Dry as Rain (25 page)

“They fired him, and don't tell me where I want to work.”

“I just think you could do better.”

She headed for the bedroom door. “My mother thought that too.” She turned and gave me a slow once-over. “So did my friends. Maybe I should have listened.”

The jab was meant to hurt, but knowing her state of mind shielded me from the full impact. I'd need tough skin in the days to come. As soon as I came clean with her, she'd be shooting darts at me left and right hoping to draw a little blood. If we were going to weather this, I couldn't let her drain me dry or else I'd be the one wanting to walk. If we could get past it, we might just cycle back like Alfred said. I desperately wanted to get back to where we were just yesterday when I was still her samurai.

Sitting on the couch, I listened to her car back out of the garage. I hadn't seen Benji all morning, so I decided to make another attempt at father-son bonding. I went upstairs and knocked on his bedroom door. There was no response. “Ben,” I called. “Benji, you in there?” I tried the knob, but it was locked. I shouldn't have been worried—Benjamin was a solid kid—but still with his being booted from the Navy and then our fight yesterday, I was more than a little concerned. I banged harder, and then frantically. “Benji, open up!”

The doorknob turned and he poked his head out. He still wore the same clothes he had on the day before along with a five o'clock shadow. He looked confused as he pulled the earbuds out and let them dangle from his hands. “What's up?”

“Did you hear me? I was screaming.”

He held up his iPod. “Sorry. Music.”

We just stood there looking at each other. Finally I said, “I'm going to go see if I can buy Larry lunch. Why don't you come with me?”

“Where's Mom?”

“On a job interview.”

He furrowed his brow. “Job interview?”

“She wants to play the piano at Tambourine's.”

“Hey, that's what she was doing when you two met.” Kyra had told him the story a hundred times. Probably ninety-nine more than he had wanted to hear it.

“That's right.”

“Makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“When stuff starts falling apart, people want to go back to safety. Kind of like me with Braddy's Wharf.”

It did make sense. My mind was on Benji more than Kyra, though. No wonder he wanted to be a fisherman. “I'm sorry I put your dream down.”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “Don't be. You were right. It's impractical. I mean, I'm a man now; it's time to put away childish dreams and face reality.”

I should have been pleased with his response, but the flat way he said it and the dull look in his eyes made me uncomfortable. “Ben, you okay?”

“Better than okay.”

“Yeah?” I asked, unsure.

“I think I'm going to apply for college.”

My smile threatened to split my face. “Virginia Tech is a great school—Hokies, baby. Of course I wouldn't be unhappy with Chapel Hill. Go Heels!”

He sniffed and looked back into his room as if he had something pressing to get back to. “I'll apply to both.”

“Are you leaning toward a BA? You know I'd continue straight on for your MBA. We'll try for scholarships of course, but don't worry, we'll get a loan, whatever we have to do.”

“Yeah, Dad, sounds great.” He started to close the door.

For someone who'd just made a decision to change his life for the better, he sure didn't look happy. I put my foot in the door to keep him from closing it. “You okay, Benji?”

“I just need time to let old dreams die, you know?”

I laid my hand on his rough cheek. “Yeah, I do, Son. Every man does.”

He scratched his neck. “Growing up is the pits.”

“Not all the time,” I said. “Just most of it.”

He gave me a half smile.

“So, what about you and me taking Larry to lunch?”

He cleared his throat. “I really don't feel like it.”

“It'll be good for you,” I said.

He hung his head. “Sure, Dad, whatever you think.”

He opened the door, and I saw his room was in even rougher shape than he was with plates and glasses scattered about the floor, his bed unmade, and the clothes he brought home still hanging half in, half out his seabag.

“You might want to take a shower,” I said. “And shave. We have time.”

“Aye-aye,” he said with a two-finger salute, and closed the door.

Thirty-One

A long time ago, when I was feeling guilty about leaving my first job for greener pastures, Alfred took me aside for a man-to-man talk. He set a pot of water in front of me and told me to make a fist and immerse it. Feeling foolish, I reluctantly obeyed.

“The hole you'll leave when you take your hand out is the hole you'll leave at that job of yours when you go,” he'd said.

I hated to admit it, but it was as true today as it was back then. Thompson's was running just fine without me.

Benji panned the showroom. “Wow, this place looks different than the last time I was here.”

I glanced around to see if I could spot Larry. “You were a lot shorter then.”

It was noisier than usual. Car horns were being tested out on opposite ends of the lot outside, while in here it was hard to hear over all the talking, overhead announcements, and car doors slamming. It was busier than it had been in a long time because of a two-day sale I'd forgotten all about. There would be some major money made today. I couldn't help but feel jealous that I wouldn't be in on any of the commissions.

Thompson, who had been talking to the receptionist, turned and waved at us.

Benji slipped up his hand in response. “Who's that?”

“My boss.”

He studied him. “Oh yeah. He's gotten old.”

“Happens to the best of us,” I said.

As Thompson approached, he reeked of the cologne he used to attempt to hide the cigarette stench. It only made him smell, of course, like cologne
and
cigarette smoke. “How's my best employee?” he asked.

“I'm good,” I said. “Just ready to be back.”

“I was talking about this fine young man.” He chuckled and fake-punched Benji's arm.

Benji gave me a weary side glance.

“So, when you coming to work for me, boy? If you're anything like the workhorse your father is, you'll be running this joint in no time.”

“He'll have to take a rain check on that.” I wrapped an arm around Benji's shoulder. “My son here's going to be heading off to college in the fall.”

