Is This Tomorrow

by Caroline Leavitt

  “I’m not sure,” Ava said. She started to type again. Her eyes hurt, as if she had seeds in them. She wished she could go out now and find Jake and talk to him. By four that day, Ava realized she had only typed up six invoices and she had at least twenty shuffled into her in-box. She walked to the candy machine, but instead of putting the money in the slot, she turned to the pay phone and dialed Jake. There was that strange swimmy feeling again. When he answered, his voice sleepy, she cleared her throat.

  “You love me,” she said.

  “I always have.”

  “Then yes,” she told him.

  “Yes what?” he said.

  “What do you think?” Ava said, and then Jake laughed and she heard this rattling sound. It took her a moment to realize it was her hand shaking, banging the receiver against the wall. A week later, she flashed the small ring Jake had bought for her, a tiny chip of light on her finger, and Betty and Charmaine swooned. “Imagine that. First Cathy gets hitched and now you,” Charmaine said wistfully. Ava knew how lucky she was. Most women didn’t get remarried, let alone when they were in their forties. Jake was going to move into her house—their house—soon. With his extra income, she could probably buy it by next year.

  She called Lewis on a night when Jake was out playing a gig at the Blue Owl. He had never liked Jake. What if he wouldn’t come to the wedding? She couldn’t get married without her son being there. His phone kept ringing. He was probably still on his road trip with Rose. Maybe the two of them had given up finding Brian and had had gone on an adventure instead. She couldn’t help but hope that the pull of love was stronger than his wanting to find his father.

  She hung up the phone. She had had her share of uneasy nights, the times when just the sound of the phone would make her start because she never knew who it was and what they might want from her. The nights when she’d sit up, the bills fanning around her on the dining room table. Those nights, she’d walk into Lewis’s room and watch him sleep, all tangled boy, the heat of his skin rising up, his hair mashed against the pillow. I made this, she thought. He was her reason. She would stand there watching him until she felt better.

  Ava went into Lewis’s old room. She knew he probably wouldn’t ever live there again, but she had kept his bed in there, his books, some of his things, and sometimes during the day she came in here and read. Boys. Way back when she had been pregnant, she knew Brian wanted a boy. He kept bringing home miniature-sized baseball bats and gloves and balls. Still, the whole time she was giving birth, she kept thinking, Annabelle, Christine, Joella, and then the doctor had boomed, “It’s a fine boy!” and for one second, Ava had thought there had to be a mistake.

  But she had fallen hard for Lewis. He had been a cautious little boy who preferred to keep his feet on the ground. He could be happy right now. He could be in bed with Rose, the woman he loved, that Ava loved, too, and she wouldn’t know, and that was the way it was supposed to be.

  She heard a key in the lock and glanced at the time. Just after midnight. Almost the hour of the wolf. She walked out into the hall and there was Jake, and even from there, she could smell the smoky club on him, she could feel the cold of the night air on his skin. “Hey babe,” she said, and he looked at her, surprised.

  “You’re up,” he said. “I was going to surprise you in your sleep.” He gave her a grin. She walked to him, her bare feet padding on the cold floor and she rested her head against his shoulder. “I missed you,” she said. “I’ve missed you for so long.”

  LATER, IN BED, she curled around him, warming her feet between his. He looked down at her, laughing. He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers.

  “I wish I had known you before,” he said. “I wish I had been your first boyfriend, your first husband, that you hadn’t had to go through all that stuff. I wish you had never had to live here.”

  “I like it here,” she said.

  He took a strand of her hair and wrapped it around his finger, tugging her closer to him. “I know this is horrible to say, but I can’t help thinking that we’ve been made possible because of a horrible tragedy,” he said.

  Ava drew the sheets around her. “What do you mean?” she said.

  Jake turned so he was facing her. He took her hands in his, blowing on them, as if they were cold. “Well, we have this great thing, don’t we? I just remember how it was, with all the neighbors watching us, with Lewis not really liking me.”

  “Lewis was a child then. And the neighbors are different now.”

  “I know that, but Jesus, back then. And those cops. And then when Jimmy vanished, it all fell apart. But now, it’s like we met at a better time. Do you know what I mean?”

