Summer People (30 page)

“You're taking her home tomorrow?” Ralph asked. He stole a glance at Nathan, but Nathan kept his eyes fixed on Glen.

They remained in the kitchen, sorting out the details, then Ralph trudged up the front stairs and Glen followed behind him. The older man carried a bottle of wine and his empty glass as he told both of them good night.

Nathan wandered over to stare out the French doors. His spirits had been momentarily lifted by the knowledge that he would be paid for the entire summer. But the fact remained that in a few days he would be back in essentially the same drab situation he'd been in before the summer began. He didn't have to stay in Cleveland, he knew, but the more he thought about his old college friend in New York, the more he realized how much time had passed since they'd spoken and how presumptuous it would be to ask to stay at his apartment for more than a couple of days. Nathan wasn't ruling it out—maybe a couple of days was all the time he would need to find an apartment—but would it make sense to go there without knowing what he would do to make money, and whether Leah would want to continue to date him? When he called Eldwin's house, Nathan was not surprised to learn she wasn't there. He sat back in his chair and sighed, wondering if it would be brave or senseless for him to go to the party. Leah knew he didn't have much time left in Brightonfield Cove, yet she was asking him to meet her at a party that would most likely be attended by the same apes who had attacked him. He was settling into the idea of not going—of just hanging out around the house with Ralph, drinking—when Ralph bounded downstairs, freshly shaved, wearing a blue button-down shirt.

“Looking snazzy,” Nathan said, toasting him with his glass.

“Yeah, I passed a party when I was jogging, and I think I'm going to head over.”

“Whose party?”

“I don't know,” Ralph said, distracted by a nearby mirror. “There were a lot of people going in, though, so I don't think it really matters. Are you doing something with what's her name?”

Nathan felt a nervous tightening in his stomach, but he rubbed his jaw and nodded. “I am. I think so. I think I'm actually supposed to meet her there.”

 

T
he story of Glen's paroxysm of anger did not impress Ralph. As they walked beneath the trees of Birch Hill Boulevard, he said, “That's just the way Dr. Jekyll deals with things. He goes all Hyde on you for a little while and then he's Mr. Milquetoast Professor again. Who gives a hootenanny what the guy says, anyway? You know you were doing the best that you could and you're getting paid for the rest of the summer.”

“Is it hard for you to deal with him when he's staying with you at the house?”

“Nah,” Ralph said. “I'm not even going to be there much longer. I'm moving into a house with these friends of mine who have their own darkroom, which should be cool.”

They talked a little about his new living arrangement, then Nathan asked, “How did you end up at Ellen's, anyway?”

Ralph explained that when Ellen's husband died, Glen had wanted someone to live in the house with her. “At the time, I wanted out of the fraternity house I was living in because they didn't like Carter—my boa constrictor—and they wouldn't let me have my guns.”

Nathan smiled, but Ralph appeared genuinely resentful, recalling the injustices he'd endured.

“Plus, my mom wouldn't pay for me to live in an apartment when Aunt Ellen lives so close to campus. That's why I got a job at this frame shop—to pay the rent on the room in this house. I don't hate living with
Aunt Ellen, but it's like going through college living with your grandma, you know?”

“Doesn't she have any friends her own age who want to live with her?”

Ralph said, “I could probably count on one hand the people who have stopped by the house since I've been there. How many people have come to visit her here?”

This was something that had been on Nathan's mind. Despite the demonstrations of affection from people at the club and at church, very few had actually stopped by the house to visit. Nathan counted. “Three.”

“How many of them were men?”

“Two.”

“I'm surprised it wasn't three.”

“Why?”

“Because, dude, you haven't noticed? For the most part, Aunt Ellen only wants to be around men. I'm sure if it was five years ago, she'd have no problem finding somebody to go play golf with or whatever. But now that she's older, I think you can tell she didn't have any real friendships with women. None of them comes around to hang out. I think she was just one of those people always looking for romance to save them.”

 

T
he site of the party was a rehabilitated red-and-white firehouse, with a rectangular tower that rose to a windowed room overlooking Brightonfield Cove. As they walked up the front porch steps, music wafted through open windows, and Nathan glanced inside at the shadowy mingling of people. The door was opened by Ethan, the same lantern-jawed young man who had been on his way to the hot tub at Thayer's party, and who had continued moseying up the road while Nathan battled Thayer and the juggernaut. Ethan had the air of a broad-chested, Ivy League swimmer who did not want to be seen as just a jock. His dark, carefully mussed hair seemed an affectation of restless creativity, and his faded Merge Records T-shirt advertised his deep awareness of what was cool. Waving them in distractedly, he said, “Hey, come on in,” although his smile slipped when he glanced at Nathan.

College-age men and women were scattered throughout the high-ceilinged living room, lounging on couches and leaning against the walls. Nathan didn't see Thayer or his thickly built friend, but, pushing forward, he glimpsed Leah in the far corner of the kitchen, talking with Danielle. Leah was wearing the same faded blue T-shirt she wore the night Nathan had rowed her out to Stone Island.

