The Distance Between Us (39 page)

Somebody passes by in the hallway behind me, whistling.

I search for words. “That’s a lovely story.” My heart is aching now. “I can’t believe you never told me about this before.”

She shrugs. “I didn’t want to. It was just between Jeremy and me.”

I study her. “So why tell me now?”

“I don’t know,” she says. Her voice has a tremor in it. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

I find myself remembering the phone call I made to her last year,
after Arthur finally told me about Martha, and about his part in Jeremy’s death. I thought, foolishly, that when she heard these things, she might hate me less, but all it did was make her equally furious with Arthur—and me just as furious with her, after she revealed she had been aware of her father’s affair for nearly a decade.

I clear my throat. “Caitlin, I don’t know what to say to you. What can I do to make things better between us?”

The clock above the chalkboard ticks along in the stillness for what seems an eternity before she answers.

She leans on the desk and frowns. “I don’t think I want things to be better between us.”

I stare at her. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Every time I’m around you, Hester, I feel so angry I can barely function. I know I should try to forgive you, but I can’t seem to do that.” Her eyes burn into mine. “When I see you, all I think about is Jeremy, and about how and why he died. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop seeing that. I wish I could, but I can’t.” She looks away again, swallowing. “I’m sorry, truly.”

I think it’s her apology that breaks me. I wasn’t expecting that. I stare at the floor and feel tears coursing down my face, one after another. I want to say something, but all I can do is cry.

“But it’s not just that, either.” She’s quieter, now, but her bitterness is palpable. “It’s you, Hester. It’s how you are. I used to dream what it would have been like to have had a mother who looked at me the way you looked at Paul and Jeremy. You worshipped them, and you pitied me, and I had to live with that every day of my childhood. Every single day.” Another long silence, followed by an eloquent snort. “In retrospect, perhaps I should be happy about that. The worship thing didn’t work out so well for Paul and Jeremy, did it?”

It takes all my strength just to stay on my feet. I want to flee from her, but all I can do is stand here and feel her words cut into me, one after another.

I have no answer for her. I could argue, and tell her how much I always loved her, but there’s no point. She wouldn’t believe me.

And she shouldn’t.

Because some of what she’s saying is true. I did pity her, of course.
And I treated her differently than her brothers. It was not my intention to do so, but I know I did.

I didn’t love her less, but I behaved as if she
were
less.

Her voice becomes a shade gentler. “But then again, I know I haven’t been the daughter you wanted, either, so I guess we’re even.” She pauses. “Maybe we should just leave it at that, and call it quits, okay?”

I wish there were a way to take back all the years. I wish there were a way to undo all our mistakes, and forget all the ways we’ve harmed each other. I wish I could take her in my arms as she hasn’t allowed me to do since she was a very small child, and that we could start over.

But that’s not going to happen. Not today. And maybe not ever.

She resumes picking up her things and clears her throat. “I really have to go now, Mother.” She waits. “Was there anything else?”

I shake my head. It’s all I can do. She lingers a bit longer, but then says good-bye and heads for the door. As she brushes past me, I finally look up again, just in time to see something that hurts far, far worse than all her words combined.

Her face is as wet as mine.

E
ric’s girlfriend, Sofia, is in his hospital room. She’s sitting on his bed when Alex and I enter, and they’re holding hands and sharing a quiet laugh about something. A pang of jealousy crosses Alex’s face, of course, but I’m afraid he’s going to have to get used to that feeling. If I’m any judge of such things, I don’t believe Sofia is going anywhere soon.

And even if she does, there will always be another girlfriend, eventually.

Eric smiles when he sees us, and gives us a big wave with his free hand.

“Hey, dudes!” He gestures us over to the opposite side of the bed from Sofia. “What’s up? How’s it hanging?”

I regret to say he’s entirely lost his awe of me in the last few days.

I let his crudity slide, though, because he’s truly been wonderful about this entire ordeal. Through no fault of his own, he was assaulted in my home and tossed down a staircase. But in spite of being knocked out of commission for the next several months, he’s never blamed Alex, or me, for the fight with Paul, and he somehow stays in a cheerful mood, day after day.