  Ava stared at him. “No,” she said. “I don’t.” Jake leaned closer to her, as if he were about to tell her a secret. “Something happened the day Jimmy disappeared,” he said.

  JAKE TOLD AVA that the first time he came into Ava’s neighborhood, he had been spooked before he even knocked on her door. He knew people said that the suburbs were the life, that they fled from their city apartments in droves just for a patchy plot of grass and a squashed little ranch house with a backyard. Kids were safe here, people could have real lives, family lives. He’d heard it a million times. But he was a city guy. He wanted to be in the center of things, and he was lucky he had found a house in Cambridgeport. It had been a dump when he had bought it dirt cheap, but he took his time fixing it up until it was worth twice what he had paid for it. He had loved the buzz of Cambridgeport, how you could ramble out of bed at three in the morning and find the streets hopping, where you could find coffee or eggs or spaghetti at all hours. He had loved the sea of people washing along the sidewalks, the way any moment he might catch someone’s eye. The city had a rhythm, its own melody, propelling him.

  Ava’s street had made him want to turn right around and get out of there. All Jake could see was the line of houses, like an endless row of shoeboxes, neatly perched on lawns all carefully trimmed like an expensive haircut. There weren’t enough trees, at least not yet, just these spindly seedlings aching to grow. All of the houses, except for Ava’s bright blue one, were the same washed-out pastel shade with identical patio-stone walkways—you’d never be able to tell them apart. Suburbia. You could take it, as far as he was concerned, and throw it into the ocean. “It’s convenient,” she said, telling him about the Drake’s Cakes truck that came by every week, the Fuller Brush men and Avon ladies, the scissor and knife sharpener, the milkman. “I step outside my door and I can find those things anytime I want. We have these things called stores,” he told her, and she laughed.

  There were other things that had unsettled him. He knew Ava came with a child, that Lewis was part of the package, and though Jake wasn’t really a kid person, he did his best to position himself right, to know what to expect. He asked Ava about Lewis a lot. What kind of kid was he? Did he play baseball? Was he smart? Did he have friends? He got her to show him pictures and he exclaimed over the kid’s freckles and big eyes. Ava was always happy to talk to him about her son, her voice sounding like it had been dipped in honey. God, but she loved that boy. She told him how smart Lewis was even though he didn’t get good grades in school. She mentioned how Lewis ached for his father, a man who didn’t deserve such adoration, and she told him about Rose and Jimmy, how they were practically like her other set of kids. Especially Jimmy, Lewis’s best friend. Good, Jake thought. Lewis had a best friend, which meant he’d be kept busy and wouldn’t interfere too much with Jake’s alone time with Ava, but when Ava told him how often Jimmy came around and how she got the impression Jimmy was a little in love with her, Jake felt uneasy. “Don’t encourage him,” Jake said.

  On the day Jimmy had disappeared, he had hoped to come over early, but she had told him she was leaving to go to work around four. He thought that while she was gone, maybe he’d surprise her by fixing her broken porch step. It only took him a few minutes to fix and he was about to leave for home to shower and get dressed for their date that
night. Of course, he was a little nervous, since it would be his first time meeting Lewis. But then he felt someone watching, and he turned to see a kid skulking in the bushes, watching him through a bright turquoise toy periscope.

  “What, you think I’m spying for the Reds?” Jake said. He made his own hands into binocular circles and put them to his eyes, as if he were lining up the boy in his sights. “Who are you?” Jake asked.

  “Jimmy.”

  Jimmy lowered the periscope and stood up and Jake’s hands fell back along his sides.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Jake asked him.

  “School’s over for today,” Jimmy said, tucking the periscope into one of his pants pockets.

  “Where are your friends?”

  “At a dopey church carnival. And Lewis is my best friend and he had to go to the dentist.” He shrugged. “I can’t wait for my sister Rose forever. I don’t even know where she is.” Jimmy looked around the neighborhood. “Anyway, nothing’s happening.”

  “Why don’t you wait for them at your house?”

