I Know This Much Is True (128 page)

Drove it all the way out to Ohio and back without a spare tire. Edna had died from liver problems, he said—from drink. Forty-one years old and she’d looked about
sixty
-one, lying there in that coffin.

Other than that one trip, he’d left Ohio behind him at seventeen and never looked back.

In the war, he’d been stationed in France and then, later on, in Italy.
It-ly,
he pronounced it. The Italians were good people, he said—
hospitable
people, even in the middle of war. When he got out, he sold vacuum cleaners for a while. He’d dated a gal up in Framingham, Massachusetts, but it hadn’t worked out. Olga, her name was. Ukrainian gal. Too bossy. When Korea started up, Ray had reenlisted. He didn’t have to go—not by any means. He was I Know[749-858] 7/24/02 1:42 PM Page 856

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only a couple of years from the cutoff age for enlisted men by that time. But he’d always felt a duty to his country, right or wrong. He didn’t even question right or wrong. That was for the big shots and the politicians to decide. And besides that, he still had the fight left in him. Plenty of “piss and vinegar” that he might as well spend on the North Koreans as on the guy at the barstool next to him, or the jerk that had just cut in front of him while he was driving along, minding his own business.

“Then, after I got out of that one, that was when the job with Fuller Brush came along. It was just a stopgap thing until I could get something better. But that was how I met your mother, of course. Lets me in over there at the house, and I start unpacking my samples, and all of a sudden she bursts into tears. Just burst right into tears. At first, I didn’t know what the hell had happened. I thought she’d hurt herself or something.

“She had her hands full with you two, of course. Both of you had earaches that first day I stopped in, I remember; you’d both been running her ragged. And, of course, she was all alone. She’d lost her father the year before—was just barely scraping by on what he had left her. I kind of felt sorry for her. She was in way over her head. . . .

“Course, I was kind of sweet on her, too. She had some nice curves to her. And that mouth of hers—that never bothered me.

‘Just as kissable as anyone else’s,’ I used to tell her. I knew right away she was a good woman. Kind of shy, maybe, but I didn’t mind that.

I’d come to like Italians, see? Because of my experiences in the war.

. . . She was nothing like Edna—your mother. She’d just made a mistake, that was all. Anyone can make a mistake. You think
I
was an angel when I was in the Navy? I’d stuck my dipstick into plenty of places I shouldn’t have. Plus, I kind of got a kick out of you kids.

‘Double trouble,’ I used to call the two of you. You were both a couple of hellions.”

His presence in your life has been a constant,
I heard Doc Patel tell me.
He has been there, borne witness.

“I know I made mistakes with you two,” he said. “With him, especially. That day of the funeral, there? Afterward—back at the house?

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You weren’t accusing me of anything that I hadn’t already accused myself of. . . . I just never understood that kid. Me and him, we were like oil and water. . . . I hadn’t grown up with a father, see? All I knew was that it was a tough world out there. I figured that was the one thing I could do for you two: toughen you up a little, so that you could take whatever sucker punches life was going to throw at you. . . .

‘They’re just little boys, Ray,’ she used to say to me all the time. But I didn’t see it. I was pigheaded about it, I guess. And, of course, I knew neither of you two liked me that much. Had me pegged as the bad guy all the time. The guy who wrecked everyone’s fun. Sometimes you three would be laughing at something, and I’d walk into the room, and
bam!
three long faces.”

“It was your temper,” I said. “We were afraid of you.”

He nodded. “I have a bad temper. I know I do. It was because of what I’d come from. I was mad at the world, I guess. . . . But Jesus, I’d get so mad at her when she tried to run interference for him all the time. That used to drive me up the ever-loving wall. . . . And, of course, that day I come home and found the two of them up there, him in that foolish hat, those high-heel shoes . . .

“I failed him—I know that. Probably failed the both of you.

Right?”

I couldn’t answer him. Jesus, he’d been brutal to us. But he’d
been
there. . . . He’d told Ma her mouth was just as kissable as anyone else’s.

