Reckless Point (13 page)

I met his gaze, letting him know I was unbothered if he was. 
“Hey do I look like I’ve just been hammered with passionate abandon over a pool table?”

He raised an eyebrow, considering.  “Yeah,” he answered with a slow smile.  “You do.” 

I nodded, smiling back at him.  “Okay then.”  I held out my hand.  “Let’s go.” 

We walked the two blocks to Tom Hennessy’s house.  He was one of the more predictable ones; a guy who met his glory years early, married young, and then scratched his head with bewilderment at the home and family he had created.

There were cars and beaten pickup trucks parked up and down the street a
lready.   I was disconcerted to realize that we were on Oak Street.  Krista and Keith lived on Oak Street.  Of course this had been my cousin’s crowd years earlier and she might have shown up anyway but as we walked past her bare yellow house I realized her presence was a virtual certainty. 

Cindy Page Hennessy waved gaily from the side gate.  In her arms was a fat baby of uncertain gender.  “Hey you guys!  Go on out back.  I’ve got to get this kid changed.”  The broken screen door opened with a shriek and Cindy disappeared inside the house. 

Before we reached the backyard I could hear the buzz of
vulgar laughter and the squeals of more than a few young children. 

“Banger!”
shouted a crude male voice and I thought Marco cringed a little. 

As I stepped into that backyard I felt awash in the same sensation that had overtaken me at the block party.  So many familiar faces it made my head hurt.
I could tell we had been objects of some discussion as more than a few regarded us with frank and unabashed curiosity.  Krista glanced our way briefly before coldly turning her back and speaking quietly to her surrounding clique.  Marco gave my hand the slightest squeeze. 

Tom Hennessy appeared out of nowhere wearing a grease-stained chef’s apron and carrying a couple of beers which he agreeably handed over.  “
Angie,” he said with some surprise.  “You back here for good?”

“No,” I answered a little too quickly as
I accepted the cold can. 

“Oh,” said Tom, shrugging, forgetting me already.  “Hey,” he poked Marco in the arm, “after I get this next round of meat off the grill, I want you to come take a look at what’s in the garage.” 

“You got it?” Marco asked with some surprise, cracking the beer open and taking a long swallow. 

Tom nodded. 
“Yep.  Tranny is a little fucked but she runs.  Took a few days to convince Cindy but a woman can always be worked.  Aw hell, I don’t need to tell you that.”

Marco glanced at me as
I frowned and stared at the patchy grass.

“
Yo Cindy!” Tom bellowed toward the house. 

Cindy emerged with the baby on her hip.  “What?” she complained. 

Tom removed his apron.  “You go look after my meat.  I want to show Marco the car.”

At the mention of Tom’s new toy, Cindy’s face fell.  It was obvious whatever Tom thought he had won had come at a cost. 

Tom jerked his head at me.  “You can hand the kid off to Angie.” 

“Yeah, I don’t mind at all,” I said, although from my tone it was obvious I minded a whole hell of a lot. 

Cindy shot me a look of apology and heaved the red-faced infant into my arms before retreating to the smoking grill on the patio. 

From the look of the small row of pink flowers lining the baby’s onesie
, I guessed the baby to be a girl.  A trio of hollering toddlers ran past and I recognized two of them as Krista’s kids. 

Spotting an unoccupied patch of grass by the weeping willow tree in the corner of the yard, I carried the baby over and set her gently on the ground. 
She patted the ground with her chubby palms and squealed, kicking her feet and turning to me with such a look of rapture I felt a sudden untapped ache.  Since about the age of twelve I’d never liked babies and they’d never liked me.  Almost all the women I’d known in my youth had been saddled with the crushing responsibility of babies who demanded and grew and then demanded some more.  It wasn’t a life path I’d ever coveted.  I didn’t know why anyone would.

Until Tom and Cindy Hennessy’s tiny daughter gurgled and reached for
me with unquestioned trust.  I gathered her into my arms and breathed in the delicious clean smell of her body, thinking for the first time…
maybe
. 

