Boyfriend (26 page)

“Nate…” my mother scolded him gently while still stroking my face.

Natalie smiled wider before hopping back to her room.  It was the closest my father had ever come to caring for her. 

“How do you feel, Junior?” Her eyes were still fixed on me. 

“Thirsty.”

She nodded.  “Get him some water,” she said to my father.  He sucked his teeth before walking out.  “Bring the camera too, so I can send a picture of him to my aunt,” she added. 

She turned back to me and stroked my hair more.  I felt like a puppy being petted.   My whole body felt warm, and I didn’t want her to stop. 

              When my father came back in, my mother held the glass of water to my lips as I sipped.  My mouth felt dry in places I didn’t know it could feel dry, and the water felt so good traveling down my throat.  It almost felt like it was leaving a cold stream through my body.   My Aunt Laura used to tell me to drink to get rid of the germs.  I pictured little green germs washing into my belly with the stream. 

              “Take a picture,” my mother said to my father as I took the last sip.  She sat beside me in the bed pulling me into the crook of her arm.  Her arm resting against mine and a big smile spreading across her face.  I looked at my father as he raised the camera.  I felt like I was living someone else’s life, even if for that brief moment. 

             
Snap.

              She rose and took the big Polaroid camera from my dad pulling the picture out and placing it face down on the nightstand in my room to dry. 

              “I’ll send that to Aunt Laura later today,” she said more to herself than us.  “Now you get some more rest, Junior.  I will bring you some breakfast in a few.”  She pulled the shades in my room down and walked out, slipping her hand through my father’s who looked at her and smiled.  As they closed the door behind them, I rose and slowly made my way to my nightstand.  I picked up the picture which was still foggy as it developed.  I crawled back into bed placing the picture on my pillow beside me, gazing at it as the image sharpened.  My mother’s smile bright and genuine.  My little body fastened to her side like a baby cub.  A small laugh escaped my lips.  That picture never made it to Aunt Laura.

***

The night before Phil’s wedding, I decided I wanted the picture.  I was thinking of Allison and our daughter.  I wondered if she would look like my mother.  Although it had been less than two years since my mother died, it was becoming difficult for me to remember her face. 

I buried the photo between my mattress cushion and the box spring when I was about nine.  Natalie had found it in my previous hiding place and had drawn whiskers on my face in black marker.  Seething angry, I pushed her to the ground and hid it where I knew she would never look.  I was pretty sure it was still there.  I hadn’t thought about it in years.

              I used my key to get into my parents’ apartment. The lights were out so I assumed my father was gone.  I hadn’t seen him since a week after we lowered my mother into the ground and that was just to give him her belongings that they were holding at the hospital.  I placed them at his feet as he sat on a folding chair in the kitchen staring at her gold wedding band in between his fingertips.

“She should be wearing this,” he had mumbled.  He didn’t even notice when we left. 

When I walked inside my parent’s apartment to get the photo, I headed straight into my old bedroom and reached under the mattress, feeling around frantically for the picture. 

“You looking for that picture of you and your mother?”

I looked over at my father, who stood in the doorway, leaning on his cane.  He looked haggard.  His yellowing eyes looked fatigued, and his skin looked rough and dry.

“Yea,” I replied lifting the mattress and looking around.

“It’s in your mother’s jewelry box.”

I followed him as he limped to their bedroom and stood in the doorway as he entered.  My mother’s side of the bed remained neatly made, his side looked recently slept in.  Her slippers were placed in the corner, and her robe hung over the closet door.  If I hadn’t known she was gone, I would have thought she was just in the shower. 

I watched as my father reached into a small wooden box on the dresser and pulled out the Polaroid picture.  He handed it to me.  The edges were tattered, and the images were slightly faded.  I gazed at it.  My mother’s smiling face, my wide eyes.  I hadn’t realized how much Natalie looked like my mother.  How much Cole looked like me. 

“Thank you,” I said looking at my father.  He cleared his throat and coughed.

“She loved that picture.  She found it cleaning a few years ago and gazed at it for what felt like hours.”  He stared off as if lost in his own thoughts.  I felt uncomfortable and now that I had the picture, I wanted to leave.

“I was married when I met your mother,” he said sitting on the bed.  I looked at him confused.  “I was married to Aileen Cunningham.”

              Stunned, I was silent.

              “Christine and I worked at the same department store called TSS down off Jamaica Avenue.  I worked there part-time as a custodian and took night classes at Queensborough Community College.  I wanted to start my own auto shop.  Detailing Mustangs,” he unloaded.  He coughed again.  “Your mother was a cashier.  Her mother had died, and she was on her own.  She was renting the basement of an older couple’s house not too far from here.  The husband kept hitting on her when his wife wasn’t around.  Showing up to fix things that weren’t broken.  Staring at her legs when she sat.  We were friends.  She asked me to pretend to be her boyfriend, so he would leave her alone.”  He laughed but his laughter turned into another cough.

              “You aiight?”  A part of me wondered if I shouldn’t have interrupted him and asked.  I had never heard any of this. I had no idea how they met.  I had no idea he was married before my mother.  I had no idea he had gone to college. 

              He nodded, determined to continue.  “I’d walk her home.   She talked a lot.  She used to dance.” He smiled.  “She used to dance,” he said again as if remembering.  “She went to auditions in the city when she had time.  You could see her leotards under her TSS uniform.  Aileen was pretty.  Long hair.  Light brown skin.  But your mother…” he looked over at her side of the bed as if remembering.  “I don’t know what it was about your mother.”

              I pictured my mother.  I pictured her long legs dancing and stretching, her toes pointing high into the air.  It seemed impossible that the women I knew could have ever been that person.

