Last Night at the Blue Angel (18 page)

Mornin'
, he says, like I'm always here, like he's always here. He leans into Mother's chaise while he puts on his socks. I don't know how Mother can keep from watching him get dressed. I can't stop staring at him.

Do you want coffee?
I ask.

Yes
,
baby
, she says. I look at him once again. He leans over in front of Mother's vanity and slides little tabs into the underside of his collar.

I walk back to the kitchen, wobbly. Mostly I think of us as living in a bubble, being tumbled around by it gently, lit by its shiny lavender light. But every now and then I just have to give the wall a kick, to change the shape, to test its elasticity, and make a little more room.

I pick up the coffeepot, pull the lid off, turn on the water, and fill it. David walks in. I light the stove, set the pot on the flame, and dump some coffee in the basket. I can feel him watching and I try very hard to appear competent. As I slide the basket back on the rod and shove the lid on, I realize I need to add
percolator
to the list.

Guess you know your way around a kitchen
, he says. I turn to face him. He smiles and stares.
You've got your mother's hair
, he says.

No
,
I don't
.

You do. Trust me
.

He sits. The little chair is too small for him. He watches me. I try to invent things to do—thread the dish towel through the icebox handle, slide the spilled grounds off the counter and into the sink.

Why don't you take a load off
.

I sit down and look at the table, brush some of the ashes into my hand, and dump them back in the ashtray, then wipe my hands on my jeans.

You remember who I am?
he says.

I know. I met you two times now
. I know I sound mad.

You remember
, he says, leaning on his elbows.

And then his closeness, his eyes on me, change me, make me feel like I'm floating. He seems like an important person. And he's talking to me like nobody else exists.

Jim had a picture in the paper today
, I say. I squish a crumb with my thumb.
You'll probably see it
.

Well
,
good for Jim
.

He's basically my dad. He's been around my whole entire life
. I look up at David as I say this. His face becomes serious for a little while. One of his eyes squints at me. I don't look away.

He breathes in through his nose and smiles.
Good fella
,
Jim
.

Yup
.

We listen to Mother move from the bedroom to the bathroom, close the door, and start the bath.

I look at the square glass bubble on the top of the coffeepot.

I love your mother
, he says.

I laugh.

That funny?

Kind of
, I say.

We stare at each other. He is so tall and so calm. Like he already knows how everything works.

I know things
,
too
, I tell him.

He leans back and sets his big hands on his thighs.
I'd wager you know all kinds of things
.

I know you don't come when you say you're going to
, I tell him.

The coffee starts pushing up into the bubble, pale at first and slowly growing darker.

It's more complicated than it looks
, he says.
I want to be with your mother. You can only see one side of this
.

I stare at him. He watches me. I get up, pour her coffee, and take it to the bathroom.

Mother's head is on the narrow back ledge of the tub and her eyes are closed. Her face is damp, flushed and clean, her hair is wet. I set the cup on the side of the tub.

Thank you
,
baby
, she says, touching the side of my head with a dripping hand. I wipe a line of water off my cheek. She takes a sip of coffee and sets it down carefully.

Has he gone?

He's in the kitchen
. I close the lid of the toilet and sit on it.
Is he going to leave?

Probably
, she says. I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around them, putting my chin on my knees.

Is this confusing?
says Mother.

I pick at a piece of thread hanging from the hem of my pants.

Mother leans forward so she can reach me.

I don't want anything to mess us up
, she says as she runs a wet thumb along my eyebrow.
We have a good gig
,
don't you think?

I stare at her for a minute. She wants me to believe that she's protecting us but I don't. There's more. There always is. I rest my forehead on my knees. She always does this—makes me believe she's telling me everything and leaves out all the secrets, all the important bits.

My jeans smell like the diner—cigarette smoke, grease, and syrup. I start to cry. Mom rests her hand on my feet.

The door opens. David hovers in the doorway for a minute, then sits on the tile floor across from me, propping his elbow on the edge of the tub.

I peek at him through my arms, at his striped suit pants and dress shirt with the cuffs still open, at how he hardly fits on the floor he's so long.

This a . . . it's a small bathroom
, he says.

Mother covers as much of her breasts as she can by crossing her arms. She looks at him with one eyebrow arched.
If you're uncomfortable
,
go sit someplace else
.

So he stands, unfolding himself like a jackknife, and steps into the tub, shoes and all.

Don't mind if I do
, he says as he lowers his body into the water with Mother.

David Augustine Miller!
she yells, laughing and pulling her legs up out of the way. I don't even know I'm laughing because of how her face looks. Because for a moment, I feel like I'm seeing her real face, her real self. I can even see myself in her. The freckles, the hair starting to tighten into little curls around her wet forehead. The water overflows, splashes or the floor.

Well
,
now we've got a real mess on our hands
, says Mother.

I should say
, says David. They look at each other.
I could stick around
.
Help you clean it up. If you'd reconsider
.

Mother produces a washcloth from the bathwater and gently wipes the makeup from under her eyes. It's what she does when she needs to think—tends to her beauty. She could solve nearly any dilemma in the time it takes to apply lipstick, blot, and apply again.

I rest my chin on my arms and watch them.

How long?
she says. There's the face again. Her genuine face. It's like a girl almost.

I have to be with you
, says David.

Hmm
, she says.

David watches her as she thinks hard, as various expressions pass swiftly across her face.

Don't do that
, he says.

She looks like she's been reprimanded for the twentieth time for the same thing.
Well
,
what we've been doing isn't working
,
is it?

