by Gail Dayton
Marilyn punched him lightly in the side. "Fourteen years is not the same as three."
"It's better." He kissed her neck as they entered the bedroom with the big bed, and balked. "Hey, it's not going to bother you, is it? Sleeping in here with me? I mean--" Eli gestured at the bed, the one where she'd slept with her husband.
She paused, considered, then shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I've been sleeping here alone for four years. It's just my bed now. Why? Does it bother you?"
Did it? Eli thought for about two seconds. "Nope. Long as you're there with me, I don't much care where it is."
She rummaged in a wide dresser, looking through several drawers before pulling out a long nylon gown. Then she went still in her own turn. "Do you mind if--if we just sleep?"
"Sure, babe." He struggled out of his T-shirt. He almost had the process down now. "If that's what you want."
He got in bed beside her, resigned to a lonely night in the wide bed when she surprised him by sliding over next to him.
"Hold me?" She lifted her head so he could slide his arm beneath it.
"Any time, babe. Any time."
Eli came awake fast, blinking in the bar of light that fell across his eyes as he sat up. He heard noises. Downstairs.
He slid out of bed, managing to keep from waking Marilyn, and hitched up his shorts--first time he'd worn them to bed in a week. He wondered where his crutch was as he headed downstairs to investigate. He'd brought it inside, he was sure. Left it by the front door, maybe. The crutch wouldn't work as well as a baseball bat, but it would do, provided he could get to it. He picked it up on his way through the foyer to the kitchen, and found Pete rummaging in the cabinets for breakfast.
"Man, there's nothin' to eat. What kind of girlfriend you got, doesn't have food?" Pete demanded.
He still wore only his long-sleeved T-shirt and plain white briefs. He'd insisted on the switch from Spiderman Underoos when he started first grade, because all the other boys had plain whitie tighties. Eli had mailed a package of six from Boise after that phone call.
"Let me see." Eli started opening cabinets at random, finding a smattering of soup and vegetable cans, a box of very stale cereal and little else. "We haven't been staying here," he said. "All the food's at the apartment."
"She has a house and an apartment?" Pete said, sounding awed.
"Well...yeah." It was pretty impressive now he thought about it. He opened the freezer. "There's a box of frozen waffles. Didn't I see some syrup?"
"Yeah, great!" Pete climbed up on the counter top to get the syrup from an upper shelf, too eager to wait for Eli.
Eli started opening cabinets looking for a toaster when the doorbell rang. "You find the toaster," he said. "I'll go see who's at the door at--" he checked the clock on the stove, "at nine o'clock on a Thursday morning."
Before he could reach the door, just as he walked into the foyer, a key turned in the lock and the front door started to open.
"Yoo-hoo, Marilyn!" The call came through the first crack of the door.
Eli froze in place. He knew that voice. And here he stood in the foyer wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and two plaster casts. Half-panicked, he looked over his shoulder at Marilyn coming down the stairs just pulling on a robe. Should he stay? Go? What did she want him to do?
Then the answer became moot as the door opened fully and Marilyn's mother stepped into the house.
Seventeen
***
It was like something out of a horror movie, Marilyn thought later, all of them standing there motionless. Her mother looked up from wiping her feet on the mat, bundled in her coat and scarf. Her jaw dropped to the floor like she'd just seen a mummy dripping with rot, plus a vampire, plus Freddy Kruger all lined up in front of her.
Then there was Eli, next thing to naked in his washed-thin gym shorts, looking like he didn't know whether to fight or flee, frozen motionless while he made up his mind. Last of all, Marilyn stood on the stairs caught between one step and the next, wearing only her ancient robe and nightgown, thinking she should have been much more careful about what she wished for because this was not going to be any fun at all.
Icy air wafted through the almost-shut front door and shivered Marilyn into action. "If you're going to barge into my house without calling or waiting for someone to open the door, Mother, you could at least shut the door after you come in," she said, as she came down the rest of the way and pushed the door closed.
"What's he doing here?" Mom demanded.
"What are you doing here?" Marilyn demanded back. "I thought you disowned me."