              “I’m not proud of what I did to Aileen,” he said, his tone growing harsh and defensive.  “But Christine got pregnant with you and back then, there was no getting rid of it.  What was I supposed to do?  I dropped out of school and married her.”

              I shook my head in disbelief.  It explained so much about him… so much about her.

              “Aileen moved back to her parent’s house in Syosset.  She married a dentist,” he continued.  “I was so angry.  Angry at your mom.  Angry at myself.  Angry at you… and Natalie.”  He lowered his head in shame.  “I spent so much time fucking angry.”

              I nodded. 

              “Your mother would want you to have that.”  He pointed at the picture in my hand.  I looked back down at it.  Seeing my mother’s youth in a way I hadn’t before.

              “Thanks.”

              “When you see your sister, tell her…” he stopped, unable to find the words.  “I’m sure there are some things here Christine would want her to have too.” 

That was as close to an apology as we were going to get. 

              “Alright, Dad,” I said, staring down at his increasingly feeble frame.  I turned and hurried out of the apartment, knowing exactly where I needed to go.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I managed to make it past the security of Fordham’s law school by blending in with a drove of students exiting the large stone building.  I wandered around for about an hour before my plan to “find” Kerry started to feel stupid.  After hearing my father’s story, I knew I had to find her but my urgency fell short of actually having a plan.  After circling the library twice, I sat on a bench by the elevator and buried my face in my hands. 

“Can I help you?” 

I looked up. A small, older woman stood in front of me. Her hair was pulled back severely from her face and her white skin looked like chalk.  She frowned, the lines of her face multiplying. 

“No.” I wondered if I should take one last trip around the school before I gave up. 

“Do you go here?” she asked. 

Irritated, I leaned back against the wall.  “No.”

“Well, you need to have a law school ID to be here.”  Her eyes were darting around as if searching for back up.

“I don’t go here, but I was looking for someone who does.  I just want to take one more look around…” I rose, attempting to walk around her.  Just one more trip around.  At least I could say I tried.

“I can’t let you do that,” she said, her voice slightly louder. 

“Is everything ok, Marcy?” a pudgy man said, rising from behind a computer desk.

“Everything’s fucking fine,” I said raising my voice.  “I’m just looking for someone.  I’m not even using the fucking books.  I’m just looking for someone,” I repeated.

“Sir,” the pudgy man began, little beads of perspiration already forming on his face.  He put his hands up slowly, palms out like he was being robbed.  “If you would just wait outside, I’m sure your friend will find you.”  His voice was calm.  Too calm.  I looked around and people began to peek up from their books and around their computers.  If I didn’t already feel like a psycho for looking for someone that didn’t want to be found, causing a scene was sealing the deal. 

“She doesn’t know I’m here,” I said, trying to sound as calm as he did.  “If you would just let me take one last look around...”

“Sir, we can’t let you do that,” he said cutting me off.

“I’ll tell you what,” I started, raising my voice again.  “If you want, you and Methuselah here can follow me around while I look for her
that way you know I’m not reading any of your fucking books or doing whatever the fuck it is you think people sneak into libraries to do.”

“Nate?”

I looked over, and Kerry stood beside us, looking both embarrassed and concerned.  “Is everything okay?” 

I stared at her relieved, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face.  She was wearing a purple sweater and jeans.  Her hair was pulled back, and her lips were painted in shiny gloss.  She looked perfect.

“Do you know this man?” the pudgy man asked looking at Kerry.  She nodded.  “All guests need to sign in at security,” he scolded.

“He isn’t staying.”

I looked at her surprised. 

“Come on,” she said taking my arm and pulling me outside. “What’re you doing here?” she asked as soon as we walked out the exit. 

A sudden gust of wind made the cold day feel colder.  She hugged herself tight.

“Do you need a jacket?”

“I’m fine, Nate.  What’re you doing here?” Her tone was harsh and halting.

“I was looking for you.  You haven’t answered my calls or texts.  We were supposed to meet, and you never showed up.”

“But, you can’t just show up at my school, Nate...”

“I know.  I just need to talk to you.”  I took a breath, trying my best to man up and tell her what I came to say.  “On our first date, I took you to that Caribbean restaurant… remember?”

“You showed up here to talk about our first date?”

“No… yes…” I reached for her hand.  She allowed me to hold her fingertips, her eyes darting around to see if anyone was watching.

“Nate, it’s cold…”

“Do you remember?”

She nodded.

“We had our first kiss on that dance floor,” I continued.  Her eyes softened, and her hand rested a little firmer in mine. “I think about that moment every day, Kerry.  The way you felt… how you looked… how
I
felt.  You made me feel like I was better… like I was someone different.” I sighed, pretty sure I was making no sense.  “Shit… I just need you.  I love you.  I can’t say that to anyone else.  I love you, Kerry.  I’ve never stopped.” 

I pulled her to me and wrapped my arms around her.  She shook her head and tried to pull way.  I held her tighter, and she succumbed, allowing her body to press into mine.  The cold around us suddenly dissipating.  I touched her face and she nestled her cheek into my palm.  Her face was cloaked in doubt, but she melted into me like a reflex.  I leaned in and kissed her.  It took her a moment before she kissed back, but when she did, her lips parted and welcomed mine.  We kissed for what felt like minutes before she pulled away.   

“I’m not doing this,” she said taking a step back.  I took another step towards her, and she shook her head, placing her hands on my chest to stop me from getting closer. 

“You know what I remember about our first date, Nate?”

I shook my head.

“I remember asking you not hurt me,” she said, her words firing out of her mouth and slamming into me.  “But you did,” she continued. “You hurt me like no one in my life has ever hurt me, Nate.  You betrayed me like I meant nothing.  Like I was nothing.”  It was my turn to look around as people nearby began to glance our way.