Alex and I step around the weights and wires that are part of his traction apparatus and come to a halt beside his torso. The boys do their odd touching of fists in greeting, and Alex smiles back at him. “I’m good. I just dropped out of Pritchard.”

Eric’s face falls. “You’re shitting me. You’re quitting school?”

“He’s perfectly serious,” I growl. “Perhaps you can talk some sense into him.”

“Wow,” Sofia murmurs. “Hi, Alex, by the way. Hi, Hester.”

She has gorgeous, long black hair, and intelligent, soft brown eyes, and she also seems to be quite sweet. Alex told me he wishes he could hate her, but he hasn’t been able to make himself do so.

I return her greeting and find a chair in the corner.

“Hi, Sofia,” Alex says, then turns back to Eric. “Yeah. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I’ve decided I don’t want to do any more school for a while.”

Eric frowns. When he’s upset about something, his blue eyes darken like a mood ring. “Just like that? You’re quitting?”

Alex picks at some lint on the sheets. “Yeah. I’m not leaving town, though. I’m just going to get a job someplace and keep on living with Hester.”

“At least until I throw him out on his ear,” I mutter.

I’ve tried to talk him out of this latest plan, but he’s being stubborn. He seems to believe he’s too far behind in his classes this semester, and feels his time will be better spent in writing on his own.

And given the rancor between him and my daughter, I’m forced to concede he may be right.

Eric shakes his head. “Why are you dropping out of college, man? I don’t get it.”

Alex shrugs. “It’s kind of hard to explain. Basically I just want time to put my life back together. A lot of shit went down this last year with my family, not to mention all the stuff here, and I just want some freedom to figure it all out.”

Eric scowls. “And you can do that while you’re working, but not while you’re in school? Good luck.”

Sofia pinches the skin on his arm. “Leave him alone, Eric. It’s his life.”

“Ow! That hurt, dammit,” he says, rubbing his bicep. He leans back against the pillows and studies Alex. His expression becomes gentle, and he sighs. “I’m just pissed because I like having you around.” He forces a smile. “Even if you are a total spaz.”

Alex looks away. “Yeah, I’ll miss you, too. But like I said, I’m not going anywhere. We can still hang out, any time you want.”

Eric’s eyes bore into the side of Alex’s face. “Sit down, dude,” he orders.

Alex obeys in silence, settling in next to the other boy’s cast. The cast covers Eric’s entire left leg, and most of his pelvis, too, circling his waist. About fifteen people have signed the rough white plaster so far. (There’s an appalling new contribution by his knee that says
“How do you whack off when you’re wearing this thing, dude? Love, Abe.”
) I sigh and root through my purse for a mint.

Eric disengages himself from Sofia and leans back in bed with his hands behind his head. “So tell me what’s up, man. Why are you really dropping out of school?” He glances at Sofia and me and hesitates. “It’s not because of problems with anybody specific, is it?”

I can almost see the troubled thoughts churning around in his handsome head. He’s worried Alex may be leaving because of what happened between them, but he can’t ask about it directly with Sofia and me in the room.

Alex blushes a bit. He shakes his head, emphatic. “Not at all. It’s got nothing to do with anybody else.”

I don’t know if he’s telling the truth or not. I suspect he doesn’t either. He’s not over Eric, yet, not by a long shot, and one of his reasons for quitting school may indeed be to avoid too much contact between them. Either way, though, he’s not about to confess this to Eric.

And I don’t blame him. Conversations about unrequited love and balked desire have been scientifically proven to cause hair loss, and many other signs of premature aging.

Eric is skeptical. “Seriously?”

Alex nods. “Yeah. I’m totally cool with everybody at Pritchard.” He drops his eyes. “But thanks for asking.”

Eric picks up Alex’s hand in a curious, tender gesture. His voice is careful as he changes the subject. “So you’re going home to see your family?”

Alex has told him about what happened last Thanksgiving in Iowa, and he knows this is a hard topic. Especially because his relationship with his own parents is quite good; I met Eric’s mother and father yesterday here at the hospital (they live in St. Louis, and drive here daily to see him), and they seem to be charming people.

