After I Fall (8 page)

“Mom,” I said quietly, “his parents are gone.”

“Where did they go? We can schedule a night when they get back.”

I shook my head. “No. I mean they’re
gone
. Like Dad.”

Her smile faded into a look of sympathy. “I see.” She paused. “Actually, I don’t understand. You said he just moved here?”

I decided it would be best to get the truth out now. Why hide it?

“He just moved in with a foster family.”

She nodded slowly, as if giving herself ample time to let that little nugget of information sink in.

To my surprise, I realized that we’d actually been having a nice dinner, all things considered. I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to say something that would shatter my opinion of how our evening was going.

I began talking before she had a chance.

“He’s lost both of his parents and I know what that’s like. Eric has no one. At least I have you and the twins.” I said it because it was true but I was also hoping to warm her up a bit.

“Then perhaps we could invite his foster parents to dinner?” she asked with a tight smile.

I wanted to tell her absolutely not. It was too soon. It would be too awkward.

“Maybe. Maybe much, much later.” It was the only concession I was willing to give.

She was willing to take it.

“Sounds lovely,” she said with another smile.

“Thanks for picking me up,” Eric said as he slid into the passenger seat.

He must’ve been watching for me from a window. He’d opened the front door and trotted down the steps before I even had a chance to put my car in park. I realized this was the first time I’d seen him dressed in normal clothes. At the country club he always had to wear a polo with their logo on it. The same could be said for the landscaping company’s tee shirt. Today he was dressed in baseball shorts, and a tee shirt with the logo of what I thought was maybe a baseball team. His hair was hidden under a baseball cap.

“No problem,” I said.

“The Zierdens have said I can take the truck whenever I want to. I just don’t feel real comfortable driving someone else’s vehicle. I mean, I hardly know them. It’s weird.”

“I always feel a little uncomfortable when I’m driving Phillip’s vehicle,” I admitted. “Did you decide what you want to do?”

“Yeah, actually. I’d like to go to Putter’s.” He paused. “Unless that’s a really unappealing idea.”

I laughed. “You want to go to an amusement park?”

He shrugged. “Unless you have something else in mind?”

“Nope, nothing.” It was just a tiny lie. I hadn’t been sure that Eric would come up with anything. As a backup plan I’d thought we could go to my favorite pizza place. After that, to a movie. The city of Roseville had outdoor movies on Friday nights. It was shown on a big screen. You brought your own blanket and snacks.

But I was open to going to an amusement park.

“It’s not a very big park,” I warned. “They don’t have rides or anything. I think they have bumper boats, a water slide, mini-golf, go-karting—”

“Awesome,” he said. “I’ve never been to an amusement park.”

“Do you want to do anything else?” I asked as I pulled out onto the main road. “Do you want me to show you around town?”

“Sure. Lisa and Tim showed me around my first day here. But I’m sure it was a completely different kind of tour. They drove past the high school, the library, the place they had their first date, the church where they got married. They showed me where they both work. You get the idea.” He stopped and chuckled. “And of course, they showed me the country club, since Lisa had already lined up a job for me.”

“Ah,” I said, “I was wondering how you ended up working at the country club.”

“Lisa thought it was important for me to have a job. She said since it’s summer vacation it would be good if I wasn’t sitting around the house all day. I didn’t mind because I probably would’ve tried to get a job anyway. It’s nice to have a paycheck. Anyhow, she knew someone at the country club. She had the job lined up for me before I got here.”

“That was nice of her,” I offered.

He nodded but didn’t expand his thoughts on his foster mother.

The Zierdens only lived on the edge of town so it didn’t take long before we were in city limits.

“There’s not a lot left to see,” I warned. “I can show you the coffee shop everyone goes to. If you’re hungry we can go out for pizza. There are a lot of pizza places in town but my favorite is this small, family owned one.”

“Sounds good. I can always eat pizza,” Eric admitted.

We drove around for maybe half an hour. It didn’t take long. Roseville was a pretty average sized town. It was small enough that you couldn’t really get lost there, but big enough that you could eat out every day for a month and not have to eat at the same place twice.

