by Gail Dayton
Pete got out of the car, dragging the box of bagels behind him. "Is it okay if I cry sometimes because I miss my mom?"
"Yeah, Pete. That's okay too."
They made up to the house, Pete "helping" Eli over the icy spots, going in the back door this time. Eli made Pete hang his coat on the hook instead of dropping it on the mudroom floor.
"Eli?" Pete stopped beside the coathooks. "You think it would be okay if I gave Marilyn a hug when she cries? Maybe if I gave her a hug, she wouldn't feel so sad."
Eli looked up to see Marilyn standing in the doorway, tears streaming down her cheeks. Damn it, not again. But she was smiling, almost. "I don't know," he said. "Why don't you ask her?"
Pete looked up at her, uncertainty all over his face. "Uh--"
Marilyn just opened her arms. Pete took two steps, wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed tight. Her tears kept coming. Pete pulled back and gave her a skeptical look. "You're still crying."
"I know." She swiped at her cheeks. "But I feel a whole lot better."
"But you're still crying."
"Don't worry about it, Pete." Eli handed him back the box of bagels. "It's a girl thing. I don't get it either."
Marilyn socked him in the arm.
Joey showed up in time to scarf down three bagels. Pete didn't eat all of one before he got up from the card table and headed off to explore.
"You missed Mom." Marilyn poured another cup of the coffee made from stale beans left behind.
"She came? Damn, I was afraid of that." Joey picked up the piece of bagel Pete had left and cut off the tooth marks.
"How'd she know I was here?" Marilyn watched in amazement as he slathered on cream cheese. Then he picked up the bitten parts of bagel he'd cut off and ate them too. "Mom?"
Red spots appeared on his cheeks above his several-day-old scruff. "I--uh--was thinking about other stuff when she called, on my way out to come over here yesterday. So when she asked where I was going, like an idiot, I told her. Sorry."
"Probably just as well." Marilyn leaned back in her chair, holding her mug in both hands, her ankle hooked over Eli's.
"I did talk to Julie like you asked."
"And?"
Joey blew out a breath, handing his cup to Eli who was refilling his own. "I don't know. Maybe she listened." He shook his head. "Who knows? Eighteen-year-old girls don't think like normal people."
Marilyn sighed. "I don't know what she'd think was worse--letting Pete stay in her room, or fixing Kevin's room for him."
"What did you say?" Joey sat up straight, staring at her.
"What? I don't know if--?" Then she understood. "Oh. Kevin. I did say that, didn't I?"
"What happened?" Joey looked over at Eli, hunting answers. Eli ran his good set of sock-covered toes up the back of her leg, watching Marilyn.
She fussed with her cup a minute. "I sort of fell apart last night... Oh, let's be honest. I was hysterical."
"Upset," Eli said. "Not hysterical."
"Next thing to it. And the next thing I know, I was telling Eli all about Kevin and--and everything." She stared at her cooling coffee until the silence stretched so long she couldn't stand it, then she looked up.
Joey was watching Eli. Eli was looking at her, waiting for her to look back, to see him. "You okay?" he asked.
She nodded. Finally Eli met Joey's gaze.
Her brother held it a moment, then nodded. "Thanks, man."
Eli nodded back. It made Marilyn feel funny inside, like something had just happened--something important--and she'd missed it completely.
She fidgeted. "So what time are you going to come help us get moved out of the apartment?"
Joey looked at his watch. "Have to go back to work." He grabbed yet another bagel and took a bite. "Hate to eat and run, but..."
"Eat and run is all you ever do." Marilyn kicked his ankle, not too hard. "Leave work early. I expect to see you there."
"Yeah, yeah." Joey stood and sucked down the rest of his coffee. "Are you sure you're not going to want to be moving back there in three more months?"
Marilyn looked at Eli. His casts were due to come off next Tuesday. Would he and Pete still be around after that? "No, but you need the exercise."
"Okay, okay, I'll be there." Joey grabbed his coat and vanished out the door with a wave, bagel clenched in his teeth.
"I was going to get Pete enrolled in school today," Eli said, gathering up the after-breakfast debris. "But maybe I need to be looking for a place to live instead."
