Songs in Ordinary Time Page 37

  “You did?” she asked, her chest suddenly daggered by all the pain she had suppressed or denied, and here it was, here he was, tearing her apart. No. No. No matter what he said or did, no matter how he explained it, she could not live this way again, leashed to a man’s promises, knowing his every word so much by heart as she fell asleep analyzing a sentence that she would wake up hours later stuck on the exact same word, wondering, had he said this while meaning that, had he forgotten, had he just been too busy, had she misunderstood, oh surely she had misunderstood because he would not lie, because there were times when he seemed to care for her so, because she had tried so hard in so many ways, because she wanted, wanted, wanted, needed to be loved, because she needed…because she…because, because.

  “Oh, you have no idea!” he sighed. “Sometimes in the lectures it got so bad I could barely concentrate.” He glanced back at her. “I just kept thinking about you and the children and this yard and the house, and I’d be wondering how Benjy’s swimming was going and was Alice still coming home so exhausted every night and did Norm still hate my guts, well, not hate”—he chuckled—“maybe resent, which I don’t think will last too too long once he sees my new car, which you are going to love, Marie! It drives like a dream. It just hums along. I can’t wait to see you in it. Truly, it befits you. Oh Marie, I just want the best, the very best for you and the children.”

  Arms folded, she watched him hang the last few towels and washcloths. Every time he bent over, his jacket and shirt hiked up his back. He’d obviously gained weight, while she’d eaten so little this last week that now even the smell of food sickened her. She started toward the house.

  “You forgot your picture,” he said, following her to the door.

  “No,” she said when he reached for the knob.

  “Can’t I come in?” His eyes widened. “I need to see you. I…I need to talk to you.”

  “We’ll have to talk out here,” she said.

  “What’s wrong, Marie?”

  “I want my money back.” Saying it made her knees sag.

  “Why?” He looked stunned. “Why?” he asked again.

  “I trusted you in a way I’ve never trusted anyone in my whole life, and now I feel like such a fool!”

  “Marie!” He put his hands on her shoulders. “What in God’s name is going on here?” His head shot up and he looked past her. “Has someone been around here besmirching my good name? He has, hasn’t he? And you believed it? How could you? How could you? I’m very disappointed!”

  No one had been around. She had no idea what he was talking about, and yet, oddly enough, she found herself on the defensive. She explained how his two-week absence had made her lose trust in him, and now he grew even more upset, wringing his hands and pacing back and forth on the driveway.

  “What could I do? I had no choice. It was business—every waking moment was nothing but seminars and charts and workshops. I don’t know what to say, Marie. I mean you, of all people. You know what this opportunity means to me. To us!” He threw up his hands, and with his back to her, he groaned, “I don’t know. I don’t know what to say.” He looked around. “I thought you had such faith in me. I guess that was my mistake. I just assumed you believed me. I’ve been alone so long I’m just not used to verifying every move. I’m sorry. I had no idea you were so unhappy and so afraid. I feel like such an ass.”

  “I didn’t know where you were!”

  “But I told you where I was!” He came back and stood by the steps. His eyes were bloodshot and weary.

  “Not really. You never really said exactly where, and then you didn’t call again and I got very nervous.” Her voice broke.

  “Well, I’m here now.” He touched her arm. “You don’t have to be nervous anymore.”

  She closed her eyes. She had accused him so many times in her thoughts that now in his presence there seemed nothing more to say.

  “Look what I have.” He was unrolling a piece of parchment. “Your certificate of franchise. See,” he said, pointing as he presented it to her. “That’s Roy Gold’s signature.”

  She looked up, her heart pounding. “But it only says one franchise. I gave you money for two. That’s what you said.” He grabbed it back and his look of shock frightened her.

  “Damn,” he said, examining the document. “It’s a good thing you caught that, it got right by me. It’s just one of those clerical errors a phone call’ll clear up in two seconds flat.” He sighed. “You don’t believe that, either, do you?”

  “I want to believe you,” she said.

  He leaned so close that she thought he was going to kiss her right out here in full view of Jessie Klubock’s kitchen window.

