Me and Mom Fall for Spencer

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Me and Mom Fall for Spencer Page 24

by Diane Munier


  “Yeah, I brought…our mother. He uh…he won’t see me. She’s a…in there with him now.”

  All I can do is bite my lip and stare.

  “So ah…he gardens?” he asks this with good nature, but he’s smirking. There’s a sadness in him, and he rubs the back of his neck.

  “You spied on us,” I finally say.

  “Oh…sorry. It’s just…when we realized he was here…we sent someone to make sure…see if he was alright.” He’s boyish, the way he speaks. Likeable…dimples. If not for Spencer, what I’ve felt, if not for that I might even trust him.

  “You thought he wasn’t…alright?” I say.

  “We didn’t know. We hadn’t heard from him in almost two years.”

  I nod. I’m in a vice here—between what I know and what I don’t. Between Spencer and him…the cousin with the same mother? I don’t want to learn anything from Davis. It’s hard to not know, to let him see I don’t. Of course, he could never believe I mean anything to Spencer if I don’t know…the basics. And I don’t.

  “Well…nice meeting you. I…” I point down the street and take off.

  “Sarah,” he calls after. I stop and turn. “I don’t know what he told you…but I love him, you know? He’s…like my brother. I’m…just here to make amends…if I can.”

  I turn away and continue to walk. I almost run.

  We stand at the grave, the three of us, Pearlie, her red hair exploding around the sides of the pancake hat. Leeanne silent, shrouded in a navy blue poncho she loves to try and hide her body in. I know this because she calls it her hide-a-body and it’s older than many people’s old dogs.

  My arms hang stupidly because death is so beyond our control we have to hire people to say the right things and get us through the ritual of painting the body to look natural…naturally not dead. And I sure don’t have a thing to say.

  “Donna wanted him cremated so she could take him to Florida,” Pearlie says, sad amusement in her eyes. “He hated…vases.”

  For a minute we don’t say anything, but Leeanne is the first to laugh. Merle might have hated vases but he really would have hated saddling Pearlie with his remains. The fact Donna didn’t know said a lot. Merle never wanted to be anyone’s responsibility. He said, “Plant me and be done with it.” He said that more than once.

  When we’re quiet again Leeanne says, “We put people in the earth, then we buy two boxes…a box in a box to protect them from the earth. It’s just to get our money. It’s stupid.”

  There’s a wind. Pearlie’s hat blows off and Leeanne goes off to chase it, her poncho trying to act like a kite.

  Pearlie and me laugh.

  “Merle did that,” Pearlie says as Leeanne’s back, handing the hat to her.

  Leeanne looks at me and we laugh some more. Pearlie too.

  “Will you watch over him, Sarah?” Pearlie says. “Put some flowers here on his birthday?”

  Wow. She knows I don’t take this lightly. I’ve got a couple of others here…Fred Sullivan and Sue Brown. We only tiptoe past Fred, glad he’s six feet under and hoping he can’t dig out. But Sue, we bring her flowers now and then…Jason and me.

  “Could you leave here?” Spencer asked me. I’ve never been so uncertain before. I am nailed here. That makes it my cross. That makes me its savior.

  “I can do that,” I tell Pearlie.

  That’s when my truck pulls up and Spencer is driving. He gets out of the truck and he’s got his guitar. My heart…well my heart. The fact he’s here…I don’t need words. He’s here.

  I fold my hands and go up on my toes and back down. Leeanne is looking at me, shaking her head, hiding her face in her hair as she smiles. What she doesn’t realize, he’s strumming a few chords from the song he continually writes about me—She’s a girl, she’s a girl.

  I look at him, and he’s strumming like that as he approaches, his eyes taking my pulse, my temperature, reading my retinas. I see the swollen knuckles on his guitar hand. I see the fat lip, too.

  He comes up near me and he switches to “Amazing Grace.” He already knows from the funeral this was Merle’s stand by. Pearlie is smiling at Spencer while he plays. Mostly he looks at me and I see it…the turmoil he almost masks with the lovely hymn. When he’s finished he says, “Anything else Merle liked Miss Pearlie?”

