“I like to wear nice things.” Eddie closed his office door between them with a decisive snap that didn’t block out the sound of Gabe’s laughter.
Eddie sat down at his desk and got out his headphones to “read” his e-mails.
Mrs. Henderson could not have imagined the computer he used. She couldn’t have foreseen the invention of the reading pens that used OCR technology to help severely challenged dyslexics like him, but she’d believed things would get better with time, and somehow, she’d made Eddie a believer as well.
She’d been so, so right. Her faith in him had cracked a hole in the low ceiling of unmet expectations that held him down. She’d let him see the wide blue sky of hope for the first time, and he’d loved her for it.
Seeing her as confused as she’d been that day was particularly poignant because she’d recognized him.
She’d remembered him even after all these years.
After a moment’s real sadness, Eddie started work. He normally began each day with coffee and a new word. His quick perusal of the dictionary site revealed the word of the day to be caterwaul. Eddie thought he knew what the word meant, but just to be sure, he listened to the definition. Caterwaul should be easy. That was the exact word for how Skippy and Kim usually bitched each other out at the end of a workday.
“Stop your caterwauling,” he practiced. “I can’t hear over your caterwauling.”
His phone rang, and he glanced at it. Unfamiliar local number.
“Eddie Vasquez.”
“This is Mr. Daley, Lucy’s teacher. I got your number from the office.”
Again, Eddie’s immediate reaction was concern for his niece. “Is Lucy—”
“She’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
Eddie relaxed a little. “What can I do for you, Mr. Daley?”
“Call me Andrew, please. How’s Mrs. Henderson doing? That was amazing how you talked her into going with you.”
Eddie hadn’t liked lying to her. “I felt like an awful fraud at the time.”
“You did the right thing. The whole morning could have been one big scene, and instead… You were awesome.”
“Thank you.”
“Is she going to be all right?” Daley asked.
“She had a seizure while we were waiting in the ER, and they admitted her. I don’t know anything more yet.”
“A seizure? That’s not good, is it?”
“I don’t really know.” Eddie shifted papers on his desk, straining for something useful to say. “It’s not, probably.”
A pause. Then, “Were you really in her class all those years ago?”
“Yes.” Eddie leaned back in his chair. “She was my third-grade teacher when I went to Taft.”
“That’s wild. My little ducklings probably forget me two minutes after school lets out for summer.”
“I’m sure they don’t.” I never stop thinking about you anyway. “I was surprised Mrs. Henderson remembered me.”
“You must have stood out somehow?” It sounded like Andrew was smiling. “Were you a bit of a troublemaker?”
“Maybe.” Eddie thought back to those confusing early years of elementary school. How angry he’d been that he never got things right. How hard every single lesson seemed once he got it home and had to do it by himself. “She had a real nice touch. I was crazy about her.”
“That’s nice.” More silence. “I’m going to have to go in a minute because recess is nearly over.”
Eddie’s heart screamed at him, Say something. Say something, or you’re going to miss your chance! “Okay.” Estupido!
“Hey. I was thinking…my book club is reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. Have you read it?”
“No.” Dead silence. Not again. “But wait, that was a movie, wasn’t it?”
“You haven’t read it then? I thought maybe—”
“I saw the old black-and-white film—the one with Angela Lansbury.”
A brief pause. “It’s not the same as the book.”
“I don’t suppose it is.” Eddie cursed his inability to say with any certainty. “I saw the film when I was a kid. There was a part that was really scary.”
“Do you like old movies? Did you know they have a classic film series at the theater complex on La Palma?”
“Do they?” Eddie’s heart did a little skip.
“They show movie classics on Thursday nights. Would you be interested in going with me?”
“Really?” Eddie’s heart leaped. Would I ever!
“Old movies are much more fun with a friend. Want to come with?”
“This Thursday?” Eddie glanced at his calendar.
“Too soon?” Andrew asked. “Yeah, I guess it’s—”
“No, I can do that. What time?”
