by Cora Brent
Easton stood stock still with his uniform covered in dirt and grass. His ten-year-old face was pinched and his eyes were wide.
“Are you sick?” he asked and Anya could hear it in his voice, the terror. Their father had left, their mother was sick, dying slowly, and there was no other family. Anya was all he had. She couldn’t be sick. She couldn’t do that to him.
“No.” Anya shook her head, wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet. “I feel better now.” The she herded her little brother into the kitchen and made him an egg sandwich.
She’d had a crush on Rocco. It seemed funny to think about it now, that for an entire semester she’d secretly followed Jack’s younger brother around the halls of Lutztown High. Anya never suffered from a lack of male attention. She could have just about anyone she wanted. Rocco, however, seemed indifferent to her. It was annoying.
Then one day Anya was exiting the girls’ locker room after school. She’d only returned to see if she could find the silver bangle bracelet she’d left in there earlier in the day. She couldn’t. The day was cold and the building was nearly empty. She opened the doors to the gymnasium, bracing for the frigid air, wishing her mother’s crappy old Civic had heat, although at this point she was damn lucky it was still running. She didn’t know what she would do when it stopped. Anya checked the time, relieved to see she had twenty minutes before she needed to pick up Easton from the elementary school. She froze when she heard Rocco’s voice.
“I forget, what the fuck’s your problem with her?”
The person Rocco was arguing with was a girl. “Are you kidding? She’s a total cunt case. You know she told everyone that Ashley Donatello was born with a penis.”
“Damn, she was?”
“No! She also spread the rumor that Keri Freeman’s parents are cousins. She just has to have someone to tear down, all the time. I swear, there’s no bigger bitch in the tri-state area than Anya Malone. And you know she’s got a thing for you, right?”
Rocco laughed. “You’re full of shit.”
“I’m not!”
Just out of sight, Anya stayed silent. She narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists as the girl sniffed and continued.
“She follows you around like a stray dog. It’s disgusting.”
Rocco laughed again. “Whatever.”
“Fine. Ignore me. Just do me this one favor, Roc, and don’t let that heinous bitch latch onto you.”
“You got it, Claud. Can we go home now? My fucking balls are frozen.”
Claudia Giordano grumbled and Anya heard the two of them walking away. She wanted to scream. She wanted to shake Claudia by her wavy brown hair until the girl’s teeth knocked together and her skinny legs left the ground. She wanted to yell, “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU KNOW? YOU HAVE EVERYTHING!!”
Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and headed to the parking lot. She always liked to be waiting for Easton when he got out of school. She had to be the one he could count on.
Anya didn’t get to go anywhere after high school graduation. She took a few classes at the community college but even the small amount of that tuition was tough to cover. They’d been struggling for so long with only their mother’s disability check and unreliable contributions from their father, which ended altogether within a few more years. Anya needed to work. Tips at the Mid Island Diner were flimsy but it was enough. Enough to keep Easton fed and playing the sports he loved. Enough to stay in the house they’d grown up in.
And then their mother finally died. It had taken twelve years from the first tremors that shook her hands so hard she couldn’t cook dinner. It had a name of course, the legacy of one victim of its ravages who had suffered and then died young. Once it started there was no stopping it. Even before it started there was no stopping it. Either you were born with it in your blood or you weren’t.
At their father’s insistence, Easton and Anya had gone for the genetic test when they were kids. Anya was eleven when they were tested, Easton only four. She remembered it clearly, holding her squirming little brother on her lap in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. She remembered hearing her parents’ voices in the night, when they thought she was asleep. She remembered hearing the phrase ‘fifty-fifty chance’.
Those were the odds belonging to a child of a parent who had the disease. That was what the test would show, which side of the coin fate had flipped.
Her brother Easton’s test was negative. He did not carry the gene.
‘Fifty-fifty chance.’
Jack stirred at her side and Anya tried to wrench her thoughts away from the dark place they had fallen into. On a rainy afternoon two weeks ago she had gone to Jack as he worked at the garage. She’d told him she couldn’t marry him after all. It just wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to him.
Jack had lifted her without saying a word. He gently carried her to the tiny office in the back of the shop while Rocco and Getty pretended nothing out of the ordinary was going on. They rolled beneath the cars they had been working on and stayed quiet. Anya was sobbing hard by this time as Jack set her down in a metal desk chair.
“Sweetheart,” he’d said as he pushed a damp length of hair out of her eyes. “Don’t you know how rare this is? I do. I’ve been looking for it all my life. Even if we never have another good day, even if you fall down tomorrow and can’t get back up, what we do have is nothing short of a miracle.” He kissed her forehead and wrapped her in his arms. “I’m not going anywhere, honey. You can’t make me.”
He meant it. Anya did not doubt him at all.
Jack was waking up. He buried his face in her neck and breathed deeply.
“Good morning,” she murmured, curling closer to his body. She could never get close enough to him. It had been like that since the moment he touched her.