"I thought you'd come to your senses." Mom glared at Eli, probably hoping her glare would vaporize him. "When Joey said you were moving home, I just knew my prayers were answered. But I guess I was wrong."
"Just because God didn't answer the way you wanted doesn't mean they weren't answered."
"Hey, Eli--I mean, Dad--" Pete came skittering into the foyer, sliding in his socks on the hardwood floor before grabbing Eli's broken arm as a brake. "I can't find a toaster. How can we cook waffles without a toaster?"
"Easy, squirt." Eli disconnected Pete's hands from the cast. "Let it finish healing before you try breaking it again."
Marilyn glanced from Pete to her mother and stayed for a longer look. Mom had gone pale, shaky fingers hiding her mouth.
Eli turned Pete toward the stairs by his shoulders and sent him up with a swat on the rump. "Go get dressed. We'll work it out. Have I ever let you go hungry?"
Pete grinned, sneaking curious glances at Marilyn's mother now that he had noticed someone else was there. "Okay. Dad." And he thundered up the stairs making as much noise as he possibly could, stomping twice on the stairs that creaked.
"Where--?" Mom stammered. "What--? Who--?"
"That's Pete," Eli said. "My son. Marilyn offered to--" He stopped, his gaze fixed on her. Was he afraid she'd start crying again?
She probed tender wounds. A little misty-eyed, she decided but not in danger of outright tears. "I opened the house so we'd have room for Pete to stay with us."
"Marilyn--" Mom advanced.
Marilyn held her ground. She wasn't about to retreat. Not anymore.
"Marilyn?" Eli called her attention. "Want me to stay?"
She shook her head. "Go get Pete fed. Take the car. There's a bagel shop on Morrison at the bottom of the hill."
His eyes asked if she was sure about the car, but he only nodded as he headed upstairs to get dressed.
"Now I know you're crazy," Mom hissed. "Bringing that boy in this house. Haven't you had enough grief?"
"Yes, Mom, I have. Enough that I think I deserve a little happiness."
"You're not going to get it from them. They're not our kind of people. You can tell it just by looking."
Marilyn opened her mouth to defend Eli and his son, then sighed. She was tired of defending herself. It never did any good anyway. Nobody ever listened to anything she had to say.
"Think whatever you want, Mom," she said. "Eli and Pete are staying. I want them to stay. So, if you can't deal with that, if you can't be happy that I'm doing my best to find my way back to living, then maybe you ought to go."
She turned and walked away, back to the stairs. She needed a shower.
"I don't understand what happened to you, Marilyn." The tears in her mother's voice set little barbed fish hooks in her heart.
"Did you even try?" Marilyn paused but didn't look back. "Did you ever once listen, truly listen to what I've said? Regardless of what you may think, Mom, your opinion doesn't come straight from God's lips."
Pete came pounding down the stairs, a shoe in each hand, his hair sticking straight up in front, combed the way Eli combed his. "Hey, Marilyn, Eli says we're going for bagels. Want to come?"
She smiled, tears of memory, of other mornings and other bagels, rising at his enthusiasm. "No, thanks. You two bring something back for me, okay?"
"Sure." He plunked down on the step to yank his s
hoes on, then grabbed his coat and ran out the door without bothering to tie the laces.
"He's going to break your heart," Mom warned.
"It's my heart. I thought you were leaving."
"You're throwing me out of your house?"
Marilyn sighed. She did not want to get into yet another fight. "Stay and have bagels with us, if that's what you want. I don't care. But if you stay, I don't want to hear another nasty word about Eli. Or Pete."
Finally she turned around to face her mother. "I'm not throwing you out, Mom. But I am making clear the conditions you and everybody else will follow if you want to be welcome here. I don't want hateful people full of nasty comments in my house."
"You're my daughter, Marilyn. I love you. I'm only trying to keep you from making a horrible mistake."
"I appreciate the fact that you think you're doing what's best. Obviously we don't agree on what that is, and since it's my life, I'm the one who gets to choose. You're not going to change my mind. I'm not going to change yours, so there it is. What are we going to do about it?"
Mom stood in the foyer, her mouth opening and closing like a landed fish.