  “Well,” Miss Pearlie says, “he liked a little James Brown.”

  We have to crack up then. Leeanne especially. Miss Pearlie just made Leeanne’s year.

  “Okay,” Spencer says and he does his best for a white boy.

  Miss Pearlie is smiling ear to ear. I can’t look at him. He’s kind of being sexual, flinging his head around and moving his shoulders some…and his hips. We’re all blushing. Even Miss Pearlie is flushed and Leeanne looks about ready to die.

  But there is no stopping him, and he puts his whole self into it and Pearlie stands there clutching her purse and listening like Merle might rise for the guitar instead of the trumpet.

  Spencer falls to his knees for the finale.

  As he leaps back onto his feet, Miss Pearlie has moved her bag to her arm and she’s rapidly clapping her hands. Her teeth are locked in such a grin that her cheeks are bunched into little dumplings. No one should be this happy at a fresh grave, should they?

  “Oh that was real nice,” Pearlie says.

  Leeanne takes Pearlie’s arm because our memorial service is apparently over.

  We are behind the two walking to Merle’s car. Spencer takes hold of my hand. “You alright Sarah?”

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “Can you ride with me?” He’s turning them on me, the lasers, the sting rays, the death rays. He’s desperately worried, knocked off center. Their sudden arrival has rattled him deep down.

  “No,” I say. Leeanne won’t drive Merle’s car. So Spencer ends up having to follow us back to the neighborhood. I park the vehicle and see Pearlie inside. She has a box of things she wants me to take. I can see the big green ceramic ballerina top of the box, also the ceramic black panther with his mouth open and his gold teeth. Leeanne’s trying not to laugh again.

  “Thanks Pearlie.”

  I’ll see them in the morning when I take them to the airport.

  I come downstairs and Spencer has the truck running. I walk on by him with my box of treasures and junk. I can see the rental right away, see the fancy car is gone.

  My truck is pointed the opposite way. Spencer calls me, but I keep walking with the box. I hear him pull off and I know he’s turning around. It’s win-over-Sarah time.

  “Hey pretty girl,” he says driving along as I walk. Thankfully I am almost to the driveway. I cross it and he pulls in. “Sarah,” he’s saying, cranking the door.

  I keep walking and he catches up, takes my arm. “Hey,” he says, eyes searching. “Here, give this to me.”

  He takes the clinking box. Our dogs have spotted us from in the yard and they’re going crazy. Mom’s car is still here. I lead the way and we go inside. I take the box upstairs and he tells me he’s going to be in back with the dogs.

  I can’t bear to look through the box yet, so I set it on my bed and go back down. Mom isn’t around. Surely she’s not still at Cyro’s. Spencer is sitting on the deck stairs. I sit beside him. He puts his arm around me, the sore hand close to my face and kisses my temple with his fat lips. I hurt I love him so much.

  “You made them leave,” I say.

  “Yes. It was ridiculous…they rent a house next door. Only my family, Sarah. They have money without borders. I’m so sorry you had to have that come in so suddenly not even knowing who…or what…. All I could think was to get you as far away from it. Baby…I’m so sorry.”

  I can still see how upset he is. He’d masked it at the cemetery. But I’m not going to make this so easy by saying all the words. I’m upset too. They are his family and he hasn’t introduced me. I said I’d marry him. I want to be a part of his life, his whole life. And he’s sent them away.

  “It d
oesn’t change anything…just like I told you. Sarah?”

  “It does for me. I didn’t get to meet them.”

  He’s taken aback. I can feel the big uht-oh shaking through him. “No, Baby. No. I walked away…a couple of years ago. For reasons. They don’t get to meet you.”

  “Was she your mom?” She barely looked old enough. She is beautiful. Like him.

  “My aunt acting like my mother.”

  He threads his fingers through mine. He won’t let the dogs come too close but stamps his foot and they step back. “I…it was my cousin…you met….”

  “Davis?”

  “Yeah, the ass. He told me he met you.”

  “He came out when I was walking to Pearlie’s and introduced himself.” That’s how I had to meet him.