David sees hope in this. He slides his arms into the water, slowly lifts her heels, and rests her feet against his chest. He holds her feet flat against his chest like he wants to protect them.

They look at each other and quietly reach some sort of decision.

Then she seems to remember I'm there.
Kitten
,
remove this man from my bath
,
will you?

It's clear by David's face that he's won. I pretend to lift him out of the tub and the water runs off him, filling the rug, and I don't want to laugh but it is funny. Funnier, somehow, because I can imagine telling Elizabeth at school tomorrow, because I have someone to tell stories to now.

Then David begins to unbutton his wet shirt, so I leave.

CHAPTER 21

D
AVID IS MAKING
breakfast when Annie from housekeeping arrives to collect his suit.

He hands her some folded money. Annie doesn't raise an eyebrow.
Thank you
,
ma'am
, he says as he stands there barefoot in Mother's pink makeup smock. It's just long enough to cover his undershorts. His legs are long and strong and hairy like some sort of animal.

An hour later there's a knock at the door.
Must be my suit
, David says as he jumps up to answer it.
That was fast
. I look down at my paper, determined to finish the problem before he comes back.

Beg your pardon
, I hear David say.
I thought you were someone else
.

And who might you be?
says a woman's voice. I listen, think. As soon as I realize it's Mrs. LaFontaine, I run to the door.

I'm a friend of Miss Hill's
, says David.

Mrs. LaFontaine looks him up and down.
Is that so?

Mother comes out of the kitchen in her long peach robe, braless still, smoking.
Mrs. LaFontaine!
she says, rushing to close her robe around her.

Mrs. LaFontaine marches past David and holds a newspaper up in the air.
You better explain this!

I don't know what you're talking about
, says Mother.

A photograph of my child in the
Sun-Times,
playing in a building that is CONDEMNED. THAT is what I'm talking about
. She shakes the paper at Mother.
I entrusted her to your care
.

It was my idea
, I say, stepping in front of Mrs. LaFontaine.
Mother didn't even know
.

Mrs. LaFontaine looks at me like she pities me.
You are a child
, she says, moving her eyes slowly to Mother.
You didn't know?

It's not like that
, says Mother.

David steps forward.
Why don't we simmer down a bit and have a seat. Talk this through
.

Mrs. LaFontaine says to David,
The man in a housedress wants me to simmer down
.

I assure you I can explain
, says Mother.
Jim
,
my Jim
,
is very capable. He took the girls on a little field trip—

Mrs. LaFontaine puts her hand on her hip.
The man you pretend is your husband? About whom your child lies?

Mother glances at me and says gently to her,
Can we please sort this out? Over some coffee? I believe we can sort this out
.

Mrs. LaFontaine straightens and her face softens. She says calmly,
I am not going to sit in this place and be party to the . . . loose operation you are running. Nor is my daughter. Ever again
.

She looks down at me.
Sophia
,
my dear
,
I am sorry
. To Mother she says,
Good day
,
Miss Hill
. David nods at her and she makes a barely perceptible click with her mouth.

I stare at them both with their robes on, their startled looks.

Mother turns to me, her face a caricature of surprise.

I hate you
, I say, barely able to get the words out, and walk to my room. Her disbelief is hot as the sun on my back.

I
open my music box and take out the Schlitz bottle opener I stole from the Armory. Mother's record sits on top of the stack and I pull it out so I can drag the bottle opener straight across the black vinyl. Then I write David's name in the back of my notebook. It used to be a list of people Mother loved but now I think it's a list of people she's going to leave.

An hour later, when I hear the door, I leave my room to open it. I am sure it's Jim. I feel my anger has pulled him here. But it's Annie.

Like new
, she says, handing me the suit, looking at me the way Mrs. LaFontaine looked at me.

David comes up behind me and thanks her. He carries the suit to Mother's bedroom. While he's dressing, Mother moves around the living room in such a way that each wall seems to appear sooner than she'd expected. It's not hard to see that she hasn't given a second thought to me, to what I said. She pours herself a drink and arranges herself on the chaise.

Back in his suit, David quickens. He bends over Mother.

It might be late
, he says.

Mother gives a light smile, a shrug.

He squats in front of me.

Where you going?
I ask.

To take care of a few things
, he says.

He leans forward to kiss my head but I move out of the way. Mother studies the ceiling as he leaves.

Is he coming back?
I ask. She doesn't answer.

Where are you going?
she says as I turn to leave.

Back to my room
.

She reaches her hand toward me.
No, no
,
don't
, she says.
Stay with me
.

I go into my room and shut the door.

I
don't know what to do when I get to school but keep my head down and pretend to be working on my numbers. The boys say something to me that I don't hear. Looks from the other students tell me it was something particularly rough. But all I can think about is Elizabeth. I put my head down and let her come to me.

The bell is going to ring any second and she's still not here. I prop my desk lid with my ruler and rearrange my desk, making a pile of papers on the floor—math homework I couldn't finish and never turned in, drawings I started and hated, penmanship practice pages.

Paul says,
Maybe she's a little doggy. The papers are in case she pees
.

I gather the papers in my arms and take them to the wastepaper basket.

Just then Elizabeth walks in the door, a little breathless. She hugs me and we walk arm in arm back to our desks. The students look away from us.

We take our seats and Elizabeth scooches her desk closer to mine.

Ladies
,
no moving desks
, says Sister Marie.

Elizabeth wiggles her desk a bit, making a little noise on the floor, but she doesn't actually move it back to where it was.