  “I can be here. It’s a free country.” Jimmy just stood there, his feet planted in Ava’s scrubby grass. “So are you and Ava getting married or something?” Jimmy said.

  “I would say that’s none of your business,” Jake said. The kid stood his ground for a minute until Jake said, “You should go home,” making his voice an edge and then Jimmy moved to Jake’s motorcycle, casually stuck out a sneaker, and kicked the motorcycle. “Hey!” Jake called, and Jimmy jumped back, but the look he gave Jake was defiant.

  “What’s the matter with you? Why would you do something like that?” Jake said. “This is not a toy.”

  Jimmy’s mouth trembled and for a moment Jake thought he was going to cry, which was all he would need. He cleared his throat. “The problem with us is, we’re both in love with Ava,” he said quietly. “Am I right?” The kid didn’t deny it. He just continued to stare at Jake.

  “Be a man and talk to me,” Jake said. He knew kids liked it when you treated them like equals, like adults, but Jimmy’s mouth was pressed shut. Time to try another tact.

  “Then I’ll talk to you. You know what the big difference between us is? I’m an adult and you’re a kid, and you need to be with other kids your own age,” Jake said. He said it louder than he had expected. “Go,” Jake said. “You need to get lost.”

  “I live here,” Jimmy said. “This is my neighborhood and Ava’s my friend. Maybe you’re the one who needs to get lost.” Jimmy turned and kicked the motorcycle again, harder this time, sending it crashing to the ground. Zigzag lines cracked in the rear view mirror, and Jimmy’s face paled. The mirror was expensive. The bike was Jake’s pride, and here was this kid pushing it over like it was nothing. Without thinking, he grabbed Jimmy’s shirt, gathering it in his fingers. He tugged him up hard, so the boy rocked off his heels and was lifted into the air. Jimmy gasped, and as soon as he did, Jake’s hands flew open, his fingers trembled. Jimmy tumbled to the sidewalk. Jake bent to offer his hand, but Jimmy refused it. What was the matter with him, grabbing a kid like that? What was he thinking?

  “Are you okay?” Jake asked, forcing himself to soften his tone.

  “I’m telling,” Jimmy said hotly.

  “There’s nothing to tell,” Jake said, but he felt something snaking up his spine.

  “You grabbed me,” Jimmy accused.

  The sun was too hot. A thin line of sweat prickled along his back. In the distance, he heard a dog barking hysterically. “I didn’t mean to,” Jake said. Jimmy put his hands on his hips and Jake suddenly felt how ridiculous the whole situation was. The kid’s face was dirty. His shirt was untucked from his shorts, his sneakers all scribbled over. What was the matter with him, feeling jealous of a little boy? Better to befriend this kid, have him be on his side, and Jake knew just the way to do it, too. “Hey,” he said. “How’d you like a ride on my motorcycle?”

  A light flickered in Jimmy’s eyes. “Really? It’s not broke?”

  “Just the mirror and that can be fixed.”

  “You’re not kidding?”

  “We’ll go really, really slow.”

  “Honest? For real?” Jimmy stretched up toward him, his body tense with excitement.

  He gave Jimmy his helmet. “Sit in back and grab me as if you’re glued to me.”

  The helmet was too big and was rolling off Jimmy’s head, but the kid was beaming, holding it on. Jake waited for Jimmy to get on the bike. Jimmy grabbed him tightly. “Easy now,” Jake said. He started the bike, moving it so slowly, he might as well have been walking it, but Jimmy didn’t seem to mind. “Vroom!” Jimmy shouted. Jake kept it nice and slow, once around the block, past this huge tree that had fallen, past two of the neighborhood women standing on the sidewalk, deep in conversation. He pulled back around to the house and helped Jimmy off. The kid’s face was shining with glee. Jake stuck out his hand like he would to another man, to an equal, and Jimmy solemnly shook it. “Thanks,” Jimmy said. “I mean it. Thanks a billion times. That was so, so cool.”

  “We’re friends now, right?” Jake said.

  Jimmy nodded. “I’m going home now,” he said.