“The films start at eight o’clock, but—”
“I’ll be finishing up work between six and seven that night. Can I meet you somewhere?”
“How about Stomping Grounds on Chapman by the high school at seven thirty then? Is that good for you?”
“Yeah.” Eddie smiled into the phone. “That’s great. See you then.”
“See you.”
Eddie disconnected the call, wondering what Lucy’s teacher had in mind. God, maybe he was interested. Maybe he was finally making things clear.
Maybe I’m going to get one of those teacher’s pet pencils yet.
Chapter 4
Eddie parked his roadster in front of Stomping Grounds at seven fifteen. He got out and leaned against the door, waiting patiently. Andrew didn’t seem to have arrived yet. That was all right. Eddie was glad for the opportunity to wind down a little before Andrew showed up.
As far as Eddie’s days went, the day he’d had was actually pretty tame. Sometimes people died with no one to miss them or mourn their passing, and they went undiscovered for a while. Those jobs could be nasty but not unbearable. At least they weren’t the result of violence. Violent crimes were harder to decompress from.
Death was a depressing business any way you looked at it. Sometimes whole lives could be boiled down to the contents of a cheaply furnished apartment and a few photographs.
As much as Eddie looked forward to seeing Andrew, he had to snap out of his funk beforehand, or he’d be pretty lousy company. Discreetly, he stretched the tension from his neck muscles. He was just starting to feel human when Andrew rolled up in an unremarkable blue compact sedan. He got out quickly, looking flushed and happy.
“Hey, you.” Andrew stuffed his hands in his back pockets and eyed Eddie’s car. “Do I get to ride in this?”
“Sure.” Eddie hoped he didn’t seem as nervous as he felt. “Hop in.”
Andrew got in and buckled himself into the passenger seat. “Nice. No wonder Lucy likes it when you drop her off.”
“Lucy’s mom calls it my beauty queen car,” Eddie admitted. “Lucy likes it when her hair whips around. If that bothers you, I can put the top up.”
Andrew reached up and raked his hair back. “My hair is always a mess. I doubt a little wind will make it worse.”
Eddie smiled at that. Andrew’s mop of unruly hair was one of the things Eddie liked about him. He backed the roadster out of the space and headed toward the street. “Where to? The theater?”
“Perfect.”
“What’s the film?”
Andrew hesitated. “It’s Bergman tonight.”
“Ah.” Eddie felt slightly sick at the thought. Bergman meant subtitles, didn’t it? “There’s probably something you should know—”
“You might not like the movie. I buy all the series tickets no matter what they’re showing, but—”
“You like classic films that much?”
“I do.”
At last I know something we have in common besides Lucy. “Me too. I grew up watching old movies with my grandmother.”
“Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you this. Tonight is The Virgin Spring. You might want to look that one up on your phone or something to prepare yourself.”
> “How come?” Eddie had to talk over the traffic. That was the one downside to a convertible. An open car made getting-to-know-you conversation difficult.
“It starts with the rape and murder of a young girl and goes downhill from there. Sorry.”
Busman’s holiday then, thought Eddie. Maybe he should just say no? “You already have the tickets?”
“Yes. I ordered them online.”
“It’s all right then. Let’s do it.” Eddie glanced over at Andrew. He looked perfect sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s car. Of course, the film would be unbearable especially if it was in Swedish with subtitles he couldn’t read, but he’d been on worse dates. Probably.
Andrew’s smile made everything okay. “Tell me about Mrs. Henderson.”
Eddie debated how much he ought to say. He had to wait until a motorcycle roared past them anyway. “After I talked to you, I got a call from my friend Dave. The police did a welfare check at her house, and they discovered her husband had passed away.”
“Oh no. How sad. How?”
“I don’t exactly know. The medical examiner will find out. I guess you saw though, Mrs. H. has memory problems. It seems like after he died she lost the plot somehow. Woke up and went to work like usual, except she doesn’t work anymore. She’s very confused.”