“What are you doing later?” he asked, pushing his hand insistently between her legs. She didn’t mind. She smiled and shifted to give him better access.
“I don’t know. I think today might be a good day to get married.”
He was stroking her. He wasn’t going to let her get away anytime soon. That was fine. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.
Jack had the most seductive voice. It was right next to her ear. “Is that what you think?”
“Yeah.” She was breathing hard, gasping as he slid one finger into the waistband of her panties. The man knew exactly which of her buttons to push. She strained against the pressure of his fingers as they skillfully explored her. God, she loved him. She wanted him. She arched and moaned, knowing how much he liked to watch her in the throes of pleasure.
Somehow Jack already had a condom on. Without saying anything he rolled her over, slid her panties down and entered her smoothly. She was ready. She clutched the pillow as he moved inside her, reveling in the way they fit together. Anya hadn’t had many lovers. She always had trouble letting herself go. Only Jack could bring out the most instinctive part of her.
Only Jack.
Forever.
Sometimes she couldn’t believe it was real. Jack Giordano had gotten down on one knee and promised her the fairy tale.
Today he kept his word. He gave it all to her. They got married in an absurd little courtyard beside an Italian restaurant but it couldn’t have been more perfect if it was at the Waldorf Astoria. Anya scarcely noticed that they were surrounded by people. There was family. There were friends. But Anya was oblivious to them.
The tables were moved and a dance floor of sorts was opened up. Anya floated in Jack’s arms, loving the moment but also hoping it would end soon so that they could go back to being alone together. People started to drink and get rowdy. Over Claudia’s profuse objections, Jack dragged her into the middle of the floor to help lead the guests in the tarantella. Claudia hadn’t said much all day and now she went through the motions rigidly, her cheeks growing as pink as her dress, but Jack didn’t notice. He spun his daughter around and hammed it up for the crowd until the music stopped.
Afterwards, when most of
the guests had gone and they’d returned to the house, Anya giggled like a teenager as Claudia helped her change from her wedding dress into an airy cotton blouse with a floral skirt.
“Did Jack tell you about Papa’s pills?” Anya suddenly asked her because she felt like she needed to spark a conversation somehow.
“Yes,” Claudia said curtly as she tried to balance Anya’s brilliant white gown on the hanger evenly.
“Good,” Anya said and smoothed her skirt down. It seemed she should say something else, something genuine, something that would let Claudia know that she was important to Anya now.
Claudia finished fussing with the dress. She looked down at herself and grimaced. Jack had been right about the bridesmaid gown. It obviously wasn’t Claudia’s style.
“So I’ll see you in six days,” Anya said brightly.
Claudia nodded and started for the door. “I guess so.”
Anya swallowed. “Claudia?”
Claudia sighed and turned around. “Really, I swear I won’t forget about Papa’s pills.”
“Oh, I know. I just didn’t get a chance to tell you yesterday that I’m really glad you’re here.”
Claudia looked at her. Jack was right; his daughter was absolutely inscrutable. There was no way to know what was going on in there. Claudia managed to surprise her though.
“I forgot to say congratulations,” she said softly, a little sadly. She started to lean forward with some awkwardness, like she was about to give out a reluctant hug, but there was a sharp knock at the door.
“Hey,” Easton called from the other side. “Jack’s threatening to take me to Atlantic City instead if you’re not out here in about eight seconds.”
Anya laughed. She’d laughed more in the last eight months than she had in the last ten years. It felt good. She opened the door and her little brother was there, grinning at her mischievously. He hugged her warmly, unreservedly.
“Love you, little man,” Anya said before he released her and she thought his eyes watered a little. That had been their mother’s nickname for him. Anya desperately wished she could have lived to see this day.
“Love you too, brat,” Easton said and tugged lightly on her hair before he let her go.
Anya turned back to him one last time. “Behave yourself this week.” It was an unnecessary thing to say. Easton was legally an adult. Soon he would be living far away and she would have no idea what he was up to on a daily basis. But for now she said it because she still could.
Easton raised his eyebrows and gave her an innocent, heartwarming smile. “I always do.”
Claudia had emerged. She and Easton looked at each other. Something about the way their eyes raked one another over made Anya consider something she hadn’t considered before.
But then Jack was there, leading her away. They waved to everyone, to Rocco and Getty and a confused Papa, to Jack’s mother and her sour-looking husband. And finally, they waved to Easton and Claudia.
Easton and Claudia raised their arms at the same time and waved back. They stood close together without touching. Anya stared at them for a second before taking her husband’s hand and forgetting everything else but the sheer joy of the moment. She knew she wouldn’t forget how this felt, not ever.
It was perfect.
CHAPTER EIGHT
EASTON
If I wasn’t going to get fucked then I could at least get drunk.