“Hey, Angela.”
  Shannon Cortez had disengaged herself from Krista’s coterie and joined me on the grass, settling in the shade with a sigh.  She had married and moved to her husband’s small town all the way east by the shore but I did not recall either the place or the man so to me she remained Shannon Cortez of Polaris Lane.  She was in Tony’s class and often showed up at my house as if casually pausing on her way somewhere.  Shannon was one of the girls people whispered about even as they had to know their own daughters and sisters were doing the same things they accused her of.  It was because of her mother, Rosie.  Rosie ran around with a lot of men who weren’t her own quiet, steady husband and one day she up and ran off with one.   My own mother was always unwilling to condemn Rosie since her eldest daughter had died from an aggressive malignant brain tumor at age six.   Grace said a woman who suffered such an incomparable tragedy was bound to lose some sense.    

“
Hi Shannon.  Been a long time.  How are you doing?”

“Divorced.  Well, getting there anyway.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

She smiled.  The pale freckled face beneath a mane of jet black hair reflected the
combination of her Irish mother and Puerto Rican father.  “I’m not,” she said.  “The boys and I are better off without him.”

“You have two, right?”

“Yup.”  She pointed to a pair of dark-haired boys who were digging in the tomato garden.  “Sam is four and Ryan is six.”  She sighed.  “I guess you know I’m back at home.” 

I nodded slowly.  “I did, yes.” 

‘Home’ would be the pert green cottage-style house at the bowed end of Polaris Lane.  I’d only been inside a few times, long enough to see a poster-sized framed photo of a small dark-haired girl I’d never met.

Shannon tickled the baby’s feet, laughing.  “
You should have heard the vinegar coming out of Krista’s mouth when you rolled in with Marco.” 

I bit my lip
.  “I can imagine.”

She looked at me kindly.  “Good for you, though.  He’s not a bad guy. 
He just plays one sometimes.  I mean jeez, he didn’t have to give me a job.” 

I was surprised.  “You’re working down at the Cave?”

“Three nights a week,” she nodde
d
. 
“
I can only live off Daddy’s goodwill for so long and looks like the child support checks will be few and in between.
”
She stared thoughtfully across the yard.  “He feels sorry for me, I guess.  Woman alone with two boys to raise.  It’s a familiar story, especially to him.  Don’t worry though.  There’s nothing between Marco and me.  There never was, not even in the old days.” She gave a short humorless laugh.  “I was an even bigger fool than that.”

The baby crawled into my lap.
“How so?”

Shannon shot me a rueful grin.  “I was desperately
in love with your brother,” she said.  Then she touched the baby’s cheek lightly and joined her boys in the garden. 

Eventually Marco and Tom returned to the backyard.  Cindy hissed something obscene at
her husband and shoved the long metal barbecue flipper into his soft belly.  He only shook his head and turned away as she stormed across the yard to retrieve her baby. 

“Sorry, Angie,” she said, hauling the child into her arms. 

“It’s all right.  We’ve been having a nice time.  What’s her name?”

Cindy smiled briefly as she looked at her hiccoughing daughter.  “Alice.”  Her smile faded.
  “Tom thought after two girls third time would be the charm and we could finally put the stem on the apple.  But no.”  She sighed.  “I warned him this time we were gonna wait at least two years before trying again or I might lose my goddamn mind.” 

“Oh,” I said,
standing and brushing the grass off my behind and feeling a little embarrassed for the misfortunes of formerly pretty little Cindy Page.  I touched the baby’s back.  “She’s beautiful,” I said softly. 

Cindy smiled at me gratefully.  “She is, isn’t
she.”

As Cindy walked away I searched out Marco.  He appeared to be li
stening to Tom Hennessy who waved the burger spatula around and talked excitedly about god only knew what.  But Marco’s brown eyes were fixed firmly on me.  He did not flinch as I stared back at him nor did he betray the slightest hint of emotion.  And even if someone offered me a million dollar prize I could not have said with any confidence what Marco Bendetti was thinking. 

