Saving Toby

by Suzanne McKenna Link

  “Nice view.”

  With a sigh, I raised my eyes. “Friends don’t say that sort of thing to one another.”

  He came over and purposely bumped my shoulder with his. “Who said I was talking about you? I mean, look at this yard.” With his hand, he made a sweeping gesture over the sad space. “It’s a paradise.”

  When he turned to look at me, the blue of his irises were an unusual color. In the sunlight, they were so pale they appeared almost iridescent.

  “You have pretty eyes.”

  The compliment rolled off my tongue without any thought. It seemed to catch him off guard, too.

  “You like my eyes?” he asked, a definite rise of interest.

  The back of my neck prickled with unease. I couldn’t let this get weird between us. I bowed my head and returned to my digging. “Yes, they’re nice. Now, how about grabbing a shovel and helping me?”

  Toby ignored the other shovel, though, and started moving towards the deck steps. “I will, but first, me and pretty eyes are going inside to check in with the lieutenant up in command central.”

  “Please tell the lieutenant I’ll stop in to say hello before I leave,” I said.

  He saluted me. “Will do.”

  A little while later, he came back wearing faded jeans ripped at the knees and a black tee shirt. With a toothpick in his mouth, he traded me a new bottle of cold water for the shovel. Taking over, he began to dig.

  I watched for a few moments before I said, “I just found out about your mother’s heart condition. Is it serious?”

  “Who’d you hear that from? Mrs. Doubtfire?” Seeming unconcerned, he continued shoveling.

  “Mrs. Doubtfire?” I eyed him. “Marie told me.”

  “Yeah, her. Euphegenia Doubtfire. Doesn’t Marie look like Robin Williams in a wig to you?” Toby perfectly mimicked the famous, “Hellooo!”

  “Oh, my God, yes!” I giggled.

  “But to answer your question,” he said, and stopped digging, “you have to understand something. Julia is defective … maybe the result of poor wiring, some faulty chromosomes, or something irreparable. She’s always sick — anemia, low blood sugar, poor circulation ... She’s been afflicted with just about every ailment under the sun. Pretty much her whole life.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Yeah, well, the heart thing is just another one of her background conditions. It’s all about the cancer right now. If she survives this, she’ll probably outlive us all.”

  “Oh,” I mumbled. “Marie made it sound like...”

  “Marie’s a busy body. Likes to hear herself talk.” Toby said the words without anger, despite the dig at Marie.

  “Seems she also likes you.” I tried to lighten the mood. “Said you were easy on the eyes.”

  “Hey, we need the help, so I do what I can to keep those women coming back. I’m always polite, but I got them figured out,” Toby said, with an air of knowing. “Mrs. D and the rest of those church ladies are all about the eye-candy. Every so often, I walk around without my shirt on.”

  About to pick up a shovel, I burst out laughing.

  “You are a real piece of work.”

  He grinned and said, “Thanks.”

  I had a feeling Toby would keep me amused all week.

  “Euphegenia. What a name,” I mused, tickled that he remembered it.

  “I’ll score a copy of the movie so we can watch it together sometime.” The offer was casual.

  “Sure. Sounds like fun,” I replied, certain it would never happen.

  Our project continued the next day much like the first. Toby came home, changed clothes, and met me in the yard with a bottle of water in hand. He gnawed a toothpick as he worked.

  Ripping open a bag of peat moss, he asked, “Where do you want this, Claude?”

  “Here,” I pointed at my feet. “And I prefer to be called Claud-dia.”

  “Okay, Claude.” When I sighed, he just smiled and emptied the bag, before picking up his shovel again. “You are so serious. You’re allowed to have some fun, you know.”

  “I am having fun. I’m always happy when I plan something and accomplish it.”

  He chuckled and rested his hands on the handle. “Wow, such a life of purpose.”

  I stopped shoveling. Self-conscious, I raised my eyes to his face. “Does that make me seem weird?”

  He shrugged. “Nah. Just focused, I suppose.”

  “What about you? What kind of things do you want to accomplish?”