"Why?" Oh God, he wanted to leave before next week.
"You told Joey you were moving back--"
"Oh for--I didn't mean it. Joey was whining. I was harassing him. I said you and Pete could stay as long as you want. I mean it."
Eli stared into the sink a minute after setting his cup in it, then turned around and stared at her. "And you? Are you going to stay here with us? Are you giving up the apartment?"
"It's just a month-to-month rental, so yes. If you want, I'll give it up."
"What do you want, Marilyn?"
You. But she couldn't tell him that. It made her too pathetic. "I'll let the apartment go."
He nodded. "You done with that?" He pointed at her cup.
She handed it to him. "What about you? How long are you staying?"
Again he looked at her, his eyes blazing brighter than before. "How long do you want me to stay?"
Forever. But she couldn't say that either. She didn't want it, not when she knew he'd get tired of her before long. She wouldn't be one of those needy, clingy, desperate women, trying to hang on long after the spark was gone. "As long as you want. As long as you need to. How many times do I have to say it?"
His lips quirked up in a smile and he leaned in to kiss her. Just before their mouths touched, he spoke. "As many times as it takes for me to believe it, I guess."
"Believe." She kissed him.
He was so young, so full of passion and heat and life, so filled with contrasts. His lips softened, coaxing her mouth to open, and his body hardened, urging her legs apart. His fingers traced the lines of her face as they kissed.
His tough façade concealed a man who knew how to be gentle. Only a man who was truly strong, who had no doubts whatsoever about his own strength, was capable of gentleness. Marilyn believed that, heart and soul. And in every sense of the word, Eli was a gentleman.
She slipped her hands under his shirt, reveling in the feel of his strong young body. He leaned back against the counter, settling her against him as he continued the kiss, more leisurely now, as if he knew she wouldn't try to get away.
"Kissing again?" Pete's voice interrupted them. "Don't you guys do anything else?"
Eli laughed, refusing to let Marilyn go. She hid her face against him, embarrassed beyond relief. "Better get used to it, kid," Eli said. "I've got a ways to go before I catch up."
"With what? The kissing world record?" Pete leaned against the cabinet beside them. "You're not gonna make this, like, a regular thing, are you? All this hugging and mushy stuff?" He eyed them both suspiciously.
"Maybe," Eli teased.
"No maybes about it." Marilyn spread her arms and advanced on Pete, walking slowly like a mummy from an old Abbott and Costello movie. "I need hugs. I need mushy stuff."
Pete yelled in mock fright and darted around the table. "No! You can't catch me! No hugs!"
She moved a little faster, her heart somehow tearing apart and mending at the same time, to the sound of Pete's boisterous laughter.
He tripped over a chair and Eli caught him before he hit the ground, sending him into shrieks of giggles by lifting his shirt and blowing on his stomach.
"I need hugs." Marilyn kept up her movie monster act, wrapping her arms around both of them and squeezing while Pete giggled and squealed and fought to get free. Then Eli lost his balance and they all crashed together to the floor where they lay, stunned.
Pete was still half-laughing as he panted for breath, so Marilyn figured he w
as okay. "Eli? You break anything new?"
"Don't think so." His voice sounded funny. He grunted, shoving Pete into a new position. "That's better. You weigh a ton, kid. How about you, Marilyn? You break anything?"
"No, but that cast on your leg is going to put a serious dent in my leg if you don't move it sometime soon."
When he picked the leg up, he also moved both of Pete's. Rearranged to their mutual satisfaction, they lay on the floor a while longer. Marilyn didn't know about the other two, but she wasn't sure she'd object if they lay on the floor together the rest of the day.
Pete's laughter had crawled down inside her to rip open old scars papered over festering wounds. It hurt--oh, how it hurt--remembering other laughter, other silly games. And yet...she could play them. She could laugh, and remember, and not be dying inside.
It had been five years, so maybe it was just the passage of time that made the difference. But she didn't think so. If Eli hadn't dropped into her life, needing, wanting things from her, she might never have spoken Kevin's name aloud again. Pete's presence had broken the dam, but Eli was the one who made it possible.