  “Can I come in, then?” he asked.

  So far Marie had managed to ignore Norm’s sullenness as he hunched over his plate. Actually it was Benjy who was putting a strain on the conversation right now. She wasn’t even sure what Omar had just said, just some lighthearted remark, but Benjy was doubled over, his high-pitched laughter nervous and throbbing with eagerness.

  “Somebody better do something, I think he’s choking,” Norm mumbled, not even looking up.

  Benjy’s laughter ceased so abruptly that his mouth still twitched. He kept blinking, and his hands shook as he cut his hamburg patty into tiny pieces.

  In the fork-clinking silence her eyes met Norm’s.

  Omar slapped the table with both hands. “Well, what do you say, boys? Who wants to drive my brand-new Cadillac?”

  Norm’s head shot up. “New?”

  Omar chuckled. “Well, new for me’s new enough.”

  “Go ahead, Norm,” she urged. Omar was trying so hard. It was true, he wasn’t used to the complexities of family life. “Just go for a quick spin, why don’t you?”

  “I can’t.” Norm sucked loudly on his cornless cob. “I’m going somewhere.”

  “I wish I could drive,” Benjy said, looking between her and Omar with that forced smile.

  “Yah, and that’ll be another disaster just like swimming,” Norm said, with a smirk for her benefit. After Benjy’s fall into the pool, she hadn’t made him go back. She knew she should have. She’d always made Alice and Norm face their fears, but with Omar gone she’d been too frightened herself, too drained.

  “There’s a time to reap and a time to sow,” Omar was saying, “and this just may not be Benjy’s time to swim.” He smiled at Benjy. “But it’ll come, mark my words. When the time’s right, he’ll be ready.”

  She looked at Benjy, wishing it was so, but he was too much his father’s son.

  Outside, Klubocks’ dog had been barking. Now the barking intensified with a sudden knock on the back door.

  “I never even heard them!” Norm said, jumping up.

  Omar leaned back and opened the door. Weeb Miller and Tommy Mullins glanced in nervously at Norm, who started toward them.

  “Well, hello, young men, come in! Come in. My name,” he said, extending his hand, “is Omar Duvall.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Weeb said, blushing as they shook hands. He introduced himself as Lawrence, a name Marie hadn’t heard him use in years. The other boy, who was as tall as Omar, was a jiggle of soft flesh. Though she hadn’t seen him in a long time, Marie recognized him by the purple birthmark on his upper lip.

  “This is Tommy Mullins,” Weeb said, introducing his friend, who nodded and rubbed his arm as he shuffled forward to shake Omar’s hand. His parents had sent him away to prep school, but she could see it obviously hadn’t had any maturing effect on Tommy, who stammered halting replies to Omar’s pleasant questions. He kept glancing miserably at Norm.

  “We better get going,” Norm said. He flipped a cookie and Weeb caught it.

  “You look like an athlete, young man,” Omar said.

  Weeb shrugged and shook his head in flattered denial. “Norm’s the jock. I just kinda goof around.”

  “Well, be that as it may, you’ve got one of those frames that’s all muscle and tendon,” Omar said.


  Mouth agape, Norm rolled his eyes. “We better get going,” he said again.

  But Omar was asking Weeb how he’d been spending his summer.

  “Sleeping,” Weeb said, laughing, then, with a glance at Marie, he added, “I got ten lawns I cut.”

  “That’s why you’re in such good shape,” Omar said, and now he asked Tommy.

  “I work for my father,” Tommy said. “He has the bakery on Beecham Street.”

  “Yah, he’s the head muffin man. Can’t you tell?” Weeb laughed with a jab at Tommy’s belly.

  “Hey, somebody’s gotta do quality control,” Tommy sniffed, and they all laughed, all but Norm. “Muffins just happen to be my specialty.”

  “And specialization, as we all know, is the future, now, isn’t it?” Omar said. “I myself am involved in cleaning products, the marketing of soap and other various cleansers and detergents, both commercial and domestic.”

  “That must be interesting,” Weeb said, shuffling his feet. He and Tommy Mullins looked at Norm, who waited at the door.