“But that smell…” Andrew’s brow knit. “How long ago did her husband die?”
“A while.” Eddie hesitated. “Two weeks or so.”
“God. That’s awful.”
Eddie nodded. “But not unheard of.”
“What will happen to her now?”
“She’s going to need care. It looks like she doesn’t have much family, but there’s a lawyer who is a family friend. I left my number for him, in case I can do anything to help.” Eddie didn’t elaborate. He’d realized a long time ago, talking about his work wasn’t a great first-date icebreaker.
“That’s good anyway. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“I’ll do that.” Time to change the subject. “So…what does Mr. Daley do when he’s not teaching? Books I know. Movies. What else?”
“There’s not much time for anything else.”
“I know what you mean. Some days aren’t as long as they need to be.”
“You’ve never said much about your job.”
“I co-own an industrial cleaning service. Very boring stuff.”
“Is it?” Andrew asked.
“Not really, actually. It’s a lot of things, but boring isn’t one of them.”
“What’s it called?”
Eddie wished he could look over and read Andrew’s face. Some of the guys Eddie had dated thought cleaning was beneath them. “We call ourselves the Brothers Grime. Our slogan is ‘Because life is not a fairy tale.’”
“Oh my God. That’s hilarious. How did you end up doing something like that?”
“My friend Jack worked as a firefighter, but he fell through a roof on the job. Thank God he survived, but he was injured badly. When he realized he’d never go back to doing what he loved best, he started looking into other types of businesses. He tells people he fell into cleaning.”
“He’s your partner?”
“One of them. My other partner is his cousin Gabe. He and Jack and I went to school together. We’ve always been friends. Gabe was working as a salesman for a pharmaceutical company, and I was—” At this, Eddie broke off. Did he really want to share all this?
“You were what?”
“I was a bouncer in a gentleman’s club.”
Andrew snorted. He said, “Shut the fuck up!” in such a loud voice, the driver of the car next to theirs glared at them.
“I was.” Eddie gave the woman an apologetic shrug. He was glad to take off again when the light turned green. “But it broke my mother’s heart because the job was—as she put it—so trashy. I was looking for a change. Gabe wrote up a business plan, and we pooled our money to outfit our first van. We worked out of Jack’s house back then, but the business has grown.”
“Industrial cleaning.”
“Yes.”
“What do you clean?”
“Dirty things,” Eddie joked. “Seriously. It’s not that interesting.”
“And what does Mr. Eddie Vasquez do when he’s not cleaning?”
“Well, as you know, I take Lucy to school sometimes. I’m the official family photographer at every concert and awards ceremony and school carnival.”
“Lucy’s lucky to have such involved relatives.”
“I take family pretty seriously. I come from a big one. How about you? Do you have family around here?”
“It’s just me and my dad.” Andrew turned on the radio and pushed the preset buttons one after another. He got a lot of talk and commercials. “Uh…does this thing play music?”
Eddie was surprised enough by Andrew’s evasion to remark on it. “Sorry if I brought up a touchy subject.”
“It’s not touchy. Not really.” Andrew raked his fingers through his hair—a hopeless task given the wind. “It’s complicated. My dad and I talk regularly on the phone, but we hardly see each other.”
“I’m sorry.” Eddie pulled into the movie theater parking lot and began the hunt for a space.
Andrew shook his head. “It is what it is. My mother died when I was young, and my father didn’t handle things very well. There, on the left, there’s a spot next to the truck.”
“Got it.” Eddie pulled in and turned off the engine. “So…it’s going to be Bergman.”
“Sorry.” Andrew’s gaze met Eddie’s. “There’s still time for you to run for your life.”
“I don’t run.” Eddie got out of the car, and Andrew did the same. “I hide sometimes, but I don’t run.”
“All right then. Bergman it is, but we do it together. On three. One…two…”
Eddie laughed with Andrew until he saw the man’s face fall. “What is it?”
