Eleanor & Park (30 page)

prettiest woman he’d ever seen.

When Eleanor first heard

about Richie, she was leaning

against their old couch, reading a

Life
magazine, and drinking a

virgin banana daiquiri. She wasn’t

exactly eavesdropping – all her

mom’s

friends

liked

having

Eleanor around. They liked that

she watched their kids without

complaining, they said she was

wise beyond her years. If Eleanor

was quiet, they sort of forgot she

was in the room. And if they

drank too much, they didn’t care.

‘Never trust a man, Eleanor!’

they’d all shouted at her, at one

point or another.

‘Especially if he hates to

dance!’

But when her mom told them

that Richie said she was as pretty

as a spring day, they’d all sighed

and asked her to tell them more.

Of course
he said she’s the

prettiest woman he’s ever seen,

Eleanor thought. She undoubtedly

is.

Eleanor was twelve, and she

couldn’t imagine a guy fucking

her mom over worse than her dad

had.

She didn’t know there were

things worse than selfish.

Anyway. She always tried to leave

Park’s house before dinner – just

in case her mom was right about

wearing out her welcome – and

because, if Eleanor left early, there

was a better chance that she’d beat

Richie home.

Hanging out with Park every

day had really messed up her

bath-taking routine. (A fact she

was never ever going to tell him,

no matter how sharey-carey they

got.)

The only safe time to take a

bath in her house was right after

school. If Eleanor went over to

Park’s house right after school,

she had to hope that Richie would

still be at the Broken Rail when

she got home that night. And then

she had to take a really fast bath

because the back door was right

across from the bathroom, and it

could open at any time.

She could tell that all this

sneaky bath-taking was making

her mom nervous, but it wasn’t

exactly Eleanor’s fault. She’d

considered taking a shower in the

locker room at school, but that

might even be more dangerous:

Tina
et al.

The other day at lunch, Tina

had a made big point of walking

by Eleanor’s table and mouthing

the C-word. The c-u-n-t word.

(Richie didn’t even use that word,

which implied an unimaginable

degree of filth.)

‘What is her problem?’ DeNice

asked. Rhetorically.

‘She thinks she’s all that,’

Beebi said.

‘She ain’t all that,’ DeNice

said.

‘Walking

around

here

looking like a little boy in a

miniskirt.’

Beebi giggled.

‘That hair is just wrong,’

DeNice said, still looking at Tina.

‘She needs to wake up a little

earlier and try to decide whether

she wants to look like Farrah

Fawcett or Rick James.’

Beebi

and

Eleanor

both

cracked up.

‘I mean, pick one, girl,’

DeNice said, milking it. ‘Pick.

One.’

‘Oh, girl!’ Beebi said, slapping

Eleanor’s leg. ‘There’s your man.’

They all looked out the cafeteria’s

glass wall. Park was walking by

with a few other guys. He was

wearing jeans and a T-shirt that

said ‘Minor Threat.’ He looked

into the cafeteria and smiled when

he saw Eleanor. Beebi giggled.

‘He is
cute
,’ DeNice said. Like

it was something certifiable.

‘I know,’ Eleanor said. ‘I want

to eat his face.’

They all three giggled until

DeNice called them back to order.

Park

‘So,’ Cal said.

Park was still smiling. Even

though they were long past the

cafeteria.

‘You and Eleanor, huh?’

‘Uh … yeah,’ Park said.

‘Yeah,’ Cal said, nodding.

‘Everybody knows. I mean, I’ve

known forever. I could tell by the

way you stare at her in English …

I was just waiting for
you
to tell

me.’

‘Oh,’ Park said, looking up at

Cal. ‘Sorry. I’m going out with

Eleanor.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I figured you knew.’

‘I did know,’ Cal said. ‘But,

you know, we’re friends. We’re

supposed to talk about these

things.’

‘I didn’t think you’d get it …’

‘I don’t get it. No offense.

Eleanor still scares the crap out of

me. But if
you
’re getting it – you

know,
getting
it – I want to know

about it. I want the whole freaking

report.’

‘This, actually,’ Park said.

‘This is why I didn’t tell you.’

CHAPTER 35

Eleanor

Park’s mom asked him to set the

table. That was Eleanor’s cue to

leave. The sun had almost set. She

rushed down the steps before Park

could stop her … and almost ran

into his dad standing in the

driveway.

‘Hey,

Eleanor,’

he

said,

startling her. He was messing

around with something in the back

of his truck.

‘Hey,’ she said, rushing past

him. He really did look an awful

lot like Magnum P.I. It wasn’t

something you got used to.

‘Hey, wait, come here,’ he

said.

She felt something go slightly

wrong in her stomach. She

stopped and stepped toward him,

but only a little.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’m getting

tired of asking you to stay for

dinner.’

‘Okay …’ she said.

‘What I mean is, I want you to

feel like you have a standing

invitation.

You’re

just

…

welcome, okay?’ He seemed

uncomfortable, and it was making

her uncomfortable. Way more

uncomfortable than she usually

felt around him.

‘Okay …’ she said.

‘Look, Eleanor … I know

your stepdad.’

This could go a million

different ways, she thought. All of

them awful.