How would she bear it when he left?
Eighteen
***
"Better get up from here," Eli said. "We got things to be doing today."
"Like what?" Pete propped his head on Marilyn's arm so he could look at Eli.
"Like get you registered for school."
"School?" Pete made the word sound like the bubonic plague. "Gimme a break."
Eli sat up and cuffed Pete lightly on the head. "Spring break's coming up in another couple of weeks. You can have a break then."
Where would Julie be for spring break, Marilyn wondered. Would she want to come home?
Eli stood, using the cabinet for support, and held his hand out to his son. Pete put his hands behind his back, hiding them. "Come on. Let's go." Eli beckoned, obviously losing patience.
"Why?"
"Because I'm the dad and I said so." The instant the words were out, Eli froze, his eyes going wide.
Marilyn had to laugh. "Never said that before, huh? Amazing the kinds of things that kids can make come out of your mouth."
She pushed Pete off her and took Eli's outstretched hand to get up. Then she reached back and snagged Pete's arm, hauling him to his feet. Eli caught hold partway up and helped.
"Your dad explained why," Marilyn said. "Just because you don't want to hear it doesn't mean he didn't tell you. He's the dad. You're the kid. He's the one who gets to decide about big stuff like school."
"Boy," Pete sounded disgusted. "You really are a mom, aren't you?"
"Yep."
"So if Eli gets to decide the big stuff, what kind of stuff do I get to decide?"
"Important stuff. Like what to wear to school."
"That's not important."
"Sure it is," she said. "You don't want the other kids to think you're a dork, do you? Eli'd probably pick out something pink."
"He would not."
Eli handed Pete his coat, then got Marilyn's.
"Oh." She took it hesitantly. "I--I'm invited?"
"You know where the school is. After we get the squirt situated, I thought we might head over to the apartment and start packing your stuff."
"Do I have to stay there?" Pete whined. "Today?"
"We'll see what they say at the school."
They did want Pete to stay. Eli explained that Pete had recently lost his mother and put Marilyn on the list of persons who could pick his son up from school. The new teacher referred to Marilyn as Pete's grandmother, whereupon the boy informed her in his loudest voice that Marilyn was his dad's girlfriend. The two males thought it was hilarious. Marilyn was never so glad to get out of anywhere, and she wasn't sure Mrs. Grabowski would ever be able to look her in the eye.
She and Eli spent what was left of the day packing up their belongings--both Eli's and hers--at the apartment. She sent Eli by himself to pick up Pete from school. She was about to unplug the phone and add it to a box when she realized that Julie didn't know about the move.
Marilyn dialed Julie's number. Of course the machine picked up. "Hi, sweetie, it's Mom. I wanted to let you know I'm moving back to the house. So, um--the old phone number is good, and the new one isn't."
She hadn't said one word about Eli. Julie might think like Mom had, that things were going back like they were. Marilyn had to correct that impression. "Eli says to tell you hi. I love you, baby. Call me, okay?" She barely got the last words in before the message box beeped, clicked and shut off.
Marilyn wiped her eyes as she hung up the phone. Why wouldn't her family try to understand? Then Pete hurtled through the door with his boisterous energy, a dozen steps ahead of Eli, and Marilyn didn't have time to be anything but busy.
With Joey's help and his friend's pickup, they got everything moved except the fold-out sofa. That would have to wait till Eli got his casts off, because it was so heavy.
Eli hated not being able to do more, but he wanted Marilyn's stuff at her house, with his and Pete's, now. He couldn't wait till the casts came off, even if it was only four more days. He watched Pete jump around, getting in the way a lot, but actually being a lot of help too.
The kid blossomed under all the attention. And despite the protests, it was obvious to Eli that Pete craved every hug and kiss Marilyn showered on him. Like father, like son, he figured. Marilyn was the kind of mother Pete needed. The kind he deserved. How could Eli make sure Pete never lost this mothering?