“Oh no.” Andrew was looking at the line next to the box office. “No no no.”
“What?”
“I see some people I know.”
“Is that a problem?” Eddie stiffened.
“Not for me.” Andrew turned to him. “Oh my God, it’s not only Bergman, but you’re about to be subjected to two of my friends. I swear, I didn’t know they’d be here.”
“What’s the problem if they are?” Eddie asked carefully.
“They’re likely to sort of…take over. Grill you if they think we’re dating. Ask questions. Tell embarrassing stories. We can leave right now if you don’t want to end the evening feeling like you’ve been probed by aliens.”
“Are we dating?”
Andrew smiled up at him. “I hope so.”
“So you’re not ashamed of me or anything?”
“Hell no.” Andrew’s stunned expression told the whole story. “I’m ashamed of them. Why on earth would you think I’d be ashamed of you?”
“It’s nothing. Lead on. I’m not afraid of your friends.”
“You say that now,” Andrew said mysteriously as they walked toward the theater.
Eddie got a good look at Andrew’s friends when he and Andrew joined them. Shortly after they’d been introduced, he realized what Andrew meant by the warning.
Andrew air-kissed each of his friends while Eddie looked on, feeling conspicuously overdressed for the occasion. Catch-up time gave Eddie an opportunity to study them. As if they’d called each other beforehand, Graham and Matt and Andrew all wore variations on the theme of tight jeans and tight T-shirts with vests and multiple scarves even though it was plenty warm out.
Andrew, Matt, and Graham talked about Bergman and cinema and the state of the world. Eddie simply hulked there, listening and nodding like a Tony Soprano bobblehead doll. He didn’t know them well enough to jump into their conversation, and besides, the three men seemed to have a sort of coded shorthand when they talked.
They finish each other’s sentences.
Eddie felt like a side dish—a b
ig dollop of mashed potatoes on Andrew’s plate—at least until Andrew’s friends started feeling up his muscles and commenting on how built he was.
Then he felt like a side of beef. A complacent, friendly side of beef, one who could lift Andrew’s entire body weight—it turned out—on his flexed biceps.
“Oh my God, where did you find this lovely man?” Graham gave Andrew a playful shove that nearly knocked him over. Eddie caught Andrew’s shoulder to steady him. At his brief touch, Eddie heard Andrew sigh and smiled.
Eddie deliberately misunderstood their question. “I just took my niece to school one day, and there he was.”
Equipped with all kinds of junk food, Andrew and his friends got seated and talked over each other while they waited for the curtain to rise.
Eddie left them to it. He listened and stored up whatever information he could gather about Andrew. Somehow he and Andrew lost control of the popcorn, and Graham and Matthew ended up holding it between them. Eddie didn’t mind. He and Andrew shared a box of red licorice, and when Andrew used his as a cigar to do a Groucho Marx impression—“‘I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas, I’ll never know’”—Eddie felt himself fall for Andrew all over again.
Eddie thought the movie was awful. The language barrier was a problem for the obvious reasons, and the story upset him for reasons he hadn’t even thought of going in. He spent his days dealing with the aftermath of violent tragedy. He’d have preferred not to spend his night out with it as well. He sat patiently and let his mind wander for lack of anything more productive to do.
Near the end of the movie, Andrew’s phone started to vibrate, and he pulled it from his pocket. He leaned toward Eddie and whispered, “Back in a second, I have to take this.”
Eddie was too busy experiencing Andrew’s very handsome face up close to reply. By the time he got past the urge to kiss Andrew’s frown away, Andrew had slid from their row and was making his way up the side aisle toward the exit.
“DAD?” ANDREW EXITED the theater.
“Boston?”
Andrew ignored his father’s use of his hated first name. He made his way to a quiet area under a security light where a couple of employees were sneaking a smoke. “What’s going on?”
Eddie: Grime Doesn’t Pay: The Brothers Grime, book 2 Page 3
