Me and Mom Fall for Spencer

by Diane Munier

  “Thanks, but no. Not with this wild beast around. Figured paint fumes wouldn’t help. I have to get him calmed down,” Spencer says. “Let me know what I owe you for the paint though.”

  I look at him. Guess he’s not thinking Ned is for Cyro. That’s what I hoped, that Spencer would fall in love with him and that would be one down for the amigos.

  “Want to go with me and Christine and meet a couple of the locals for a drink? Well we meet there, at the Longbranch. Time you got out of the house maybe?”

  He’s been out of the house, I want to say. He’s been with me—Farmer’s Market, park, Big-Mart and the dog shelter. Church, not that it was my idea…the diner and that embarrassment. But he’s been out. Now that she’s on the scene she thinks it’s the only thing that counts. The Longbranch? I’d have to go in drunk.

  Spencer is wiping his hands on a napkin. “Maybe I’ll come by later,” he says, looking at me, and I look away and keep scratching on Ned who is putting his big paw on my leg like I need to keep going. Spencer gestures toward the dog again. “Traitor.”

  “Suit yourself,” Mom says dousing the nasty cigarette in the sink. “Don’t wait up, kiddo,” she says to me as she exits the kitchen.

  Like I ever do.

  I wash my hands and get a plate. Ned is right at my feet now, tap dancing along as I try to walk. Spencer rebukes him, tells him to get over by him. Soon as Ned is close Spencer pushes him back under the table and tells him to stay. When I sit down Ned’s head is in my lap right away. Spencer pushes his chair back and looks under the table and he pulls Ned away. He’s trying to get him to lie down. Ned whines.

  “Told you he wouldn’t be able to resist you,” Spencer says.

  Well, my privates anyway.

  I’m trying not to burn my mouth as I bite and chew the hot food.

  “You ever eat meat?” he says.

  “Sure,” I say. “I like…meat. Fried chicken?”

  “Oh yeah. But maybe we can get a steak…tomorrow night. I can’t be eating your food all the time.”

  Whatever. Feels like compensation to me. He wants to go to the Longbranch, he’ll be the steak. If that’s what he wants have at it.

  “How about it? A steak? Know where to get one?”

  I shrug as I eat. Ned is back and Spencer fusses at him again, makes him lay.

  I will be up much of the night tackling Aaron’s file. That’s after I walk. And tomorrow…Cyro’s house. I have the garden to pick tomorrow to get ready for Wednesday’s market. I can’t start going out. There’s no room for that. Drinkers, stinkers, winkers, tinkers, shirkers, lurkers… twerkers.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “Cyro….”

  “I’ll help you with that…tomorrow.”

  “You will?”

  “Yeah. You get some of the stuff around…for the critters?”

  “Yes.” I shudder.

  “You just get a hee-bee?”

  Maybe I did. I smile and keep eating.

  When it’s time to walk he is on the porch with Ned. Pastor Stanley has come calling just like I knew he would. Spencer sees me, but he doesn’t wave but he looks at Stanley, then at me. He wants to watch me and it fills me with two kinds of dread, one that he’ll catch up and want to walk with me, and two that he’ll get tired of watching me and he’ll want to watch something else…someone else.

  His hands are in his pockets and Stanley has his back to the street and he’s talking away and Ned runs around the side of the house and sticks his nose right where the sun don’t shine on Pastor Stanley and Spencer yells, “Oh shit,” then I hear him telling Stanley he’s sorry and I just keep on going cause it’s the funniest thing.

  And I think of how much I’ve laughed today. A lot, that’s for certain.

  I take my time and do patrol right. I touch the bricks at the corner of the rental, shine the light three times back and forth in the yard. I signal to Merle and he answers. He wants me to wait. I do and he comes onto his porch wearing striped pajamas, a silky bathrobe and slippers. He looks right out of a black and white movie.

  “Sarah…I wanted to speak with you first. Sit down.”

  I sit on the top step and Meryl sits on the metal chair.

  “Donna is coming down first of next week. We’re thinking of moving into assisted living in Florida.”

  “What?”