  “Gonna climb Mount Everest, but only after I learn to speak Mandarin and recite the alphabet backwards twenty times in under one minute,” he smiled. “World record on that last one.”

  “You’re insane.” I shook my head. “Seriously, you’re not going back to Florida, are you?”

  He stopped and eyed me before answering. “Julia told you I was in Florida?”

  I nodded.

  “Nah, I’m not going back there. Too hot. But as soon I can, I’m getting the hell out of here.” He stomped heavily on the butt of the shovel blade, and it disappeared into the dirt.

  “Why?” I watched him maneuver a heavy load of soil with ease.

  “'Cause unlike you, I don’t have a plan.”

  “You could take a few liberal arts classes at Suffolk Community,” I offered, thinking I could help Mrs. Faye out by touting the benefits of staying home. “Maybe you’ll find something that interests you. How about criminal justice?”

  “School has never been my thing.” He shook his head. “And the law, even less.”

  “There are lots of career offerings. You need to explore the options,” I insisted.

  “I am exploring the options. In other cities. In other states.” He dropped the shovel, ripped open the last bag of topsoil, and dumped it. “What about you? You said you applied for a transfer. Where did you apply to?”

  “I’m pretty much set to go to University of Southern California.”

  He blew a low whistle. “Maybe we’re not so different after all. Even you want to get far away from this place.”

  “I picked USC because my mother is in San Diego. I’m not trying to get away from Sayville. I love it here.”

  “What could you possibly love about this place? Around here, we’re all labeled, classified in one of two groups. Group one is the bunch that makes the big bucks, like Jim Ryan’s family—people with six-figure incomes. If you’re unfortunate enough to be in group two, you’re pretty much invisible.”

  “I think you’re generalizing. I never felt invisible.”

  “That’s because you’re in group one, Claude. Your dad is a Suffolk County cop.”

  Dad was well paid, but not wanting to get into a financial discussion, I digressed. “But still, there’s a great sense of community here. People actually envy me when I tell them where I live.”

  “If you love it so much, why do you want to leave?”

  “I need to put space between my father and me,” I said, bending to incorporate the new soil into the garden.

  “Officer Chiametti isn’t an easy guy to live with?”

  I nodded. It was no secret. Anyone who knew my father knew he was intense. “I admire him and all, but I can’t breathe without him wanting to know the details. He is suspicious of everybody. He didn’t even want me to work here, for your mom. You’d think I was coming to work for a hardened criminal,” I said.

  Toby didn’t respond right away. He pushed around the dirt without any real effort and said, “My brother is as ‘hardened’ a criminal as they come. He killed someone. It makes sense that your dad would be concerned.”

  “Yes, I guess you’re right.” Embarrassed by my slip, I kept talking to move past it. “But his concern is always over the top. He knows there’s no real danger here anymore, but he never trusts anyone or anything. Living with him sometimes feels like walking a tightrope—watching every little step, trying to avoid fallout. I’m sure that’s why my parents got divorced.”

  “I didn’t know you
r parents divorced,” he said.

  “I was seventeen,” I explained to him. “My parents wanted more kids, but my mom miscarried a couple times before they gave up. Once I started school, my mother tried to play house for a while, but she claims she was never cut out for that life. She wanted a career. They clashed over it. I don’t blame her for getting out. I won’t let him bully me like that either.”

  “Too bad he didn’t learn to back off after your mother left. 'Cause it only makes sense now that you’re old enough, you’d abandon ship, too,” he said.

  Abandon. The word hit me with unexpected force and burned like acid in my heart. For a brief moment, my mouth twitched, and I was unsure if I should growl or cry. I let the shovel fall to the ground and drifted over to the deck steps.

  “Whoa. Touchy subject.” Toby followed as I folded myself down onto the bottom step and pressed my forehead to my knees. A moment later, he sat down next to me.

  I kept my eyes cast down. “I know it may not sound like it, but my mom didn’t abandon him. Or me. And me going away is because I want this and not because I want to hurt my father,” I said, feeling a need to explain it to him.

