business. If he wanted to tell them about his life, then he would. Still, she had to admit she was curious.

If he wasn’t going to school, then what was he doing? And in Muncie, no less. How did he support himself? What plans did he have for the future? Why had he moved from Canada back to the States, away from Joan?

Lacey mentally shook away the questions. It was as though she wanted to step in as a surrogate mother. Because she still needed to be a mom, still needed to care about someone, to watch them become a fully realized adult, to see their dreams fulfilled. She couldn’t do that for Cal any longer. And she had to fight the lure of stepping past the boundaries Sean had set, to see him…well, happy. Throughout the years she had known him, she’d been able to count on two hands the number of times she’d seen him smile. Even now, she still sensed a deeper layer of melancholy. But then again, that may have been due to Calvin’s death. And all those missed opportunities to reconcile.

Calvin had rarely mentioned Sean in the intervening years, and the few times she brought up Sean’s name, Cal had snapped at her. And she had snapped back at his impudence. “Why this rift, Cal? What the hell went down between you two?”

But her son had been as reticent as Sean was being.

She had long ago given up trying to find out what had happened between her son and his former friend. Maybe it was for the best.

Some things were better not known.

Calvin Devonne Burnham. A couple of times, he had nearly forgotten his own name. He didn’t know whether that was a sign he was moving on…or simply fading away. He had given up on the idea of heaven or hell. Yet, if he was to slip into nothingness, he would rather it happen soon. Now, even. That would be so much better than watching Sean sitting with his mother and grandmother at the kitchen table, looking like he belonged there. Belonged in this house. His grandmother was actually smiling at the motherf…mother-fuc…He paused, shook his head. He was losing words. Losing memories. He pressed hard to grab on to one, to anything.

Then, thankfully, they began to come to him, one after another, not fully crystallized, but defined enough to help him focus. He remembered his father pushing him on one of the kiddie swings in Taylor Park. Remembered gripping hard to the chain and laughing harder as he swung to the sky. He remembered his mother holding his hand as they stood in line to get tickets to see a Care Bear movie. He had loved the Care Bears. Although, a few years later he would pretend that he had never seen or read anything remotely similar about fuzzy bears, no matter how much his mother pressed with an “Oh c’mon, Cal, you remember how much you adored the Care Bears?” Thankfully, she had never questioned him about it in front of his friends.

His mother had been cool like that. So had his Gram, Aunt Estelle, and especially Uncle Joe.

He was sad to hear that Joe wasn’t doing that well. All because of him.

And Gram wasn’t looking good, either. Yet she managed to smile at something Sean said, and some of her sadness seemed to fall away.

Sean had a way of making females smile.

Another memory. A party. Cal had been about fourteen, Sean fifteen. Cal’s mom had gone to the movies on one of her very few dates. Some loser with a balding head, and the mistaken belief that a pink shirt and purple tie meshed. Cal had waited until he heard the front door shut behind them. He could hear his mother laughing at some lame joke her date was telling. He also could tell by the sound of her laugh that she really didn’t find the joke funny, that she was just being polite.

He’d called Sean minutes after.

“I heard Cheryl’s got something on tonight. Bunch of folk gonna be there. I betcha Suz is, too. Wanna go?”

He’d heard Sean’s pause. “I don’t think so, man. My father’s been at it again.”

“More reason to get outta the house.”

“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say. If my old man finds me gone, he’s gonna explode.”

“So, what you do is wait ’til he passes out. You know the drill. He’ll probably be out all night, so you’re home free. Besides, Cheryl’s parents are out of town, so you know that party is gonna go on into the morning. Man, c’mon, let’s go.”

“What about your mom?”

“She’s on some lame date tonight. Besides, I got the bed made up with pillows. She’ll think I’m sleeping. And later, I can sneak back in through the window. She’ll never know. C’mon, no excuses, man. Let’s go.”

It hadn’t taken much to convince Sean. Especially if it meant a few hours away from home, which Cal knew was pretty messed up. There were things Sean wouldn’t let on, but Cal had figured out anyway. Some really mean bruises Sean had tried to keep hidden that Cal had peeped. Sometimes, they’d be so bad, Sean would wait out the other guys in the showers after gym before he’d take off his clothes.

Cal had ridden his bike over to Cheryl’s house, which had been streaming with kids hanging out on the lawn, the back deck, and pool. Lights blazed, music blared, but not to a screeching pitch; Cheryl knew enough not to piss her neighbors off too much—otherwise the cops would be called and there’d be a lot of explaining to do to her parents. Riding up, he saw Sean parking his Honda CB at the curb. The sleek black-and-silver body drew some of the more mercenary skanks looking for a ride later. Sean gave them a ready smile that transformed his face, made him look like one of those Hollywood princes that girls dropped their panties for. And definitely, Sean had the offers. Sometimes he took them up on it, “par-taking of the freebies,” as Cal liked to put it. Mostly fun fucks, nothing serious, unless one counted Suzanne, the only one that Sean showed any kind of longevity with.

Sean trooped through the groupies to where Cal was waiting.

“Let’s see who’s here,” Sean said, already heading for the door. Cal eagerly followed behind. Although he was a year younger, he stood as tall as Sean, both of them towering over even some of the seniors at Milliard High. Wherever one of them went, the other was expected to be along. Like brothers.

Inside, the smell of marijuana was strong. Couples in some serious lip-locks littered the hallways and stairway. He and Sean nearly tripped over a pair that was lounging on the floor.