“Things get clearer when you’re older,” he said. “Of course, by then it’s too late.”

I’d finished shaving him. Wheeled him out of his bathroom and over by the bed. I sat down next to him. “It wasn’t just you,” I said. “We were all a little screwed up, Ma included.”

“She had her quirks like everyone else,” he said. “But she was a good woman.”

My heart thumped in my chest. I almost couldn’t get it out.

Almost couldn’t ask it.

“Before?” I said. “When you said that neither of you were angels?

Did you . . . did she ever tell you who he was? Our father?”

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We looked each other in the eye. I waited, not even breathing.

My whole life rode on his answer.

“We never talked about that kind of stuff,” he finally said. “Had kind of an unspoken deal, I guess. All that was water under the bridge. . . . We just let the past lie, her and me.”

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f

Leo’s racquet scooped low for the shot.
Thwock!
The ball skidded up the back wall, arced high across the court, and grazed the front wall six inches from the floor.

“And I
am
,” he shouted, “the
King
of Racquetball!”

“Nice shot,” I conceded. “Okay, that’s it. Your game.”

He’d just whipped me three in a row—something he’d never been able to do before. Soaked with sweat, out of breath, we headed for the rain room.

“Hey, Birds,” Leo called over, midshampoo. “You got time for a beer?”

I told him I didn’t—that I had to get dressed and get out of there.

“Yeah? What for? You got a hot date or something?”

I cut the water, grabbed my towel. “Hot date with Ray’s social worker,” I said. “We’ve got to go over his Medicare stuff.”

It was a lie. Joy had called, out of the blue, the night before. She was in Three Rivers visiting friends, she’d said; she wondered if she could come over and see me before she went back. Just to say hello, show me
859

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the baby. I’d said no at first. What was the point? But she’d kept pushing: we hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, there was so much that she wanted to tell me about. Had I gotten the picture she’d sent of Tyffanie?

That hospital mug shot: for some stupid reason, I’d stuck it on my refrigerator door. Joy promised she wouldn’t stay long. A fifteen-minute visit and she’d be on her way.

“Must be a bummer, huh?” Leo said. “All that convalescent-home bullshit?”

“It’s doable,” I said. “Especially now that Ray’s mellowed out a little.” If I had told Leo about Joy, I would have gotten a lecture about how I didn’t owe that bitch anything. How, after what she’d tried to pull, I should have just told her to go to hell and hung up on her. I
knew
it was stupid, meeting her; I didn’t need Leo to point that out.

But fifteen minutes was all she’d asked for. You could live through anything for fifteen minutes.

“Hey,” I said. “Let me see your deodorant, will you? I was in a rush getting over here. Forgot all my shit.” The truth was that I’d been distracted—nervous about Joy’s visit.

“Geez, I don’t know, Birdsey,” Leo said. “I’m not sure I want to make that big a commitment to you yet.” His Dry Idea came flying at me. “Hey, Dominick. Guess what I heard today? From Irene?”

When I looked over at him, he was pulling up a pair of jazzy boxer shorts. “Whoo-ee,” I said. “Where’s my sunglasses? When’d you start wearing those things?”

“Since I read what jockeys do to your sperm count,” he said. “But listen to me. I’m serious. She said that Big Gene told her—”

“Who said?”

“
Irene
. Their
accountant
. She says Gene told her he’s thinking about retiring at the end of the year. Doing some traveling with Thula. I think that tumble she took over at the house kind of scared them a little. Forced them to reevaluate things or whatever. . . . End of
this
year, Birdsey. Nobody knows yet.”

“I don’t believe it,” I said. “They’re not going to have to
carry
him out of there?”

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I laced up my sneakers, went over to the mirror to calm my hair down a little. I’d forgotten my hairbrush back at the house, too. If I’d known that seeing her was going to get me this bent out of shape, I’d have stuck to my guns. I raked my fingers through my hair. That was all she was getting: a quick finger-comb. I didn’t even owe her
that
much.