Thompson grinned, revealing a piece of what looked like some kind of meat caught between his bottom front teeth. “Is that right? What are you going to study?”

When Benji didn't answer, I said, “He's going for his MBA.” I figured if that wasn't right, he would have corrected me. I was thrilled when he didn't.

“A go-getter, I like that.” Thompson turned to me and patted my shoulder. “You enjoy the rest of your R & R, Yoshida, and get back here quick as you can. We're a mess without you.”

I looked around the showroom floor with customers running their fingers down polished paint, salesmen standing by to close the deal, and the finance department running numbers. Even though it was an obvious lie, I thanked him just the same.

Jacobson walked by. “Hey, man, can't stay away?” He carried a cup of coffee that was most likely meant for the tall Barbie type eyeing one of our most expensive models.

“You seen Larry?” I asked him.

He pointed to Thompson's office.

Jealousy nipped at me, but I forced it away. Just because Larry was hanging out there didn't necessarily mean anything, and I was here to make peace regardless. I stuck my head in Ruby's door. She turned her nose up at me as usual.

“Hey, Ruby. Is Larry Wallace in there?”

She folded her hands and set them on whatever form she'd been reading. Glancing over her shoulder at Thompson's closed door, she said coolly, “He is.”

“Can you tell him I'm here to see him?”

Larry must have heard me because the door swung open. On his chin, smooth skin replaced the goatee he'd worn as long as I knew him, and he had donned a three-piece suit that actually fit him. He looked sharp for a change, though I couldn't say so without risking him calling me gay.

“Hey, bro, I thought you were still on vacation,” he said, looking like nothing had ever happened between us.

I hadn't realized how tense my muscles had been until they relaxed. “I thought if we were cool, we'd buy you lunch.”

“We're always cool.” He looked over my shoulder. “Who's we?”

I smiled. “My son and I.”

His face lit up. “Benji? Where?”

I pointed toward the showroom.

“Sweet, I'm starving. Let me just run it by Thompson.”

Ruby, who was now tapping away on her computer, looked up. “I'll tell him you've gone. He couldn't care less when you take your lunch. Believe me, he'll be happy for the break.”

When Larry frowned at her, she added, “Nothing personal.”

“You know,” I said, “one of us is going to be your boss pretty soon. I'd think it would behoove you to at least try to pretend you can stand us.”

She smiled smugly. “I'm retiring the day he does.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said. “Nothing personal.”

Her cheeks mottled as her nose rose higher in the air. She typed twice as fast.

Larry turned to me. “So, where we going?”

“Let's leave it up to my eating-machine of a son.”

When we returned to Benji, I found him talking to Danielle. My blood turned to ice.

Danielle's eyes glinted with humor as she looked at me. “Wow, Eric, you didn't tell me your son was such a fox.”

My skin crawled as her hand touched down on his arm. As usual, she was dressed to draw attention to her body in a thigh-length skirt and plunging neckline. When her attention was fixed on me, I couldn't help but notice my son checking out her legs. She turned in time to notice it too. A knowing smile slithered across her lips.

She fingered her low-lying necklace, successfully drawing Benji's eyes upward. “Well, Benjamin, it's so nice to finally meet you after hearing so many wonderful things. Your father really needs to update the picture of you he has on his desk, though. You're definitely not that little boy anymore. What are you, twenty now?”

His eyes were fixed on her fingers still toying with her necklace. “I'm nineteen, and you can call me Benji.”

It occurred to me then that she was much closer in age to my son than to me. I wondered if they would have hit it off if she had met him before she and I hooked up. It weirded me out to think she might have been my daughter-in-law if things had gone a different way.

“Benji,” she repeated softly, her gaze still glued to him.

I decided it was time to end this little party. “Yeah, well, we need to get going. Catch you later, Dani.”

I put a hand on Benji's back and ushered him forward. Larry followed us. When we stepped out of the dealership, sunlight left me blind for a second as my eyes adjusted. Shielding them, I pointed to the general area where I'd parked. “We're over there.”

“How about if I drive?” Larry said.

I was about to argue that my SUV was closer but stopped myself. “That'd be great. Thanks.”

He gave me a double take.

“Hey, I can change,” I said.

As we drove along the main strip, he looked at Benji in the rearview mirror. “Where we headed to, sailor?”

I thought Benji would jump on him like he had me when I referred to him as a squid, but he just said, “General Tso's chicken would be good.”

Larry did his famous man-grunt. “A fine military choice. Great Wall Buffet it is!”

Once checked into the restaurant, the three of us stood side by side in front of the Plexiglas-protected buffet. The air smelled of sesame oil, ginger, and soy sauce. Larry piled his plate high with just about everything they had to offer, with the exception of anything resembling a vegetable. I mostly stuck to my old standbys—beef with broccoli and lo mein. Benji's plate remained empty except for two lonely nuggets of General Tso's. When he saw me looking disapprovingly at his plate, he plopped a heap of chow mein onto it. Unless something had changed in the Navy, Benji hated chow mein.

We sat in a booth, Benji and I on one side, Larry on the other. I was pleased when Benji offered to say grace.

Larry wasted no time shoveling food into his mouth. We all ate silently for a few minutes, except for Benji, who just pushed noodles around with the cheap, throwaway chopsticks that he hadn't even bothered to split apart.

Larry took a drink of his Coke. “Hey, Ben, you not liking my restaurant choice?”

He shook his head. “I've just got a lot on my mind.”

“Your dad told me.” Larry speared two shrimp with his fork. “So what's the next step?”