“Yeah, I guess.” Alex sighs. “Mom called yesterday. I got pissed and hung up on her, but then I started feeling like a complete dick. She was crying and stuff, and I just made fun of her and shit.”

Eric shrugs. “She kinda deserves that, don’t you think?”

Alex winces. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know.” His hand is still holding Eric’s, as if it were something fragile and precious. “But either way, I don’t want to be mad at them forever, and I’d like to make things better. If I get there and they go postal on me again, then at least I can say I tried.”

My eyes drift to Sofia. She’s watching them closely, but her face, oddly enough, doesn’t have any jealousy in it. Rather, she seems moved, as I am, by the open affection between them. These are two very rare young men. I’m not surprised by Alex, so much; I know him, now, and I know what he’s capable of. But Eric is also a treasure.

As a matter of fact, if I were fifty years younger, I’d be pushing Alex and Sofia off the bed to get to him, too.

Eric smiles and finally releases him. “Wow. Listen to you. Mr. All Grown-up.”

Alex snorts. “You might want to wait to call me that until after I get back from Iowa. I may need some diapers and a rattle by then.”

“When are you going to go see them?”

Alex pauses. “I don’t know. Soon. Maybe tonight or tomorrow, even. I don’t want it hanging over my head for too long.” He looks over at me for a moment and grins. “It’s weird. I’ve avoided conflict my whole life, but now I don’t much care if my folks and I have a knockdown-dragout or not. I guess living with Hester has really taught me how to appreciate a good fight.”

I make a face. “Wonderful. I’ve created a monster. But before you make any rash decisions, you might want to remember how well my strategy of engagement has worked for me.”

His grin widens. “You’ve done all right.”

The four of us chat for a while longer, but Eric is yawning a great deal. He likely wants to be alone with Sofia again before he has a nap, so after another few minutes I make noises about needing to go home, and Alex takes the hint and rises from the bed when I stand up.

“I guess we better take off,” he says.

Eric nods. “Okay.” He scratches at the edge of his cast. “But let me know when you get to your folks', dude, and tell me how it’s going.” He yawns again. “And borrow one of Hester’s kitchen knives, just in case things get out of hand.” He chortles. “Or better yet, take the phone in the attic. That thing rocks for self-defense.”

Sofia pinches him again, and Alex laughs hard.

I sniff. “Another remark like that from you, child, and you’ll be in dire need of another cast.” I move over to his bed and bend down to kiss his cheek. “Get well soon, dear.”

Alex tells him he’ll call when he arrives in Morelle. Eric opens his arms, indicating he wants a hug, and when Alex leans in to comply, Eric gives him a quick peck on the cheek as well, and tells him to be careful. Alex pulls back, flustered, and Eric smiles up at him. Sofia giggles at Alex when he just stands there, beaming from ear to ear, unable to think of anything else to say.

We take our leave, and when we’re in the hallway, it’s all he can do to refrain from jumping around with joy. I nearly tell him not to read too much into Eric’s farewell, but then I realize he doesn’t need to hear this. I believe he already knows; it’s likely he’s just happy to find he’s loved. It’s not the kind of love he wants, of course, but maybe he’s wise enough to know that love of any stripe is better than none at all.

And wise or not, as long as he lives, he’ll never forget that kiss.

I
’ve decided to loan Alex my car so he can visit his parents and try to patch things up with them. When we arrived home from visiting Eric at the hospital yesterday and he told me of his plan to “hop a bus” as soon as one was available, I insisted he take my car instead, but only after getting a good night’s sleep and eating a decent breakfast. He argued about leaving me without a car for a day or two, but I won, of course, telling him I had a pantry full of food, and no reason to venture out until early next week, when I have a meeting with the dean.

It’s a bright, cold morning. We finished eating a few minutes ago, and he just backed the car out of the carriage house and tossed his suitcase in the trunk. St. Booger is glaring down at him as he stands there in the driveway, and I’m on the porch, in my robe and slippers, waiting for him to leave.

“Go inside, Hester,” he calls out. “It’s too cold out here for you to be dressed like that.” He walks slowly toward me, kicking at some ice with his sneakers.

“I’m fine,” I answer. “What’s taking you so long?”