  “Pearlie…it’s warmer…and we’d be closer to Donna…and I’d have help.”

  “I…you didn’t tell me.”

  “You’ve done…do enough. We couldn’t have lasted this long without you and Leeanne. But…it’s time.”

  “You’re alright, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but I’m going to be eighty, Sarah. Things aren’t what they used to be kid.”

  I don’t know what to say. He just threw a hand-grenade at me.

  “I know you’ll think this is some failing on your part, I know how you think, but it’s not anything like that.”

  What else could it be? I’d met Donna once or twice over the years. Donna is a root vegetable. “You can’t just…I mean your friends are here.”

  “Yes and it hurts to leave them. But I have to do what’s best for us. It’s not fair to put more on you girls.”

  “Leeanne and me…we’re all….”

  “Sarah, listen to me. We stayed an extra year because of you girls. But time doesn’t stand still. Sometimes I wish it did, or at least dragged its feet a little, but the truth is, time is never stuck…even if we are.”

  I don’t know why he’s saying this. He’s so damn philosophical about everything. I already know I’ve stayed…stuck. I know that. But there is nowhere else…no one else. Places don’t pull at me…people do. People are my geography…my better lands…my uncharted waters…my familiar terrain. People.

  But I can’t say this. I’ve just now figured it out.

  “We’ll visit,” I say.

  “Sarah,” he whispers. He shakes his head. “If I could leave here believing that…it would make it so much easier.”

  “We will,” I say firmly.

  Later, I knock on Leeanne’s door. She is sitting in the living room working at the coffee table on her macramé. Sometimes she brings these to the market. They are always one of a kind. Sometimes, she gets an offer and refuses to sell. Her cats sit around her. And her little dogs.

  “Stop checking on me,” she whines. She is in her pajamas.

  “You baking?” I can smell it, but I ask anyway.

  “You know I am.”

  “Alright.”

  It’s a relief to know the wheel has turned and she’s coming out of the black hole.

  I don’t know if Merle told her. If he did, he told her first and that bothers me. If he didn’t…I want to…tell her. But then it’s not mine to pass along. So I stand there.

  “What?” she says and I know she wants me to leave because she’s only in the mood for people sometimes.

  “You ever feel stuck?” I ask.

  “What?”

  She’s watching her sci-fi.

  “When do you want to start cutting pumpkins?” I ask instead.

  “I don’t know. Not for Wednesday. Maybe Friday.”

  I leave then.

  As I walk down Cyro’s side of the street, I make sure to pay attention but my heart feels heavy, my feet too. When I get to Cyro’s I notice how much better the window looks with some of the grime off and the white backs of the new drapes, but I haven’t quite gotten them closed in the middle and a thin slice of Cyro’s life is right there. It’s dark but for the blue light of the television flickering, and I picture him sitting there, eyes glazed over as he watches the big box, mice sitting around and on his sandwich, whiskers twitching as they chew. I have to go back in there tomorrow.

  I have to. He’s drowning.

  Across the street I already know Spencer is still on his porch. Ned has tried to bark, but I hear Spencer fussing at him.

  I keep going.

  I go to the end of the street, cross and
come back up. When I get home I can see Mom is gone. Spencer approaches. He has Ned on the leash from the shelter. “Sarah.”

  I stop at my gate and let him get closer.

  “You think he could hang with you tonight? I was going to hitch a ride to the Longbranch.”

  I’m not in the mood to hear this. I take the leash.

  “You want to come?” he says.

  I clear my throat. Like…ahem. “I have better things to do.” I hold his gaze for a minute. I want to ask him why he’s going, but I don’t. It’s not my business. Now he’ll be hung over. He won’t be there to help me with Cyro’s. I don’t care. Some other lonely sucker will grind all over him while the juke box plays. Shit, I hope it’s not Mom.

  Really, since when do I need him or anybody? Let them all leave, go their own ways.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  I take the leash, or try to. I’m holding it under his hand. He won’t let go.

  “Okay,” I say, releasing it. “I have work to do.” I push my gate.