The harsh sound of Van Halen
had been drifting across the yard over the chatter of the crowd.  Laura McCaffrey, a ditzy, bucktoothed girl who had grown into a ditzy, bucktoothed woman switched the tape out in the boom box which had been blasting music from a picnic table. 

A moment later the peppy music of The Go-
Gos filled the air and I felt as if I was at one of the high school parties I had never actually attended.   I spotted Keith French standing in the shade of a crab apple tree.  He held his youngest son in one hand and a beer in another, watching his wife from ten feet away as she squealed and began waving her arms around in tipsy idiocy. 

Krista ran over to where Marco
idled next to Tom Hennessy.  She clutched his arm, whispering in his ear and he looked at her with some alarm, backing away a few inches and glancing at Keith, who seemed distinctly unamused. 

Belinda Carlisle began singing
‘Our Lips Are Sealed’
and I’d heard it all before, seen it all before.  Krista and Marco never had what you’d call a relationship but they’d had something…

***

It was a few weeks before the start of senior year. My dad always frowned when I blasted music in the store but it was my birthday and anyway he’d headed down the street to Kaminski’s to speak to my uncle. So I popped The Go-Gos into the tape deck and began singing along as I scrubbed the crusted syrup from the soda fountain. 

I heard the roar of the motorcycle over the music.  Those deep engines were a familiar sound in CPV.  Get a whole pack of them together, riding down Main Street
, and the chorus was deafening.  But as I paused and looked out the window toward the sound I grimaced.  It was only Marco Bendetti.  He had parked on the sidewalk again with Krista teetering on the back of his bike.  She tossed her blond hair, clapped her hands and laughed as he wrapped his hands around her waist, hoisting her up as if she were a doll.

Krista wrapped her legs around him and for a terrible moment the tw
o of them made out like crazy with Krista’s Calvin Klein ass pressed against the window. I gaped and dropped the wet towel I was holding.  Marco came up for air and looked into the glass.  I thought he saw me staring but he only ran a hand through his wavy hair and I realized he was just admiring his reflection. 

“Don’t come in, please
please,” I quietly begged to no one.  And no one listened. 

Krista burst through the door in a fit of giggles.  Spotting me, she opened her arms.  “Happy Birthday, sweet cousin,” she said, folding me into a phony hug. 

“Thanks,” I muttered and retrieved the towel from the floor.

Marco grinned at me and pointed a finger.  “Your mom,” he said, “always brought the most awesome cupcakes to school for your birthday. 
Had fancy colored icing and shit.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.  “They did.” 

“How come she doesn’t do that anymore?”

I sighed witheringly.  “
Because we’re in high school, Marco.” 

Krista ran a pink-polished nail over Marco’s chest.  “
We’ll all be over for cake later, Angela.  I helped Mom pick out your present.”

My Aunt Becky was in the habit of gifting me with clothes which encouraged me to lose twenty pounds.  It was humiliating.  “I can’t wait,”
I sighed. 

“Hey,”
piped up Marco, “am I invited for cake?”

Krista poked him in the chest.  “Ah, no.  My folks would go freaking ballistic
that you’re around again.  They think you’re a shitty influence.”

Marco laughed as Krista’
s manicured hand traveled underneath his shirt.  “Imagine that.” 

Then they kissed so long and so deep I wondered if their
teeth had become cemented together. 

Krista broke the kiss and slapped him playfully.  “You messed up my lip gloss,” she pouted. 

Marco rolled his eyes.  “Whatever.” 

“Angie, I’m
gonna use the bathroom to freshen up from this savage, okay?”

“Fine.  You know where it is.” 

Krista blew a kiss to her beloved and bounced to the rear of the store, glancing back happily.   She was a fool, I thought, messing around with Marco again. Marco Bendetti didn’t have girlfriends; he just had girls. 

I returned to scrubbing the soda fountain
, very aware that Marco was watching me from four feet away.  He plucked a paper cup from the top of the stack and began filling it with Sprite.  He filled the cup to the brim, yanking it away from the fountain just as it was about to overflow.