Sean looked around and Cal knew he was scoping for Suzanne. No wonder. The girl was a definite babe, with a mass of tangled curls all down her back. She also had a delicious set of nougats that Cal had on more than one occasion imagined sucking into oblivion. But in the mass of blonds and brunettes, there was no sign of a redhead anywhere. One particular blond detached herself from a pawing admirer and headed straight for Sean. She wobbled as she advanced; Cheryl never could hold her liquor well. She had a whole bottle in her hand and had probably already polished off half. She stepped to Sean with a silly grin, her lipstick smudged, her upper lip bruised, indicating she had already been at work.

“Seaaanniieee, heyyyy, so glad you coul’ make…it,” she hiccupped at Sean, then dropped her bottle and reached over greedy hands to attach to his shoulders, placing her stewed breath in his face. Cal could smell her standing right next to Sean, feeling patently ignored. Sean, with a half smile, backed up his face, being diplomatic. “Hey, Cheryl. Cal and me thought we’d check out the party.”

“Real party hasn’t started yet. Now that you here, we can get it going. C’mon,” she nodded to the stairs.

The straps of her small tee-shirt were half down her arms, giving a view of her moderately small but firm breasts. Cal thought he spotted a hickey on one of them.

She was raring to go. One of her hands felt its way down Sean’s stomach, attached itself to his package.

“Hey, let’s not go there, Cheryl, OK?”

Cheryl laughed. “Oh, c’mon. Suzie Q isn’t even here. And nobody’s gonna tell.” She turned to Cal. “You gonna tell, Cal, sweetie?”

“Who, me? Hell, naw,” Cal had offered with a smile, wishing to hell that Cheryl would give him such a reception, drunken or not. He sure as hell wouldn’t be turning her down. Which Sean was obviously doing, as he extracted himself from her grasp.

“Maybe some other time, Cheryl. I’m gonna grab me a beer or something. Got any eats around?”

Cheryl looked at him with disgust. “If that’s all you came for, you can take your ass back where you came from.”

Cal had cursed beneath his breath. He’d wanted to stay long enough to get some action going with someone. Why did Sean have to be a drag and piss Cheryl off? Anybody else would’ve taken her up on her invitation…no big deal.

He could see that Sean was angry. “Hey, you want me gone, that’s all you had to say. I’m outta here.”

And Sean had walked to the door, leaving Cal standing there, torn between loyalty and the pull of a good time. It wasn’t often he got to sneak out to a party. His mother wasn’t even home yet. Damn.

In the end, Cheryl decided for him.

“You can leave, too, Cal. Everybody knows you’re Sean’s right nut. Where he goes, you’re right there hanging.”

Cal didn’t know he had struck out until he saw a trickle of blood running from her nose. Goddamn! He’d slapped the shit out of her.

And it had felt good.

Next thing he knew, Sean had come back and was pulling at his arm. “C’mon, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

Sean dragged him through the curious bodies gathering around, rabid for a good fight. And both of them left, knowing it would be a long time before Cheryl would want to see either one of their faces around. Which was too bad. Because she threw some killer parties.

And yet, the next day at school, Cheryl had sidled up to Sean at his locker with a large smile, his rejection conveniently forgotten. Of course, she’d ignored Cal standing there.

It was always like that with the girls. There was nothing Sean could do to stay permanently on their shit list. All of them eager to get in his pants, to brag about their conquest.

All of them eager to smile in his face.

Calvin watched his mother as she sat watching Sean. Although she wasn’t smiling, the intensity of her look was the same as those on the faces of the girls who used to hang around Sean, hoping he would suddenly notice them. Cal rounded the table to see from an angle, to follow where his mother’s eyes held. At times, she seemed almost mesmerized by Sean’s eyes as he spoke of his mother and his years in Vancouver. He actually seemed animated as he told about how the winters got so cold there that tears actually froze on your face. His grandmother laughed but his mother remained silent, never pulling away from blue eyes that seemed to focus for uncomfortable lengths of time on her own. Cal felt a tenseness that belied the fact he no longer had a body. It was almost as though he felt the blood rushing to his face, his heart beating faster. If he could still feel it pounding, he would probably now be experiencing tremors as he watched his mother’s eyes move to Sean’s lips, linger there a fraction too long. If that weren’t bad enough, he looked from his mother to Sean and saw that Sean had noticed the direction of his mother’s focus before she could recall it quickly. Saw a quiet blush color his cheeks. Then he had the nerve to let his own eyes wander—to her lips. And unlike his mother’s nonexpression, Sean’s face read like a lurid novel. He let his eyes go farther down, just for a moment, to settle on her breasts.

Motherfucker. The word that had escaped him moments before thrummed in his head. If he didn’t stop this shit now, Sean would literally become a mother-fucker, fucking Cal’s mother right before his eyes. And worse still, Cal had a gnawing suspicion that his mother would let him.

The thought of the two of them fucking, their bodies pumping together, sweaty and heaving, stopped his breath. Or what passed for breath in his noncorporeal form. He actually felt the coldness of dread.

No, fuck, no! That wasn’t gonna happen. Not here, not ever.

Now he knew why he had not gone on to wherever dead folks go.

He was here to stop this unnatural thing that threatened everything he had ever known.

He rounded the table until he stood behind Sean. He stood there, concentrated with all his focus. Then reached out his hand.

And was rewarded when Sean jumped a little. Finally, contact.

Cal tried to do it again, to make Sean feel him. But this time, his hand only went through Sean’s shoulder, as insubstantial as it had been before.

Still, he was progressing, if slower than he wanted.

He tried again with his mother. But like the many times before, he was unable to touch her because of that damned invisible barrier. It was as though something was trying to keep him from her.

He walked over to his grandmother, gently touched her arm. And just like with Sean, his hand went through.

That’s why he drew back in shock when she suddenly stood up and exclaimed, “Oh, my God! Calvin’s here! He’s in this room!”