  “Wait a minute.” His hand is on my arm. “I like Ned. I do want him back.”

  I pull my arm away. “Then give me the leash. I have to go, Spencer.”

  “Sarah, I just want to have a beer. Is that what’s bugging you?”

  “No,” I protest too strongly. I grab the leash and walk Ned to my house.

  “I’ll get him in the morning then?”

  I ignore Spencer and go in.

  I unhitch the leash and enter the kitchen to make Ned a bowl of water. King’s dishes are still in the panty and I get his bowl and refuse to get sentimental about it. I can still feel Spencer standing in front of the house. I’m sure he’s not there, but I imagine he is outside just staring. Well what does he expect? I’m tired.

  I gather all of the stuff I want to take upstairs and Ned follows me up, and his quick sloppy steps are nothing like King’s well-coordinated ones had been, until the end that is. So we go in my room and I turn on the lights and close the door. I plop on the bed and Ned comes right up with me. I never let King on my bed, but if Ned wants to flop there, it’s perfect. I don’t know it’s coming. I’m numb actually, but next thing I know I’ve fallen on Ned and I’m hanging on to him and crying my eyes out. I go whole years and don’t cry, so this is ridiculous. But Merle and Pearlie. I won’t see them. Their house…the light in the window. Merle and his quiet patience. I need him. I need Pearlie’s flaming red torch. I just…need.

  And I’m crying so hard I only think I imagine the first pecks…on the glass.

  I scream out, holy shit and fall off my bed onto my ass and I’m peeking over the bed to my window. All I can think is someone is there, and that’s so wrong I can barely let it register…it’s Spencer.

  What in the world?

  Ned is already there nearly tearing down my curtains. Spencer is trying to fuss at him to behave, and I’m on my feet and this is too much and I charge there, and Ned stands down and I lift the glass. Spencer is standing on the back porch roof. “Hey…it’s me.”

  “You scared me!” I say. “I have so much to do and you’re horsing around?”

  Ned is glad to see him, and he’s telling Ned not to bust out the screen. “Sarah, can I climb in?”

  “Are you nuts?”

  “Yeah. Can I?”

  There’s so much I could say, but I unhook the screen and stand back while he fights off Ned and climbs in.

  “Not too cool, huh?” he says, still petting Ned.

  I don’t feel any responsibility to disagree with that.

  “But you’ve been crying,” he says. He takes a step toward me, a hand…I stare at the hand. “What’s the matter? Is it me? Did you want me to go? I can stay….”

  I sniff and hurry to my dresser for a Kleenex and wipe everything dripping.

  He’s behind me in the mirror. It’s just shocking.

  His hand is on my arm again. Whenever he touches me I have to work not to stare at his hand on me.

  “No,” I finally say. I’m not ready to tell about Merle and Pearlie. I couldn’t.

  “What is it?”

  I look at him in the mirror. “I don’t know.” But I do. But I don’t.

  “Hey…is there any place to go swimming around here?”

  I am staring at him. What is this?

  “At the park, where we…at the lake there,” I say.

  “Let’s do it. Let’s take a swim in the dark. Wouldn’t it feel good?”

  “The park closes at sundown.”

  “Yeah? So what? Ned wants to swim.”

  I have so much work to do. I haven’t opened that file. “I can’t….”

  “Oh come on. You can. You really can.” Ten years drop off of him. He has this beggar’s face.

  “Just for an hour, then you go home and take Ned.”

  He’s making the sign of the cross over his heart.

  I send him downstairs so I can put on my suit under my clothes. I put my shirt and shorts back on because I’m not explaining the scar and I know he’s seen me in my underwear, but I have to keep something between us because for a girl who is stuck the current is so strong against my legs I could topple if I don’t get ahold of myself and be careful.

  What am I doing? What am I doing?

  I grab a couple of towels and in as many minutes we’re in the truck on this fool’s errand while my work gets stood up once again.

  We don’t say much. Every now and then an on-coming car breezes past, its lights cutting a slash over us like God has lifted the blinds and taken a look so he can shake his head and drop us back into the darkness…shit!