Marilyn took a deep breath. "Tell you what, Mom. Eli and Pete are going to get breakfast. I'm going to go get in the shower. While we're out of the way, you think about whether you can live with my conditions. If you can't--"
She paused to get a grip on her voice. "Well, I'm real sorry about that. I love you, Mom, and I love Julie, too. But I can't spend the rest of my life mourning Bill the way you want me to. He's dead. I'm not. I have to live my life my way. Not yours."
"Marilyn--"
"I'm going to take my shower. If you're still here when I get out, we can talk then."
"I don't--Marilyn!" Mom followed her to the stairs.
She didn't wait. She'd had enough. More than enough.
Eli came out of the bedroom pulling on his jacket and met her halfway down the stairs with a quick kiss. "Any particular kind of bagel you prefer?"
"I can't face onion this early in the day, but they're good for lunch. Whatever they've got is fine." She plucked one of her long dark hairs from his jacket. "Pete's outside, probably frothing at the mouth to get going."
Eli chuckled. "Okay, I can take a hint." He kissed her again, slipping his arm cast behind her to pull her in tight against him. "My favorite breakfast," he murmured, kissing his way to her ear. "Warm woman."
"Behave yourself." Marilyn wriggled away, laughing. "Or I'll have garlic cream cheese and lox with that onion bagel and you won't want to kiss me for days."
"Won't bother me." Eli winked at her. "I'm twenty-five, remember? Nothing much puts me off." He leaned in for another kiss.
"You're putting on all this show for me?" Mom spoke from downstairs and Eli froze in mid-kiss. Marilyn wanted to scream with frustration. "You think seeing you act all lovey-dovey will make me change my mind? It makes me sick to my stomach."
"Then, don't look." Marilyn grabbed Eli by his jacket collar and hauled him close, her mouth meeting his for a demanding kiss. He hesitated for maybe half a second, long enough for her to slide her hand around to his back beneath the leather of the jacket. Then his mouth opened over hers, his tongue darted out and he surrendered to every one of her demands as he made a few of his own. He could never resist her.
Her hand crept down to cup his buttocks, holding him still while she rubbed herself against him. Eli broke away, breathing hard. "Not that I have any real objection to exhibitionism," he gasped, "but the stairs aren't exactly the best place for it."
Marilyn couldn't catch her breath either. She looked over her shoulder at the empty foyer. "No exhibit. She's gone."
Eli studied her, trying to figure out her motivation. Did she really want him? "Is that why you did it? Kissed me like that? To make her leave?"
"No."
He must not have looked like he believed her.
"No," she repeated. "I kissed you like that because I wanted to. Okay, partly, it was to prove she couldn't make me stop, and yes, that's a little childish. But it's my house, Eli. If I want to kiss you, I can. If I want to have sex with you, I can." A blush flamed all the way up her neck to the part in her hair. "I do. But you're right. Not on the stairs."
Her hands flew up to hide her mouth. "Oh, my God, Pete could have come in! He'd have seen us."
Eli laughed, delighted by her embarrassment. It meant she'd forgotten everything except kissing him. Her words made him feel good too. He grabbed her in a cautious bear hug, considering they were still on the stairs and he still had only one good leg. He needed another kiss. Their lips touched. And the front door rattled open.
"What's taking so long?" Pete yelled. Then, "Oh geez, you're kissing? I'm gonna starve before I get to eat."
Eli and Marilyn broke apart, laughing. He kissed her cheek and forced himself to turn away. "Okay, okay. I'm coming."
Pete had to read every item on the blackboard menu out loud. He was proud of the fact that he was the best reader in third grade at his school. Eli was damn proud of it himself. Pete was a great kid. Thank God he'd called Eli for help before Flash had a chance to get hold of him. If something had happened to Pete--once more, Eli pushed the thought away.
But something terrible did happen to Marilyn's Kevin. A boy no older than Pete. Taller. Quieter, maybe, but with the same freckles. The same little boy smell. The same little boy enthusiasms. Gone. Forever.
"Hey, Dad. Eli--" Pete tugged on his good arm. "What do we want?"
"Oh." Eli looked at the counter guy waiting not so patiently to take their order. "Uh--how many do you want? How many can you eat?"