  “You know, it is,” Omar mused. “It’s not the product. It’s the people you meet. Let me tell you, young men, you ever get a few dollars together and want to be your own boss, you just give me a call, now. I mean that. Seriously. Or your mothers and fathers. Maybe you could even give them these,” he said, taking pamphlets from his breast pocket and handing them to the boys. “Tell me, Lawrence, what line of work’s your dad in?”

  “He’s a federal VD inspector.” Weeb laughed.

  The boys exchanged glances.

  “Well, isn’t that interesting,” Omar said. He was staring at Norm. “I wouldn’t imagine you’d find too many of them around,” he said to Norm.

  Marie felt bad. Omar obviously thought the boys were putting one over on him.

  “I don’t know,” Norm said, glancing past Omar, who continued to stare at him. “C’mon, we gotta go now,” he said to Weeb and Tommy, who hurried after him.

  The look of dread on Benjy’s face startled her, and she realized he was afraid of losing Omar, afraid Norm would drive him away. “Steve Miller really is a VD inspector,” she told Omar, and Benjy winced.

  “Is he now,” Omar mused as he watched them through the window.

  “He’s always kept it real low key, but the boys are right at that age. I think they have a lot of fun with it.”

  “Umm.” He nodded, turning. “I’ll bet they do.” He mussed Benjy’s hair. “I’ll just bet they do, now.”

  Later, when Benjy had gone to bed, she and Omar sat on the couch watching television. With Omar’s arms around her and her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes, grateful for this rare time alone before Norm brought Alice home from work.

  “You’re a wonderful woman,” Omar sighed.

  As she leaned closer, her hand pressed down on a metal ring. Thinking something was caught in the cushions she gave it a tug. She had pulled a black lace garter belt from his pocket.

  “Oh Lord,” he groaned. “Now you’ve seen it.”

  “What is it?” There was a store tag attached.

  “So now I have to give it to you. Here,” he said, also removing a black bra from the same pocket. “I bought them, but then I was too embarrassed to give them to you. So here,” he said, holding them out with his eyes closed.

  “Oh. Oh no. Oh dear,” she giggled, dangling the bra in front of her.

  “Now don’t make me feel any more foolish than I already do,” he pleaded, his head turned.

  “It’s so big!” She burst out laughing. “It’s huge!”

  “Well, pardon my inadequate powers of estimation,” he said, turning back. “But how would I know?” His mouth moved close to hers. “How on earth would I know, dear lady?”

  Benjy was halfway down the stairs when he stopped, surprised to see Omar asleep on the couch, where he must have spent the night.

  “Take him somewhere,” he heard his mother saying as she stood at the counter wrapping sandwiches for herself and Norm to take to work.

  “Where?” Norm asked from the table, his mouth full of cereal.

  “I don’t know. Anywhere. You’re his brother and you never spend any time with him. He’s alone too much.”

  “Then why are you letting him quit swimming lessons?” Norm shot back. “Just because he said so?”

  Wincing, Benjy froze on the steps.

  “Because he’s a nervous wreck,” his mother said. “He almost drowned.”

  “And next time he probably will if he doesn’t learn how. He’s got to—especially if he’s afraid. Mom, you’re the one that taught me that!”

  “Look, Norm, right now I can only do so much, do you understand?”

  “No! No, I don’t. Not about something as important as that, anyway,” Norm said, his voice rising.

  In the pause, Benjy held his breath.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what,” his mother said. “After work today you take Benjy to the lake and you teach him how to swim!” Her car keys jingled, and she opened the door.

  “The lake! But at night just couples go there, Mom! Dates!”

  “Just do it!” she ordered, then rushed out to the car.

  “Yah, so you can do it with the peddler,” Norm muttered, hurrying after her so he wouldn’t have to walk to work.

  Benjy glanced down at Omar, embarrassed to see him awake. He must have heard what Norm had just said.

  “C’mere, son,” Omar said as he sat up. “You know there’s other things to do at the lake besides swimming.” He reached for his pants and took five dollar bills from his pocket. “Here,” he said, winking. “Maybe with this you can call your own shots.”