Mom had suggested I take Eric to the Firelight Grill. Maybe she was hoping I would scare him away with Waldorf salads or the infinitely more questionable
ris de veau
. Definitely not the kind of place Eric looked like he wanted to go. Not in his baseball cap and shorts.

I had settled on Papi’s Pizzeria.

It had the clichéd red and white checkered table cloths, dim lighting, and muted background music. The aroma of baking dough, garlic, and tomato sauces clung to the air. It was busy, as it usually was on a Friday night.

Luck was on our side and we were given a back booth.

The waitress seated us, brought us water, and took our pizza order.

We chatted about inconsequential topics until our pizza arrived. Asking about someone’s past is one thing, but asking about it when you know it might be an emotional landmine is completely another. I mentally tiptoed my way into what I knew would be safe conversational territory.

I told Eric what I knew about the teachers at Roseville High School. Who you wanted to avoid irritating, whose class you never wanted to be late for, who gave the most homework. Our fall schedules weren’t out yet but chances were pretty good that we would end up with at least one of our core classes together.

We stopped talking long enough for the waitress to set our pizza down and ask if we needed anything else.

“So what’s your favorite subject?” I asked.

I watched as he slid a piece of deep dish combination pizza onto my plate.

He raised an eyebrow and laughed at me.

“Do I have to have one?”

“You don’t like school?” I wondered.

He shrugged. “I don’t hate it. But it’s definitely not my favorite place to be. I guess maybe chemistry. I had that last year. I liked doing the labs. How about you?”

“History,” I answered easily. “My dad was a history buff. We used to watch the History Channel for hours on the weekend.” A little pang shot through my heart. We used to watch so much TV because toward the end, he wasn’t able to get around too well.

“Hey,” Eric said, “are you okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Sometimes it still creeps up on me…that he’s gone. You know?”

He fumbled with a napkin and averted his gaze. “Yeah, I don’t like being reminded of the past, either.”

Time to lighten the mood.

“So, an amusement park, huh?”

*   *   *

One thing I learned from Eric was that if you want to see a boy smile, cram him into a tiny little go kart. If you want to hear him laugh, let him win.

Okay. Maybe I didn’t
let
him win. Maybe I just didn’t try quite as hard as I could have. Or maybe he was really good and legitimately kicked my butt, leaving it in the dust.

“What are you going to blame it on this time?” he asked as he ushered me away from the track. “Your go kart was a lemon? A kid got in your way? You didn’t want to make the old lady feel bad by cutting her off?”

“Ha!” I said as I punched him in the arm. “Those were all legitimate reasons!”

“Or you’re just a really pokey, overly cautious driver,” he teased.

Or at least I thought he was teasing.

“Should we get a few more tickets?” I asked. It was dark and the park was lit up with overhead lights. “I should have the chance to redeem myself.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to look at the time. He frowned. “I’d like to but I need to get home.”

He’d already explained that he had a curfew. It was eleven, an hour earlier than my curfew. The Zierdens told him that they’d be willing to switch it to midnight after he proved he was responsible. He hadn’t looked happy about admitting that. He’d told me that prior to that, he’d never had a curfew in his life.

“Okay, yeah, we can go,” I said.

He looked longingly over his shoulder. We’d gone on the bumper boats, I’d beat him at mini-golf (twice!), and we’d gone around the go-kart track nearly half a dozen times. It was an evening well spent.

“Was it everything you thought it would be?” I joked.

“Well, I had fun, if that’s what you’re asking,” he answered.

“Good, me too,” I said.

It was getting late and the park would be closing soon. We followed a group of people out to the parking lot. I hadn’t recognized anyone from school. I realized Jace would never bother spending his time at a place like this. It made Putter’s all that much more appealing.

“That pizza was great,” Eric said when we were back in the car. “I’ll have to mention it to Lisa.”

“I’m sure she’ll know where it is. It’s a pretty popular place in town,” I said.