  “What did he say to you?”

  “He said he knew me. From pictures. He said…he loves you.” I don’t know if I’m defending them or my right to know them.

  “Oh geez that ass.”

  “Did you punch him?”

  He checks his hand. “He has no boundaries, approaching you like that.”

  “He…hit back?” I ask motioning to his swollen lip.

  “Um…no. I hit it on his shoulder…somehow. He had no right to approach you. It got…heated. You’re mine to introduce…or not. He had no right,” he repeats. He’s intense.

  “The only weird thing was me not knowing…anything. I felt embarrassed.”

  This gives him pause. “I knew I’d have to tell you, and I wanted to do it in my own time.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t expect you to understand…but you’re mine…my girl…my friend…my choice…the woman I want to be with,” he kisses my hand, my lips. He feels over my face like a blind man. “They can’t touch you. Not you. I’ll give my life to protect you. I won’t allow anyone to hurt you. Not if I can prevent it.”

  “Are they so bad?” I finally whisper. There is something so deep in him…an almost frantic concern, as if they’d tried to kidnap me.

  “Let me tell you something about them Sarah…you’d meet them…like with Davis…God I don’t even want to say his name…but you’d meet them and love them. That’s how it is. They can work it…you know? They have perfect skills for drawing people in, and if they can’t there’s their endless money. But there’s always an agenda…always…and it’s more about them than you. Every time.”

  “Was there a woman, Spencer? Is that what it is?”

  I feel his dread. He’s ashamed. “That’s part of it. We were going to get married. I find out my own so-called brother betrayed me with my fiancé. And they all knew. When I found out…they think I broke down…fell apart. I know that’s what they think, that’s what they say, a breakdown. But Sarah…it was a break-through.

  “I had to get away from them. He’s their son. Not me. Then he has the nerve to approach you? To come here and approach you?

  They’re getting married. That’s what this is about…Davis and Carolyn. Brenda and her baby boy came here so I could lift it off of them…the guilt. What am I supposed to do? Be his best man…drive there for Christmas? See how it is?”

  He looks at his hand, flexes his fingers. “It’s not that I haven’t let it go…I have. I’m not in love with her…they can have each other. But my parents…my real parents are dead, Sarah. It just took me a few years to realize it. You think I wanted to bring all that here between us? I’ve been too happy. I left all of this bullshit on that trail.”

  Inside me, a new movie is being threaded, ready to run. “How…did your parents die?”

  “Dad had a plane…he was a pilot. Sometimes if someone in town lost a loved one out of state…Dad would pick up the body. Mom only went with him one time. He crashed shortly after take-off down in Texas…a malfunction. They were killed. I was only eight when I went to live with Aunt Brenda and her husband Walter. They had a kid my age. You’ve met.”

  “She called you Erich.”

  “Spencer is my last name. My real father’s name. When I went to live with my aunt I thought it was a fine idea to let them change my name to Jorgen. But…I’ve changed it now.”

  “And Erich?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Gundry?”

  His smile is sheepish. “The guy who ran the motel in Oregon.”

  “What’s…wrong with Erich? The name? You said….”

  “My grandfather. He was in it with them.”

  “She looked so sad…your aunt I mean.”

  “I pretty much adored her. She stepped in after the loss. She was…great.”

  “Did you and Davis get along?”

  “I didn’t make an issue of things. But I knew very young we had different..scruples, different ways of seeing life. He’s very likeable. He has this…charm.”

  Spencer is also charming but I don’t say this. “You taught high school?”

  “Yes for seven years. But I did go into the family business when…Walter got sick--cancer. Brenda was beside herself. During that time Brenda also introduced me to Carolyn and…we dated and it was all the same circle. I dodged the marriage bullet so long I finally succumbed to the pressure and proposed hoping for the world’s longest engagement.

  “The family business entails selling industrial equipment and includes a great deal of travel. I like travel but it wasn’t my ideal for a marriage, me being on the other side of the world from my wife. But going into it was a compromise…for Brenda. I had to help the family out…or it was presented as such. The whole family wanted me rich and successful. It’s like joy came, and Walter was doing better. Brenda had been so worried and depressed, then…but she was happy again. Looking at it from this vantage point, I can see myself selling out bit by bit. It was my own fault.”