"Three!" Pete jumped up and down in front of the counter, perpetual motion in the flesh. "Cinnamon. Or no, blueberry!"
Eli eyed him doubtfully. But they could always save the extras for later. "A dozen mixed," he said, pulling out his wallet. "Give me some cream cheese, too. Plain and something with fruit. Whatever you got."
While he went through the mechanics of paying for and collecting their purchase, Eli's mind threw out old assumptions and rearranged the remaining bits into a new understanding. He'd always thought of Marilyn as an innocent. Someone untouched by the ugly realities of life.
Sure, she'd lost her husband, and that was rough. Maybe he couldn't understand what that was like because he'd never loved anybody that way. Not enough to promise to stick with them the rest of his life.
Losing Teresa hurt. But a lot of that was guilt over not saving her. He could have, maybe, if he'd acted sooner. The first time she called. He was going to have to live with that. The rest of the hurt was for Pete. And yet, how much did Pete really miss her? He sure wasn't acting sad. Maybe it just hadn't soaked in yet. It was hard for kids to understand death.
Eli understood, though. He couldn't even think about something happening to Pete. And Marilyn had faced it. She'd lived through it. Far from leaving her untouched, reality had beat hell out of her, stolen away a child and a husband in a single year's time. And she'd survived.
Reality had knocked her on her ass. She'd been down to her knees, maybe even flat on her face, but she was getting back up again. She was standing on her feet, ready to take reality on once more. Who was he to think she couldn't do it?
"Can I turn the key again, Eli?" Pete fastened his seat belt. "Since your cast is in the way and stuff?"
"Sure, kid." Eli watched Pete lean across and carefully turn the car key until the engine caught.
"Eli?"
"Yeah?" He had to work to get the gear changed with just fingertips, even if the car was an automatic.
"Are you really, truly my dad?"
"Yep. Really and truly."
"Are you sure? I mean, Mom has lots of boyfriends. Maybe--"
"I'm sure. Do you know what DNA is? Have you studied it in school?"
"No."
Damn. "What do you know about babies, about where they come from?"
Pete made a face. "From sex. They grow inside the mother. Gross."
<
br /> Eli had to laugh. "So half the DNA, the stuff that starts a baby growing, comes from the mom and half from the dad. And they can test that now. Some scientists looked inside your blood and inside mine, and saw that half of your DNA came from me. So yeah, I'm really truly sure that I'm really truly your dad. Okay?"
"Yeah." Pete didn't look any happier though, and Eli thought he knew why.
"But you know what? Even if the test said you were some other guy's kid, I wouldn't care. You know what I would have done? Adopted you. I was there when you were born, Pete. You were the ugliest thing I ever saw, all red and scrawny and pointy-headed. But I knew right then that you were mine. I was your dad, no matter what. Okay? No matter what. If I wanted to be your dad then, ugly as you were, I'm sure not going to change my mind now you've cuted up some."
"So, why didn't you tell me?"
Damn good question. "'Cause I'm stupid, I guess." Eli shook his head. "Maybe I wasn't too sure you'd want me for your dad."
Pete gave him a disgusted look. "Guess you are stupid, then. Who wouldn't want you for a dad?"
"Yeah?" Eli glanced at him. That wasn't what he said last night at the hospital.
"Yeah. I mean, you have a Harley. And your girlfriend has a house and an apartment." Pete grinned, and Eli had to laugh. Maybe he meant it. It felt good.
"Eli?"
"Yeah, squirt." What now?
"Are Marilyn's kids all old? She's a mom too, right?"
He took a deep breath and let it out. Probably better if he explained things now. "Yeah, Pete, she's a mom. Her daughter is at college. She's eighteen. But her son died. He got sick when he was about your age, and he died."
"Oh."
"It was a long time ago, before you started kindergarten, but sometimes she still feels bad about it. She still cries sometimes because she misses him. So if she does, don't think it's because she doesn't like you, or because you did something wrong. She's just sad." God, he hoped this worked.
Eli pulled into Marilyn's garage and hit the button to start the automatic door going down. "You okay with that?"