  “Sorry, it was a stupid thing to say.” Toby rubbed a knuckle, the only clean part of his hand, up my arm.

  He couldn’t have known how talking about this would affect me—he didn’t know how I battled with this very thing. “It’s not your fault. I just don’t want to feel guilty about going to California.”

  “Then don’t. Don’t feel guilty.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. Your mother willingly let you go when you wanted to leave.”

  “She really didn’t have a choice,” he said. “Don’t let your dad hold you here. Do what you want to do. Go.”

  I raised my head and looked at him. Even though I didn’t feel as sure as I would have liked to, I said, “I will.”

  Our eyes held for a long moment, and a swirl of current passed between us. It made my toes curl. He leaned towards me. I had a feeling he was going to kiss me. Though I suspected it would feel nice, I swallowed hard and quickly looked away.

  “Let’s finish up here.”

  12. Claudia

  After classes on Thursday, I stopped at the garden center to select flowers and headed over the Fayes’ house. I stopped inside to visit with Mrs. Faye before getting dirty.

  She was in the den sitting on the couch looking over a catalog with her sister. The scene was so ordinary, but not something I’d seen her do before, and it cheered me.

  “How’s the project going? Has Toby been helpful?” Mrs. Faye asked.

  “It’s going great, and Toby has been terrific,” I said. “Couldn’t have done it without him.”

  “For someone who’s never shown any interest before, I’ve never seen him so anxious to get out in that yard,” Mrs. Faye bubbled with delight. Her laughter was like the ringing of tiny bells; it was such a happy sound.

  “You know what Momma used to say, Julia. ‘The twist of a woman’s hair…’ A pretty girl can get boys to do many things he wouldn’t normally do.”

  The sisters exchanged knowing looks, and my cheeks flushed at the insinuation.

  When I got back outside, Toby was already in the yard, raking out one of the older flowerbeds, clearing it of the snarls of leaves that impeded the perennials planted there. At the sound of the sliding door, he turned to me and smiled. Before he could speak, his phone rang. He eyed the caller ID with a frown and held up a finger to signal me to hold on.

  As I crouched down and began planting the flowers, I watched him. His face was already tanned, but now it had a new glow from our few days in the sun. He absently paced the yard while talking, which presented a nice opportunity to admire him from different angles.

  Over the last few days with Toby, I had become an avid fan of his quirky, conceited humor. As exasperating as he was when he challenged my opinions, I enjoyed the teasing. I’d laughed so much during the time we spent together. I liked, too, that he had a warm, sincere side. His compassion during my meltdown tugged at my heart, and, even if it were, as his Aunt Joan said, a ‘twist of my hair,’ his interest in my gardening project impressed me.

  I only wished he were a different kind of guy—one with a more deliberate focus and less cynical outlook on life.

  A few minutes later, Toby finished his call and got down on his hands and knees next to me to help finish planting the rest of the flowers.

  “Bad news?” I asked about the phone call.

  He shrugged. “It was Dev. He’s been trying to kiss and make up with me. I guess cracking his head didn’t get my message across.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing,” Toby replied, aloof. “I told you, I’m done with him.”

  “Good,” was all I said. I was relieved.

  “I’m glad you think so, cause now you’re stuck with me.” He stood and gathered the shovels to take them back into the barn. “You’re officially my new best friend.”

  “Lucky me,” I mocked, goading him to a humorous scowl.

  He went to the barn and came back carrying a coiled watering hose. Unrolling it, he handed me the end. I pulled the trigger on the rusted old nozzle. It worked. And leaked. A steady stream rained down on my sneakers.

  “Great! I’m getting my feet watered, too.”

  “After this, we’ll both need to be hosed down.” He showed me his blackened hands. His tee shirt and face were smudged with dirt stains, too.

  I smiled. “I can help with that.” Aiming the hose, I soaked the whole front of his shirt.

  “Hey!” He laughed covering his face. Taking the full blast of the spray, he closed the distance between us and easily pulled the hose from my hands. I yelped and ran away, but not before he wet down the top of my head and the back of my shirt with icy cold water. When he finally turned off the spray, we were both sopping wet and breathless with laughter.