The house had been deathly still for hours. Everyone kind of drifted away after Anya and Jack took off. Jack’s bitchy mother couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. She dragged that limp gray-haired suit she was now married to out of the house about ninety seconds after Jack’s taillights disappeared around the corner. But before she left she eyed her granddaughter critically and sniffed something about how Claudia shouldn’t wear the color pink because it made her look washed out. That pissed me off. I wanted to tell Claudia that she looked insanely gorgeous and her stupid grandmother was bat shit crazy. I mean, this was the same woman who once chased me down the block with a snow shovel because she thought that I’d thrown the baseball that shattered her front window.
Actually, I really did throw the ball. It was an accident. I’d torn Eric Fontana away from his video games long enough to play some catch in the street. The fucker ducked away from my attempt at a slider and the thing went sailing through the Giordano’s bay window. Still, that was no reason to try to brain me with a garden tool.
Rocco and Getty didn’t stick around for long after the happy couple was gone. Rocco said something about a club in Long Beach but when I piped up that I might be interested¸ Getty smugly informed me that no place worth driving to would let in a kid. Getty was a real asshole sometimes. Fuck him and his thirty-year-old bones.
It didn’t matter. After all, I was holding out the hope that Claudia would admit she was lonely and accept some company. She could accept my dick while she was at it.
I had waited in the kitchen while Claudia tucked old Papa into the back bedroom. Then she trudged up the stairs without even pausing to say good night. What the hell was up with that? She’d avoided me most of the day. She was probably having all kinds of angst over the fact that her father was getting married to someone she went to high school with, but if that was the case then she seriously needed to get over it. For a girl who seemed hell bent on projecting how mature she was, Claudia was kind of acting like a moody jerk. If she wasn’t also hotter than an old chrome bumper in the July sun, I wouldn’t even bother with her.
When it became obvious that Claudia wasn’t going to reappear and tear her clothes off, I headed back to the garage. I stripped down to my boxers and kicked the rumpled tux away. I needed to return it to the rental place in the morning.
The only time I’d gotten next to Claudia all day was during the rowdiest part of the wedding reception when the dance floor was opened up and someone produced a karaoke machine. Getty grabbed the microphone and channeled Otis Redding singing Try a Little Tenderness. I knew it well; my mother used to have an antique record player with about two hundred record albums and she had a thing for the sixties. As far as I knew, those boxes of albums were stored somewhere in Jack Giordano’s attic these days.
Claudia was surprised when I asked her to dance. She frowned a little and I figured she was scouring her brain to figure out a way to get out of it. But then she shrugged and followed me to the darkest corner of the dance floor. People were feeling their liquor at this point and didn’t really notice us. Anya and Jack were lurching around with their eyes closed, drugged with each other.
When I settled my hands on Claudia’s waist and tried to close the two feet of space between us she froze. She rested her palms on my shoulders and stiffly moved from one foot to the other, like we were at a middle school dance. Somewhere in the room Getty hit a high note and the microphone whined with feedback.
Claudia let out a snort of laughter and I took advantage of the break in her bad mood to close the gap between us. She swallowed and looked up at me but didn’t pull away. Slowly, so slowly, her arms loosened themselves from my shoulders and wrapped around my neck while my hands spread across the small of her back. We weren’t really dancing but it didn’t matter much. I was so hard already that I wouldn’t have been able to walk a straight line with a gun to my head. Then Claudia’s satin-encased tits brushed just north of my belly and I acted instinctively. My arms pulled her in and suddenly that sweet body of hers was being pressed against me. I squeezed until my hungry dick felt what waiting beyond all those stupid fancy clothes. There was no fucking way she didn’t feel that.
And she did.
Claudia inhaled sharply. For a second she raised herself on tiptoe and moved her hips against mine with such force I had to bite my tongue to stop from moaning with ecstasy and grinding on her until I creamed my damn pants. Then a cloud passed over her face and she pushed me away.
“Dammit, Easton,” she hissed and left me there with my boner sticking ten feet in front of me. I tried to play it
casual by leaning against the wall, glancing around to figure out if anyone had seen anything. Jack was still draped over my sister and most of the other guests were too busy having their own moments to worry about what anyone else was doing. Rocco, however, stood ten feet away and he was in danger of getting a hernia from laughing so hard. I jerked my head at him and extended my finger.
Yeah, fuck you, man.
He remained amused for a while but I ignored him. People seemed to be enjoying the music even though there wasn’t much of a dance floor. Then Getty inexplicably chose a hardcore Guns N Roses song for his next performance and everyone stopped what they were doing, looking at each other with confusion. Soon after that the guests started doing their cheek-kissing goodbyes and there was no one left but family.
I took the wheel to Rocco’s car for the drive back to the neighborhood since he’d had a few drinks. Claudia was in the car too. She said nothing during the entire ride. In fact I didn’t hear her speak again until we were waving goodbye to Jack and Anya.
“I’m tired,” she said and her words didn’t have the tone of someone who was trying to start a conversation. Instead they said, “I’m too worn out to deal with your crap so just stay away from me.”
