Here to Stay (3 page)

“W
EREN’T YOU
supposed to get arrested?”

“Don said I
might
.” They sat on rocks at the water’s edge a quarter mile from Jackson’s Dock. The problem with not being arrested was that he’d lost his ride home. Normally he would have hitchhiked, but he was worried about doing so with Satchmo. People in the area would know he’d been at the fight, might turn him in, and he’d rather avoid that. One of his uncle’s friends had driven him and Satchmo to Jackson’s Dock, but Elijah had no idea where the man was now.

“How did you get there?” he asked Sissy.

“Allie Morgan.”

“You told her?” exclaimed Elijah.

“Of course not. I had her drop me at Eldon Ice Cream. I told her I was meeting someone.”

“Did you tell her who?”

“Well, yes.” Even in the dark, he could see her whole face darken, flooding with color. “It’s not like we’re dating, and she knows that.”

Elijah didn’t want to talk about this. Sissy was attractive—well, more than she used to be—but his big problem was that he was supposed to be out feeding dogs, his bike was at his uncle’s house and he and Sissy Atherton were stranded. He’d be lucky if her father didn’t kill him. Who did he know with a car?

Sissy said, “I could call Kennedy.”

Elijah shot a look at her. “Is she around? Wouldn’t she tell your parents?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Don’t you think you’ll be in less trouble if you’re alone? I mean, I’ll wait with you until Kennedy gets here,” he said, knowing this was what he should do. He couldn’t leave her alone. “But won’t it be worse if you’re with me?”

“I don’t care,” Sissy said. “And I’ve caught her sneaking in late. We’ll be even.”

Uneasily Elijah agreed.

“I
CANNOT BELIEVE
you were with Elijah Workman.” Kennedy’s diatribe started the minute she pulled the Thunderbird away from the Workmans’ crowded two-story house, crowded cheek-to-jowl with others just like it, in West Echo Springs. Because Elijah was running late, when they’d reached his uncle’s house and he’d left Satchmo there, Kennedy had agreed to put his bicycle in the trunk and drive him home. He could say a friend had given him a lift.

“There is nothing wrong with Elijah!” Sissy exclaimed. She’d not had to argue this point since that one conversation with her mother weeks before, but she really couldn’t see the big deal. “Dad likes him.”

“Dad likes him as a dog-sitter. Not as a boyfriend for one of his daughters.”

“I wish he was my boyfriend,” Sissy muttered.

Kennedy glanced at her with a look of appraisal and pity. “You wish that
now
, but trust me, the older you get, the more you’ll be grateful your wish never came true.”

Sissy considered that, hoping her sister was right. Yet somehow she doubted she would ever feel that way about Elijah, that she would ever get over him, that she would ever
not
want what she wanted right now.

Echo Springs, Missouri
May 2, 1961

I
T WAS ALMOST
the end of junior year, and Elijah had been drinking beer, which was unusual for him, and Lucia D’Angelo was sitting beside him in her yellow-and-black polka-dot bikini. The party was at Allie Morgan’s family’s lakeside cabin, which was three cabins down from the Athertons’. Two families who could afford to own
two
homes in Echo Springs. The Morgans were out of town, and the Athertons were at their farm, so the party was a secret from the adults.

Elijah watched the fireflies, thinking that he’d like to kiss Lucia, like to put his hand in her bikini top, like to do more than that. His whole life his parents, his aunts and uncles, the priests at church—everyone—had emphasized that sex would happen
after
marriage and that everything leading up to sex would also happen then. Elijah figured a little fooling around wasn’t as sinister as people said. He had kissed other girls, had messed around a bit on double dates when someone had a car
(he never did). He also believed that Lucia had done a lot more than fool around in the back seat of Tom Riordan’s Thunderbird before Tom went off to play football for the University of Iowa. Nonetheless, something held Elijah back from pursuing her, even from kissing her.

He gazed down the Morgans’ dock and watched Sissy Atherton dive gracefully into the lake. Her swimsuit was a one-piece, all white. You could tell her class, that was for sure. More and more, she reminded him of a movie star—Grace Kelly, for instance—not exactly in looks but in style. He knew that when it came to marriage, he wanted someone like Sissy, who dated but whom he was sure remained a virgin, and a virgin with strict limits.