“She probably does. It’s just that she likes to cook. She makes these big meals every single night.” He laughed. “I shouldn’t complain, and it’s not that I’m complaining really, but I miss eating normal food every now and then.”

“Normal food like cheeseburgers and greasy pizza?” I guessed.

“Exactly,” he agreed.

Background music filled the car but neither Eric nor I said anything for awhile. I had quickly realized that he was kind of quiet. Maybe even shy. He didn’t really initiate conversation but answered a few questions. I’d learned that he’d lived in a small town in the northern part of the state his whole life. He had no siblings. For the past year or so, he’d been living with an uncle. That led me to believe his parents had been gone at least a year. I hadn’t pressed him even though I’d wondered why, after a year, living with his uncle was no longer an option. I didn’t ask, he didn’t elaborate.

He was polite. He opened doors, thanked our waitress and the lady behind the ticket booth at Putter’s. And he let a family with three rambunctious kids cut in front of us in line. Actually, he did
that
for more than a few families.

When we pulled into his driveway, it was eleven minutes before his curfew. The front porch light was on as were a few lights inside. A soft glow was cast across the yard, cutting through the night.

He shook his head. “They’re usually in bed by now,” he said with a frown. “I hope they didn’t wait up for me.”

“Why?” I asked.

“It’s just…strange.”

I parked in front of the house.

He hesitated a moment, one hand on the door handle.

“Thanks for hanging out tonight. I had fun,” he said.

Hanging out
? I thought.

“You probably have a lot of other friends you would’ve rather spent time with tonight, so thanks,” he said. “After my first few days at the country club I didn’t have the best impression of the people in this town. It’s nice to know there are people like you around. Not a lot of people would’ve taken the time to show the new guy around.”

I didn’t say anything, just stared at him for a few seconds.

I was kind of speechless. The longer I was silent, trying to wrap my mind around what he was saying, the more uncomfortable he started to look.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, “I’m just gonna go…”

“Wait!” I said as I grabbed onto his arm.

He stopped before he pushed the door open.

“Eric…” I trailed off, knowing there was no good way to ask what I needed to ask. I decided to just blurt it out. “Did you think tonight was just…hanging out?”

He seemed to need a minute to think over the question. The illumination of the dashboard lights let me see the frown on his face.

Finally he said, “Well, yeah. Why?”

I shook my head and let out a small, embarrassed laugh.

To tell him…or not to tell him. That was the question running through my mind.

“Because I was asking you out. Like on a date?” I reached up and nervously scratched my eyebrow, hoping it would hide the way I was wincing.

“A date?” he echoed.

I felt my cheeks heat up when I heard his note of disbelief.

“Or not,” I muttered.

Definitely…maybe…
not
.

Maybe that would explain why the closest I’d been to him all night were the few times he’d patted me on the back or playfully smacked my shoulder. All bodily contact had been a show of commiseration over my go-karting talent. Or lack of, to be brutally honest.

“Oh.”

That was all he said.

For.

Several.

Long.

Seconds.

A nervous laugh slipped out of my mouth. “I guess I didn’t make that clear in my less than stellar execution of the invitation.”

He smiled, probably remembering my stammering.

“So,” he said, “tonight was supposed to be…a date?”

I put my hands over my face for just a second. “You don’t have to sound so…incredulous.”

“Incredulous?” he laughed at me. “No. I’m not. I’m just surprised. I obviously didn’t realize. I guess I never thought…When I moved to town, I kind of figured I wouldn’t really get to know anyone. I hadn’t really planned on dating anyone. It just never occurred to me that was what you were asking.”

Now he was the one that was rambling.

“Right, okay. I get it. If you don’t want—”

“It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

He shook his head and looked away.

“I see.” My tone was clipped and I instantly regretted it. It was clear to me he was simply not interested. And why should he be? Just because he thought I was okay to hang out with as a friend didn’t mean he was obligated to think anything more of me.

His head whipped back around. “What, no, I don’t think you do see. It’s not like that it’s just—