  Jake watched him run across the street. He could probably get to like this kid, his spunk. Maybe he would like Lewis, too. He glanced at his watch. Not even four thirty. He’d be back here by seven.

  A few hours later, he had dressed up in a suit, the present he had carefully picked out for Lewis (a magic kit, because she said he liked magic) tucked under his arm. It was a big night, his meeting Lewis, and he wanted everything to go right.

  But when he got to her neighborhood, Ava was distracted because Lewis wasn’t even there, not even after hours had passed. He did his best to support her. “It’s going to be all right,” he told her. He put his arm around her. He wasn’t worried. Not then. He figured those kids were just being kids, that they’d show up sometime, and maybe even this was Lewis’s way of telling Jake to screw off. But Jake could handle that, too. He’d give Lewis the gift, make sure he got whatever flavor ice cream he wanted. He’d show Ava how he had fixed the step, and later, when they were alone, he’d tell her how he had made friends with Jimmy, leaving out the part where he got so angry.

  But then Ava had begun to really worry, especially when that kid Jimmy’s mother called to say Jimmy and his sister were missing, too, and that she had called the cops. Jake stood out on the street with Ava, the neighbors, and then the cops, and then Lewis and Rose had stumbled into view. Jake saw that Jimmy was missing, and that was when he suddenly felt as if he were drowning under water. Get lost, he had told Jimmy. Vamoose. And the kid had and nobody knew where he was now. Everyone was asking questions, like the rat-a-tat of machine guns. He thought of how he had driven around the neighborhood with the kid. He wondered who might have seen him? His neck prickled with sweat.

  It kept getting worse and worse. The police were questioning Ava, and then they called him, pulling him out of a gig, always asking the same things. “A jazz musician, huh,” a cop said, as if that itself was a crime. They kept asking him what had he done that day, where had he gone? “How much time did you say you spent with Jimmy?” the cops asked.

  “None,” Jake lied. “None. I never met the kid.”

  “We’ll talk to the neighbors, see what they say,” the officer said.

  JAKE STARTED TO hate to come to Ava’s neighborhood. The neighbors were outside, and if the kids were outside, they seemed glued to their parents. He was afraid someone would point to him and say, Hey, you were the one with Jimmy on your motorcycle that day. Or what if someone came forward and said, You’re the one who grabbed that kid. Everything felt different. The last time he came over, he had watched Ava talking to a group of neighbors. People kept remembering things they had seen, and even Jake could hear how they changed their stories, how a strange black car on the street was suddenly brown, and then it was speeding, and then it wasn’t. He saw how they turned their backs on Ava,
leaving her standing helplessly in the middle of the street.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he had told her. He had it planned out. There were always people asking about his house. He could sell it in a minute. They could move to California. He could almost imagine it, coming home every day and finding her, getting to know Lewis. But then she started hedging, coming up with excuses about Brian and the investigation, and he felt caught. Why couldn’t she just trust him and come with him? If he stayed, the cops would keep asking him questions. But if he left, he’d be leaving Ava.

  Then he and Ava had that final argument at the club. He kept urging her to come with him and she kept saying no until it turned into something final. Fine, let her break up with him. Let it be on her head, he thought. But then one night, he missed her so much, he got on his bike to go over there and apologize and try to work it out. It was eight at night, and dusky. There were neighbors standing in groups, slowly walking, their ribbons of lights making a path, and he thought of that old Frankenstein movie, with the villagers angrily waving torches on their way to finding the monster. He heard the neighbors’ voices, growing louder. “We’ll get that guy!” someone said, almost making it a chant. It didn’t matter whether you had done something or not. All that mattered was if people thought you had. And from where he stood, he seemed like the perfect target. They didn’t even know who this person was and they wanted to kill him. How long before Ava would turn on him, too? He had made a mistake with Jimmy. He knew it was wrong, but he also knew that in this world, that distinction didn’t matter.

  He turned his motorcycle around and headed back to his house and as soon as he got there, he started making phone calls. He had friends in California who owned a club. He knew people in San Diego where he could crash until he got himself settled. He even had friends in Des Moines. He thought of the beach and the ocean and the weather so warm, he could ditch his leather jacket entirely.