He stood up from the low stone wall where he’d been sitting. “I’m going in the water.”

It was 7:00 p.m. and still light out. Jay Morgan and Evan Chamberlain were down on the dock, talking to Sissy’s friend Anne Beth.

“Me, too,” Lucia said, bouncing to her feet, her ample breasts nearly spilling from her bikini top.

But Elijah realized he wanted to talk to Sissy, with whom he talked little these days. They’d grown apart in the past year. She was spending time with her ballet, he thought, and doing whatever people did at the country club. Someone had said she was going to teach swimming there this summer, not because she had to work, but probably because the country club would only hire someone like her, someone who was one of them.

It seemed a lifetime ago that they used to talk about dogs and that they’d been at Jackson’s Dock together.
That had been Elijah’s last dogfight experience. He’d continued to volunteer for the Humane Society, taking care of dogs at the local shelter. There was nothing to stop him asking Sissy out. Sure, he lived in a less affluent part of town, but he came from a good family. His parents had high expectations for him and his brothers and sisters. They’d all been taught to work hard, in and out of school, and he certainly planned to succeed in life.

In any case, he was a good student and a basketball player, and he’d always been accepted by the other guys in his class.

“You going to the prom?” Lucia asked as they headed down the dock.

Elijah did not look at her. He knew she was hinting that they should go together, but he didn’t plan to ask her in any case.
Except to kiss her and put your hands down her top, Elijah?
The thought was tempting. But then she would be his girlfriend, he supposed, and he didn’t really want her for his girlfriend.

“Not planning on it. I think I’ll be busy.” He was sure he’d be busy because he always was—if not earning money or studying, then playing basketball with his brothers or helping his father.

Lucia understood everything he hadn’t said. With a wave that carefully hid any resentment of his disinterest, she strolled ahead of him to the end of the dock. Anne Beth had joined Sissy in the water, and the two girls were swimming out to the wooden raft moored fifty feet from the end of the dock.

Jay wolf-whistled at Lucia and said, “Decided to share your charms with us, Lucia?” He and Evan had
been mixing martinis earlier, but had now dispensed with cocktail glasses, if not their chosen beverage, in favor of large plastic cups.

Elijah slowed slightly, putting more distance between himself and Lucia D’Angelo.

Lucia said, “What charms you is nothing I intend to share.”

Evan scoffed, exchanging a look with Jay.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“We know you
like
to share,” said Evan.

Elijah reached the end of the dock just behind Lucia, planning to dive in and get away from this conversation. Evan and Jay were drunk, and Evan reeked of gin.

Lucia glared at the other boys. “Whatever you fantasize about has nothing to do with reality.”

“Reality has everything to do with quantity,” said Evan, “and nothing to do with quality.”

Elijah paused at the edge of the dock, uneasy. Evan was a jerk, but he was going pretty far.
Sticks and stones, Elijah. She can take care of herself.

“Quantity,” Jay said, “or money. Money isn’t the same as quality, which some people never seem to get. Anyone can make money.”

For some reason, Elijah wondered if this was directed at him. He and Jay had never had a problem in the past.

“And some people really know how to sell themselves,” Evan answered his friend in a tone which might have been joking, if not for the ugly implication.

Elijah turned around. “Why don’t you cool it, Evan?”

“Oh. You’re taking your turn?” Evan said, truly sounding as though offending Elijah had been the last
thing he’d wanted to do. “Sorry, man. Didn’t realize. Hell, sorry all around.”

Elijah didn’t like the implication that he was “taking his turn” with Lucia, and didn’t want to leave things that way. “Doesn’t have anything to do with me,” he said. “But you owe Lucia an apology.”

Jay stood up slowly and leaned against one of the pilings near the Morgans’ berthed speedboat. He muttered, “Not worth your trouble, Elijah.”

This seemed both a warning and a mollifying suggestion.

Evan shrugged. “It’s not like I said anything that’s news.”

Elijah felt Lucia edging back from the boys, putting him between her and them. “Let it go, Elijah. They’re not worth it.”

“Because we won’t give you your price?” Evan said.

This wasn’t his fight. It was Tom Riordan’s fault, for behaving in a way that could get Lucia talked about.