  “Did you…love Carolyn?”

  “I love you, Sarah. I had an affection for her. It’s all I seemed capable of. Before Carolyn even. I hit a wall, like I couldn’t find the willpower to love someone. You taught me the difference, I’ve never been like this, never felt like this. Carolyn got the old me…dishonest…to myself and to her,” he says looking at me, his eyes…he wants me to get this.

  “I was so preoccupied I didn’t see it. When I found out, I walked away. There was nothing to stay for. I pulled my money out of the bank and took a long, long walk to clear my head. After a winter of my own lousy company I picked a small town, a small life. I came here. I met you. And it all makes sense.

  “They did me a favor. I fell for you the day I looked through that jungle along the fence. This beautiful creature looked back at me. It moved me to shave.”

  “Me too,” I say, and he laughs.

  I slowly put my arms around him and he lays his head on mine. “Will I ever meet her…this woman you call mother? Did you give them any hope for the future, Spencer?”

  “I told them to leave. I’d get in touch when I was ready. If I was ever ready.”

  “You said that? They are your family, Spencer. She took you in. You…you hurt together…and maybe…she saved you. It’s like you don’t believe they can ever learn…as you have. You don’t have any hope for them,” I say, realizing I have this whole philosophy that has kept me hanging on to Mom.

  “They betrayed me. I don’t trust they won’t hurt me again, or worse hurt you. And that I’m not willing to risk.”

  I know this is his deepest fear.

  But I realize I’m different. I keep a crack in the door, right or wrong, it’s what I do. Even with Fred, if he wouldn’t have died that day…I’d probably be going to the prison on Father’s Day or something weird like that. I’d crack the door and hope a sliver of light might touch him.

  Frieda…Merle…they cracked the door. Maybe they are why I’m this way.

  Spencer is justice. Like Cyro.

  But I hope. The world needs both. I do.

  Spencer moves to stand on one of the stairs below me. He leans toward me, his hands on my shoulders.

  “You’re my life,” he says with al
l this verve like he’s about to make a great speech. Of course with his ass to the yard that way it’s only a matter of time before Lucky or Ned say hello. Spencer stands and swats at the offender. “Mother-effers,” he yells.

  Now we’re laughing. I stand with him and we are wrapped up in one another. “You should have introduced me to her at least.”

  “Baby I’m sorry,” he says kissing me with that plump sore lip. “I’m not…but I am.”

  I get it. I do. “After all, I’ve never hid Mom. She fell in love with you too, you know.” I try to smile, but the idea of Mom loving Spencer…or anyone really, and yes I can finally admit it, we have to smile at least.

  Then I hear a tiny noise near the backdoor and I realize she’s been listening possibly to our whole conversation. Spencer has heard it too, and we stare at one another.

  “We’ll be different,” he says. “Look at it this way, it won’t be hard to do better. We’ll make a great life.”

  I know that we will. We already are.

  Me and Mom Fall for Spencer

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Theory has it that the moon was once a part of the earth and there was some kind of a collision and it splintered off and took its rightful place in the universe reflecting the light in its own unique way back to the mother-ship. I tell this to Spencer that same night his family shows up, as we stand in the yard looking up at the big, full dinner plate made out of some kind of green cheese.

  It reminds me of him, leaving his family, standing apart and alone…taking the sun…and making it special…beautiful.

  He tells me he walked away from a life he no longer believed in. He left it, left them behind. And he walked to me, he said. Okay, he rode too, on a bus. But he found me.

  Here’s how it goes. The next morning we are driving Merle’s Cadillac to take Pearlie and Leeanne to the airport. Spencer likes the Cadillac and Pearlie asks him if he wants to buy it and he says yes. And he offers to write her a check. He always carries one in his wallet, and she wants two thousand dollars and he scoffs at that and pays her six.

  She’s going to fight him on it, but Leeanne says, “Take it, geez.”

 

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