Park’s dad kept talking, one

hand on his truck, the other on the

back of his neck, like he was in

pain. ‘We grew up together. I’m

older than Richie, but this is a

small neighborhood, and I’ve put

in my time at the Rail …’

The sun was too far gone to

see his face. Eleanor still wasn’t

sure what he was getting at.

‘I know that your stepdad isn’t

an easy man to be around,’ Park’s

dad said finally, stepping toward

her. ‘And I’m just saying, you

know, that if it’s easier to be over

here, then you should just be here.

That would make Mindy and I feel

a lot better, okay?’

‘Okay,’ she said.

‘So this is the last time I’m

going to ask you to stay for

dinner.’

Eleanor smiled, and he smiled

back, and for a second he looked

a lot more like Park than Tom

Selleck.

Park

Eleanor on the couch, holding his

hand. Across from him at the

kitchen table with her homework

…

Helping him carry in groceries

for his grandmother. Politely

eating everything his mom made

for dinner, even if it was

something completely disgusting

like liver and onions …

They were always together,

and it still wasn’t enough.

He still hadn’t found a way to

put his arms all the way around

her. And he still didn’t have

enough opportunities to kiss her.

She wouldn’t go to his room with

him …

‘We can listen to music,’ he’d

say.

‘Your mom …’

‘Doesn’t care. We’ll leave the

door open.’

‘Where will we sit?’

‘On my bed.’

‘God. No.’

‘On the floor.’

‘I don’t want her to think I’m

slutty.’

He wasn’t sure his mother

even thought of Eleanor as a girl.

She liked Eleanor though.

More than she used to. Just the

other day, his mom had said that

Eleanor had excellent manners.

‘She’s very quiet,’ his mom

said, like that was a good thing.

‘She’s just nervous,’ Park said.

‘Why nervous?’

‘I don’t know,’ Park said. ‘She

just is.’

He could tell that his mom still

hated Eleanor’s clothes. She was

always looking her up and down

and shaking her head when she

thought Eleanor wasn’t looking.

Eleanor was unfailingly polite

with his mom. She even tried to

make small talk. One Saturday

night after dinner, Park’s mom

was sorting her Avon shipment on

the dining room table while Park

and Eleanor played cards. ‘How

long have you been a beautician?’

Eleanor asked, looking over at all

the bottles.

His mom loved that word.

‘Since Josh start school. I get

my GED, I go to beauty school,

get license, get permit …’

‘Wow,’ Eleanor said.

‘I always do hair,’ his mom

said, ‘even before.’ She opened a

pink bottle of lotion and smelled

it. ‘Little girl … cut doll’s hair,

paint on makeup.’

‘That sounds like my sister,’

Eleanor said. ‘I could never do

any of that.’

‘Not so hard …’ his mom said,

looking up at her. His mom’s eyes

lit up. ‘Hey, I have good idea,’ she

said. ‘I do your hair. We have

makeover night.’

Eleanor’s

mouth

dropped

open. She was probably picturing

herself with feathered hair and

fake eyelashes.

‘Oh, no …’ she said. ‘I

couldn’t …’

‘Yes,’ his mom said, ‘so much

fun!’

‘Mom, no,’ Park said, ‘Eleanor

doesn’t want a makeover … She

doesn’t need a makeover,’ he

added, as soon as he thought of it.

‘Not big makeover,’ his mom

said. She was already reaching for

Eleanor’s

hair.

‘No

cutting.

Nothing we can’t wash off.’

Park

looked

at

Eleanor,

pleading. Hopefully, she’d know

that he was pleading because it

would make his mom happy, not

because he thought there was

anything wrong with her.

‘No cutting?’ Eleanor said.

His mom was fingering a curl.

‘Better light in the garage,’ she

said, ‘come on.’

Eleanor

Park’s mom put Eleanor in the

shampoo chair and snapped her

fingers at Park. To Eleanor’s

horror – to her ongoing horror –

Park came over and started filling

the sink with water. He took a

pink towel down from a big stack,

and expertly Velcroed it around

Eleanor’s neck, carefully lifting

out her hair.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Do

you want me to leave?’

‘No,’ she mouthed, grabbing

his shirt.
Yes
, she thought. She

was already starting to dissolve

with embarrassment. She couldn’t

feel the tips of her fingers.

But if Park left, there’d be no

one to stop his mom if she

decided to give Eleanor giant,

claw-shaped bangs or a spiral

perm. Or both.

Eleanor wouldn’t try to stop

her, no matter what; she was a

guest in this garage. She’d eaten

this

woman’s

food

and

manhandled her son – she was in

no position to argue.

Park’s mom pushed him aside

and laid Eleanor’s head firmly

back into the sink. ‘What kind of

shampoo you use?’

‘I don’t know,’ Eleanor said.

‘How you not know?’ his

mom asked, feeling her hair.

‘Feels too dry. Curly hair is dry,

you know?’

Eleanor shook her head.

‘Hmmm …’ Park’s mom said.

She tipped Eleanor’s head back

into the water and told Park to go

stick a hot-oil pack in the

microwave.

It was really, really strange

having Park’s mom wash her hair.

She was practically standing in

Eleanor’s lap; her angel necklace

hung right over Eleanor’s mouth.