But Lucia lived one block from Elijah. He’d known her since she was five years old, and she went to his church. They’d been through First Communion and confirmation together. Suddenly it felt as though Evan were treating one of Elijah’s own sisters this way.

He took a step toward Evan. “Apologize to Lucia,
now.”

“Let it go, Elijah,” Lucia whispered urgently, not like a girl who enjoyed boys fighting over her.

Evan stood up, swaying slightly. “I don’t think I will, Workman. She can leave if she feels out of her depth. Socially, you know.”

Jay said, “Guys, let’s just cool it. Elijah, he didn’t mean it.”

Elijah repeated, “Apologize.” He knew he was leaving Evan no options. He could back down and apologize, or—

Evan tried to shove Elijah, but Elijah was faster and just stepped to the side. Evan swung at him. From above, somebody yelled, “Fight!”

E
VAN’S VOICE HAD CARRIED
easily across the water. Clinging to the edge of the raft, Sissy and Anne Beth watched the scene on the dock apprehensively. Anne Beth hissed, “Evan’s such a creep.”

Sissy said, “Elijah’s doing the white-knight thing.”

Both had seen Evan throw the first punch, which didn’t connect. The second had the same result. Elijah evaded him, saying something else they couldn’t hear.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” came a chant from above.

“This is awful,” Sissy says. “I don’t want to go back there.”

“Let’s swim to the beach instead,” Anne Beth suggested. “Those guys are drunk. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Let’s see what happens.” Sissy felt anxious on behalf of Elijah, slightly less so for Lucia. Evan Chamberlain could become ugly. She’d seen it before at the country club.

“Sissy, we should go,” Anne Beth repeated.

Jay grabbed Evan’s shoulders. “Easy, Ev. Let’s forget this, everyone. Elijah, take a walk.”

This time, Sissy heard Elijah. Never taking his eyes from Evan, he said, “Get your things, Lucia.” He nodded to Jay, took Lucia’s hand and started up the dock.

“Are they dating?” Anne Beth asked. “Why did he back down?”

“He didn’t.” Sissy lived with a pack of dogs. She’d seen the unspoken warning in the direction of Elijah’s gaze and in his stance. “He just knows Evan’s drunk and a moron and not worth it.” Just the way her parents’ champion Tide never bothered to fight Warren; a cold stare was enough. “Come on, let’s go. We can give them a ride.”

Anne Beth said, “I doubt they want company.”

Sissy exclaimed, “Oh, puh-leeze. He’d never go for her.”

S
ISSY HAD NOT WANTED
a Thunderbird for her sixteenth birthday. She had wanted a Corvette.

But she had received a turquoise Thunderbird and was delighted all the same. She’d driven Anne Beth to the party, and now she was taking Elijah and Lucia home. She’d dropped them off in order. Anne Beth’s house had been closest, then Lucia’s.

And now she and Elijah sat in the idling car outside Lucia’s house.

“Do you need to get right home?” Sissy asked.

Elijah glanced up, startled. “No. What about you?”

“I feel like having an adventure,” she said. “We could go to the Strip. We could go see the fish at the dam.”

“Kind of iffy down there this time of night,” Elijah replied.

“No, it’s not. We can get fudge.”

“Okay,” he agreed, and she saw his straight white teeth as he grinned in the dark.

The Workmans even go to the orthodontist,
she thought, still mentally arguing with her mother’s opinion of the family. Not that they’d discussed it lately. Sissy hadn’t
seen Elijah for months, except at school and sometimes at parties.

“Want to drive?” she asked.

“You trust me?”

“Definitely. After all, you didn’t swing at Evan. That was good judgment.”

His smile seemed slightly chagrined. “Why’s that?”

“Because he’d never forget it, and he’d act like a jerk to you for the rest of forever. That was nice of you, by the way.” Instead of getting out of the car, she stood up in her seat in her white pedal pushers and pale blue blouse. “Let’s switch seats.”

Elijah crawled under her, and she stepped over him, giving him a chance to admire her ankles.

“You’ve always liked Lucia, haven’t you?” she asked airily, settling in the passenger seat and finding the seat belt. “Seat belts,” she said. “It’s a family rule.”

Elijah obediently found his and adjusted it to fit him. He switched on the turn indicator, looked out in the street and pulled away from the curb. “She’s just a friend,” he said.