“Hey, Dominick?” Leo said. He had that anxious look on his face that he gets sometimes. I was pretty sure I knew what was coming.

“Let’s say he
does
pack it in. I mean, I’ll believe it when I see it, too, but let’s
say
he does. . . . You think I’d have a shot at General Manager?”

Poor Leo: he was the Rodney Dangerfield of Constantine Motors.

All those years down at that place, and all he’d ever really wanted was a little respect from his father-in-law. That, and his own office—a desk parked
off
the showroom floor. But, sure as hell, the partnership was going to bypass him and name Costas’s son, Peter, as General Manager. Big Gene would kick Leo in the balls one more time. Break his daughter Angie’s heart by breaking her husband’s agates. No doubt about it.

“I think you got a shot at it if the partners have half a brain among them,” I said.

“You think I could handle it?”

I looked at his face in the mirror, behind my face. My answer was important. “You kidding me?” I said. “You’d do a
great
job.”

That was the thing with Leo: for all his bullshit, all his bluster, he’d always registered a little low in the self-esteem department. He should have left that dealership years ago.

He nodded, pleased with my answer. “Yeah, my time has come, I think. I’ve had their best sales the last four months in a row. Did I tell you that?” He knotted his tie, banged his locker door shut. “I’m freakin’ forty-three years old, man. I’m the father of his
grand
children.”

“Hey, speaking of which,” I said. “What the fuck you worrying about your sperm count for?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Us sex machines just worry about shit like that.”

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We left the gym, headed toward our cars. I was easing out of the parking lot, stewing again about Joy’s visit, when Leo tooted, motioning me to wait. I braked, rolled down my window. He pulled up beside me. “Hey, I heard something else today,” he said. “I’m not supposed to say anything. Angie would kill me. It’s about her sister.”

My hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. I waited.

“She and Danny? They’re splitting up.”

I just sat there, nodding, unable to think.

“It’s not another woman or anything. It’s one of those stay-friends-but-go-their-separate-ways deals. He wants to move back to Santa Fe and she wants to stay here.”

“It’s definite?”

“Far as I know. At first she was going with him, but then she did an about-face. Hey, don’t call her or anything, Dominick. Okay? Angie would murder me. The Old Man and the Old Lady don’t even know about it yet.”

I said I wouldn’t say anything.

“So anyway, about that other thing? You really think I got a shot at it?”

“What? . . . Yeah. Absolutely.”

“You think I could handle it, though? Right? Be honest. It’s not like I majored in business or anything.”

“You majored in acting,” I said. “That’s
better
training for that place. And anyway, you had their best sales the last four months in a row, you just swept me in racquetball. You’re fuckin’
invincible
, Leo.”

He grinned. Nodded in agreement. “I’m fuckin’
invincible
.”

Driving home, I wondered why the news about Dessa wasn’t elating me. I’d been waiting for years to hear what Leo had just said. For
years
. . . She’d probably stay out there at that farmhouse, I figured. Or sell it, maybe. If she was going to sell, she’d better get that damn place repainted. Subtract five or six thousand from the asking price if she didn’t. It figured, though, didn’t it? Now that I’d just sold all my equipment, she’d probably want to get it painted. . . . But maybe she’d stay there. Live by herself for a while. I wondered what she’d do about that jazzy mailbox of theirs: paint over it? Leave it as is?
Constantine-Mixx,
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happily ever after. . . .
Much as I’d always wanted to hate Dan the Man, I’d never quite gotten the hang of it. From all reports, he was a nice enough guy—even Leo admitted it. He’d been decent to me that day on the phone, after my brother died. I had to give him that much.

. . . But she wasn’t going to come back to me. Life didn’t work that way. You couldn’t just pick up where you’d left off. For my own mental health, I might as well nip that little fantasy right in the bud. You see that, Doc? Aren’t you proud of me? . . . It must have been hard for her, though, these last couple of months: deciding whether to go or stay. I wondered if it had anything to do with those kids over there. Those sick kids at the hospital. . . .