  It was late afternoon. Alice had left for work and Benjy was in the backyard. There was still an hour left before he met Norm at his mother’s office for their trip to the lake. Over in the Klubocks’ yard Louie and a friend were on their knees pushing trucks through the grass. Klubocks’ dog came toward him, limping the way he did when he first got up. “Good boy,” Benjy said, rubbing his flanks. If it was his dog he’d let him live in the house and not outside all year long. He threw a stick and the dog dove into the deep grass, then raced back with it. He found a dingy tennis ball in the washing machine box, and he threw it high in the air. It hit the ground and bounced, and the dog leaped straight up and caught it. He took the slimy ball from the dog’s mouth and threw it as far as he could toward the woods. The dog shot after it. Look at that, he thought, smiling. All he needed was some attention to make him think he was a young dog again. A few minutes passed; then the dog came trotting back with something flopping in his mouth. Stepping closer, he saw that it was a shoe, a stained leather shoe. Earlie’s shoe, he knew from the smell. “Give it to me!” he cried, trying to pry it from the struggling dog’s muzzle, but the dog wanted to play. “I said give it to me!” he repeated, and when the dog continued to pull away, he slapped the side of his head as hard as he could. The dog growled and he yanked away the shoe. The smell was so disgusting that he had to hold his breath to keep from passing out as he threw it into the garage and locked the door. When he turned around, the dog was gone.

  “You hit my dog!” Louie was shouting from his yard. “I’m gonna tell my mother on you, and you’re gonna be in big trouble!”

  Convinced that the dog had returned to the woods for the dead man’s other shoe, Benjy ran down the street. No, no, no, he panted, needing to outrun that dark mass of swelling flesh, the secret rooted in his brain. He didn’t stop until he was downtown.

  He turned the corner to the sporting goods store, grateful that Mr. Briscoe’s car wasn’t in the parking lot. He hurried through the dim warehouse to his mother’s office. Astrid smiled as he stepped inside. In the spill of fluorescent light, she was a dazzle of red lips, glistening skin, and platinum hair. The top of her sundress was a weave of gold-threaded red straps. Her desk was a colorful litter of plastic flowers, statuettes, paperweights, and pictures. On Astrid’s side of the filing cabinet there was a
mosaic of movie magazine clippings of Bobby Darin, who had bought her a drink once in Las Vegas.

  “So, Benjy, I heard the good news!” she said, punching numbers into her adding machine. The long strip of paper curled onto the floor. “School’s opening a month early—next week, I think they said.” Pausing, she glanced up. “Jeez, didn’t anyone tell you?”

  Stunned, he shook his head.

  “Aw, they probably just didn’t want to spoil your last few days of freedom.” She pulled the strip of paper close and examined it, then jumped up and wiggled over to him on her high red heels. “Jeez, that went over like a lead balloon,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. Even in heels she wasn’t that much taller than he was. Her breath hit his face with the warmth of spicy flowers. “I was kidding. I was just kidding.” She shook him and he tried to smile.

  She opened the top drawer of her desk and slid out a box of pink peppermints. “Don’t be so polite,” she said when he only took one. “Here,” she said, slipping four more into his pants pocket; then, hearing his mother come through the warehouse, she scurried into her chair. She winked and he could feel himself blushing.

  Right after his mother came back into the office, Norm arrived, looking as hot and tired as his mother. Benjy could see her grow more irritated as Astrid kept interrupting her. Fearing a blowup, he fixed on his mother’s every word, nodding intently, as if his concentration might shield Astrid. His mother was explaining that he and Norm were to eat at the hotdog stand on the beach and not at the hotel because that food was too expensive.

  “What the hay, live it up!” Astrid laughed. “Don’t listen to her. Have some fun!”

  “The blanket’s in the car,” his mother continued, trying to ignore her. “Here’s your money.”

  “Thanks,” Norm said, looking down at the two dollars. “It’ll be a big night.”

  “Don’t look so miserable,” Astrid said, throwing her arm over his shoulder. “Maybe you’ll meet some cute girls. Do a little dancing, a little…stargazing?” She laughed.