  Even Ned is subdued as he rides with his head out Spencer’s window.

  I have my hair in a braid and Spencer has reached over to dig this out of its resting place between my back and the seat. He’s holding this and moving his fingers over the ends.

  Every now and then he ganders at me for too long, and I shoot him a quick look and he smiles and turns away like a middle school girl.

  Once we get there he peels off his shirt and tosses it in the cab, and he’s not a middle-school girl, oh he’s not anything but magnetic.

  He has kicked off his shoes.

  Ned runs free, and that makes me nervous and Spencer says, “He’s alright. He knows his meal ticket now.”

  He takes my hand as we head to the water. We get there he says, “Take off your shirt at least, Sullivan. I did.”

  But I’m not going to do that. I have the towels and I toe off my shoes and lay the towels there and Ned barrels between us and splashes into the water.

  The lake has a sandy bottom here. It feels good on my feet. I’m a disgusting mess, and it’s so pretty here and there’s a breeze. Ned paddles around and we laugh but we don’t whoop it up. Spencer goes out and disappears and resurfaces. “Come out further,” he says quiet, cause you can hear easily here.

  I see his slick head, and I feel his eyes. I go back on the shore and take off my shorts. But I leave the shirt on. He watches me, but it’s alright. I’m not shy and I don’t know why.

  I get in the water, but I’m not girlish about it. I just go in, dip in deeper and swim toward him. Ned wants to go further out to reach us, but he gets to us, circles around and swims back for the shore. He staggers out and shakes off and the water in the moonlight sprays off of him.

  “Feel better?” Spencer asks, treading water.

  I do. I feel better. Not great, but this is good.

  “Float on your back,” he says. I do, and his hands are under me, and we move toward the shore and he stands and moves me in a big circle. I close my eyes, but not for long. I look at the murky sky, the sheer clouds that move quickly over the stars. Time…moving…everything…alive.

  I look at Spencer. He is so beautiful, hair slicked back, arms strong, hands against me, holding me now, the way one holds a child, the way Cyro held me when I was ten. He cradles me and he moves me through the water and he’s looking at me, and he’s near, I put my hand over his hea
rt because maybe everyone is leaving and maybe I want something…for me.

  He gathers me closer still, he’s holding me there. “Swear to God I tried to leave you,” he says. “I got as far as Merle’s and I couldn’t take another step. It’s like you had me by the suspenders and I just snapped back. I came to your window.”

  I take in a breath and it’s loud and shaky.

  “You cold?” he says.

  I’m not cold.

  He starts to sing, barely moving his lips, and he’s looking at me and we’re too close for it to be right and easy to walk away from, like it never happened.

  I don’t know why I want to cry again. It’s sweet, what’s happening, but it spears me with something so sad.

  He lets me cry a little. But I never get going. I won’t let myself.

  “What’s the matter?” he finally says, but I don’t want to talk, so he sings a little more, and it’s low and he’s watching me the whole time.

  Once we get out, and maybe we never would if Ned hadn’t started to bark at something. So once we’re out he’s holding my hand, and on shore, he turns me and I’m looking at him, and he takes the edges of my T-shirt, and I let him take it off. And his eyes go right there, to the place I’m marked above the swell of my suit top.

  “Sarah,” he whispers, his finger running in the shallow, gentle, and his eyes, “Sarah.”

  I know it might be ugly…to him…to anyone. But it’s mine, and my definition of ugly is different from most peoples.

  “Baby,” he says, and he’s waiting maybe, I don’t know. He looks from it to me again and again, and he’s touching it the whole time.

  I take my shirt from him and put it back on. I pull my braid free and pick up the towels and hand him one. He takes that and I wrap mine around my hips, then reach for my shorts and my shoes and I nod we should head for the truck, and I move because we can’t stand here all night.

  Maybe he thinks about the towel in his hand. He rubs it over his chest as he follows.

  Me and Mom Fall for Spencer

  Chapter Twenty

  In the truck on the ride home we are quiet. Ned is drowsy, sitting on the floor between Spencer’s legs.

  Spencer has a hand on Ned, a hand on my shoulder.