  “So, now that we’re done,” Toby said, sitting on the deck steps and yanking off his muddy work boots, “can I bring Julia out?”

  “Oh, yes!” I nodded, eager for her to see our efforts.

  Minutes later, Toby held his mother’s hand as he steered her outside. Stooping forward, Mrs. Faye stepped out onto the deck. “You’re done already?”

  “Yep.” Toby used his free arm to motion to the flowerbed. “Your paradise, madam.”

  I stepped behind her to see the yard from her point of view. The emerging green perennials in the outlying beds could now be clearly seen where Toby had raked them, further complimenting our new, colorful flowerbed.

  “Oh, my,” Mrs. Faye took my hand and clutched it to her while she leaned forward to admire the new plantings. “The yard looks so beautiful.” She turned to face us, her watery eyes large in her thin face. “You don’t know what this means to me. God bless you both.” As weak as she was, her smile was so beautiful, my chest felt like it just might burst.

  Toby walked his mother back into the house and returned several minutes later, having washed up and put on a clean tee shirt.

  “Sorry if Julia’s gushing was a little much.” He leaned against the deck rail.

  “No, not at all.” I shook my head. “I love your mom.”

  “Yeah, and it’s clear she thinks you’re ‘all that.’ You got a framed five by seven of yourself for her night table?” he asked, crossing his arms.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of making you share that spot with me. I’ll give her an eight by ten for her dresser.”

  “Whoa, a whole lot of ‘tude,’ to go with the sweetness. That’s pretty hot.” Chuckling, he walked over to the barbeque grill near the back of the house, and lifted the hood. “How about something to eat? Julia wants me to feed you.”

  “The question is, can you feed me?” I eyed him skeptically.

  “What?” Toby feigned surprise. “You doubt my culinary skills?”

  “Well, frankly, yes. You don’t seem like the cooking type.”

  “Stick around, I will amaze you.”
He gave me a positively smug grin and then, wire brush in hand, began scrubbing the metal grill.

  “Amaze away, Master Chef Faye. Meanwhile, I need to wash up and call home.”

  “You know where the bathroom is. I left a clean shirt on the counter in case you want to change.”

  “Thanks.” I liked that he’d thought to offer me one of his shirts. I went inside and took it off the counter. In the bathroom, I sniffed it, trying to catch that familiar musky scent.

  No trace.

  I washed my face and did the best I could to get the dirt out from under my nails. Toby’s shirt was a lightweight button up and hung loosely on me. I buttoned the first three buttons, and tied the shirttails. When I left the bathroom and reentered the kitchen, I had to step back as Toby bustled about, cutting onions and sprinkling spices.

  “Here,” he said, taking each of my arms and rolling the sleeves to fit. I stood patiently, resisting the urge to lean forward and try to smell him. He looked me over approvingly and then pulled two dishes from a cabinet and handed them to me.

  “Next time, I’ll take you out for dinner.”

  “Friends night out?” I asked. “We can ask Dario and April to come.”

  “No friends. You. Me. Date.”

  I shook my head. “We’ve been over this.”

  “But we have more in common now.” He paused to pick up a package of hamburger rolls. “We’re not only both Yankee fans, but gardeners. And Mrs. Doubtfire fans.”

  I laughed. “I’m sorry, but I stand firm on the no dating thing.”

  He exhaled at my rejection. “Oh, Claude, you’re killing my ego.”

  I set the outdoor table while Toby was busy at the barbeque, and then stepped away to call my father. I told him Mrs. Faye had insisted on feeding me, though I didn’t mention that she wasn’t eating with us. I promised not to be too late as I had some studying to do anyway.

  Our dinner was simple, but good. Burgers, grilled asparagus, and a pasta salad Toby swore he made, but I knew Marie had brought over.

  We sat, we ate, and he continued to make me laugh over and over again. When we were finished, we cleaned up together and went back outside to admire our garden. As the sun made its last appearance in the sky, we talked for a while about our plans for the summer.