Eli left Marilyn home unpacking to take Pete to school the next morning. On the way back, traffic was hideous, so he tried an alternate route to reach the other street into Marilyn's neighborhood, turning right instead of left and heading into the suburb's old post-WWII business district. He was almost to the turn when he saw a Harley sign on a building up ahead. And an empty parking slot out front.
On impulse, Eli pulled into the slot and got out, feeling fate was directing him. The small door beside the big garage-type door was open, the big bay inside filled with half a dozen makes and sizes of motorcycles along, with a few monster snow-blowers.
A burly man with a steel-gray ponytail halfway down his back stood and came toward him, wiping his hands on a red grease rag. "Frank Dicenzo," he said, offering a hand.
"Eli Court." Eli shook it with his left. "Looks like you got quite a bit of business here."
"Not bad. Can I help you with something?"
"I was thinking maybe I could help you. I've repaired a few cycles in my day. Ride a Sportster 883 myself." He lifted his right arm in its cast, gestured at the one on his leg. "I'm getting these off next Tuesday. Looking for work."
Dicenzo shook his head. "Sorry, man. I don't have any. Not unless you're in the market to buy the place. I'm closing down."
"Why?" Eli frowned, looking around at the machines surrounding them. "Looks like you got plenty of business."
"Yeah. Too much. More than I can keep up with." Dicenzo grinned, showing a couple of missing teeth. "Too many wild parties in my reckless youth. I'm so stove up now, I can hardly hold a wrench. Can't get up and down like I used to."
"Lots of business?" Eli looked around again, possibilities bubbling up in his mind. "And you're looking to sell?"
"Yeah." Dicenzo looked Eli over. "You looking to buy?"
"I could be, if the price is right."
"You any good as a mechanic? I don't want to turn my customers over to just anybody."
"You willing to stick around a while and see? How about you let me buy into the place? We work as partners for a while, split the take, and if we're both satisfied, I finish the buyout. If not, I get my money back, and you're free to find another buyer." Eli kept the excitement out of his voice. Cool was the ticket here.
"Might work." Dicenzo nodded. "How much you talking about here?"
"Ten grand cash down payment today."
The old biker's eyes widened. "That sounds...doable. I figure half of everything, including the buil
ding, at about fifty thou. Get a loan for the rest?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. I'll have my lawyer draw somethin' up."
"You have a lawyer?" Eli grinned at the incongruous idea.
"Yeah, well--he's my wife's cousin's kid. He's pretty good. He'll do somethin' fair for both of us. Better to have the deal down on paper, right?"
Eli plucked a business card from the holder on the cluttered counter to his right and wrote his name and number, and Marilyn's phone number and address on the back. He handed it back to Dicenzo. "You can reach me at either place."
The other man looked at the numbers and frowned. "I know this address...yeah, isn't this the Ballard place? Bill and Marilyn were a couple years behind me in school. To start with anyway." He grinned his gap-toothed grin. "School wasn't my favorite thing, ya know?"
"Mine, either." This guy knew Marilyn? Eli revised his estimate of the man's age downward by about ten years. He really had been living hard if he was in this bad of a shape at his age.
"Shame what happened to her. I heard she moved out. You buyin' the house?"
Eli shook his head, deciding how much to tell. "No. She's moved back. I'm living there with her--me and my son."
Dicenzo's eyebrows climbed. "You living there, or are you living there?" The inflection and emphasis in his voice made it clear what he was asking.
"We're together, yeah." Eli indicated the card in the other man's hand. "That gonna make any difference in our deal?"
"Nothin' like that. I'm--surprised is all. Who knew Marilyn Franks was such a wild woman?"
"Yeah, well, don't let it get out." Eli knew it would, though. He was almost counting on it. "I better get back before she thinks I've gone AWOL. Call me when the paperwork's done."
"No problem."
So, there was that question answered. The one about what he would do if he stayed. He hadn't been worried about finding work. He'd always been able to do that, though most often he had to settle for appliance repair and ugly uniforms with his name over the pocket, rather than motorcycles and leather.
In the back of his mind, he'd always thought he'd own his own place someday. He'd been saving up his cash with that vaguely in mind, maybe in a few more years when he was ready to settle in one place. Was he ready now?