He and Ralph stood in front of the keg beside the refrigerator, filling plastic cups with beer. “Some of the guys I was in that fight with will probably be here,” Nathan said. “The guy who opened the door was with them, but he didn't fight.”

“How big are the rest of them?”

“Medium build. They look like they probably work out every once in a while.”

“Well, I've got your back,” Ralph said.

“Thanks.”

“And if it looks like we're losing, I'll feign a seizure.”

Nathan gestured forward with his beer. “C'mon over and I'll introduce you to Leah.”

They wove through the knots of people until Nathan could distinguish Leah's voice from the others. “That's my situation, too,” she was saying as he stepped behind her and rested his palm on her back. When she turned, Nathan wondered if he glimpsed in her expression disappointed surprise that he had come. Leah and Danielle introduced themselves to Ralph, and there followed an awkward moment during which no one seemed to know what to say.

“So who the hell are all these people?” Nathan blurted.

“Some of them are from here, but I think a lot of them are probably Ethan's friends from Harvard,” Leah said, glancing at Danielle for confirmation. Danielle stared out at the mass of people in the living room and nodded.

“Did you find out from Glen when he's taking Ellen home?” Leah asked.

“Yeah, it looks like they're going to fly her home tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

Ralph said, “It's too fucking soon if you ask me. I think Glen just wants to go home.”

Nathan explained to the young women that Glen studied dinosaurs and needed to get back before the early winter in Wyoming in order to gather samples from the field.

“So when do you have to leave?” Leah asked.

Nathan hoped he and Leah could have at least one evening alone in Ellen's house before he had to drive the car back to Cleveland, and he was afraid of saying anything in Ralph's presence that would encourage him to remain. “I'm not sure,” Nathan said. “I imagine I'll have to leave pretty soon after they do because they need to have the car back in Cleveland.”

Leah looked up at him sympathetically and Nathan gave the same wan, tragic smile he might have given if he'd just announced he was going to war. Then he gulped the rest of his beer. He had envisioned having this conversation with her somewhere else—on the beach, or in his room—where they wouldn't have to act so casual and could talk with greater candor about their feelings. But now the news was out and the conversation moved on. Danielle was answering Ralph's questions by telling them about her life in Boston and her aspirations of working as a TV news producer. Nathan tried to listen, but he could barely hear her over the din of conversations behind him. Turning to Leah, he said, “Glen got kind of angry with me on the porch this evening.”

Leah looked at him, surprised. “Why?”

“Lots of things. He heard that I was spending too much time with you, and not paying enough attention to Ellen, but he was also pissed off because Mr. McAlister told him I almost wasn't there the night Ellen fell.”

Leah shook her head in commiseration as she glanced out at the people in the living room.

Nathan said, “I'm trying to figure out how Mr. McAlister would have known.”

When it occurred to her what Nathan was asking, Leah looked back at him, disgruntled. “I didn't tell him.”

“Did you tell Thayer?”

Leah hesitated, the decision to tell the truth or not wavering within her dark eyes, but she kept her gaze level. “I told some people last night.”

“Why?”

“We were just talking. I don't know. I was just saying how lucky it was that you were able to be there for her. I didn't think Glen would hear about it or be mad at you.” Her last words were clipped with resentment, and Nathan wondered if she was drunk.

“Anyway,” Nathan said. “He's going to pay me for the rest of the summer.”

“That's great,” Leah said, her face brightening.

Nathan wondered if her response was due to relief at changing the subject, or whether she was genuinely delighted for him, but he wanted to believe in what would make him happier.

“Yeah, so that'll give me a little launching pad if I decide to leave Cleveland.” Gesturing down at her mostly empty cup, he asked, “Do you need a refill?”

“Okay.”

Nathan left to refill their cups, but when he returned, Leah and Danielle were no longer where he had left them. Ralph was still in the corner, engrossed in conversation with a guy wearing a train engineer's cap. Nathan half-listened to them talk about the fact that many of these people were from the same housing unit at Harvard, and leaned closer when the young man asked if they had been out back. “I've got to go find my girlfriend, but you guys should check it out.”

“They've got badminton,” Ralph said, looking to see if Nathan shared his enthusiasm.

Nathan didn't, but he was ready to leave the congested corner and finally breathe some fresh air. They lingered long enough for Nathan to finish one of the beers he was holding, then they opened the sliding glass doors onto the deck. The backyard was separated from the neighbor's by
a small forest of trees alive with the blinking of lightning bugs and the steady chatter of crickets. Lamp lights affixed to the house shone down onto the grass where two couples—one on either side of the net—volleyed the shuttlecock back and forth in what may or may not have been an actual competition. Nathan and Ralph leaned against the railing with their beers and watched them play.

Ralph asked about Danielle, but Nathan wasn't able to tell him much, and he wasn't interested in talking about her, anyway.

“I'm trying to figure out what I'm doing when I leave here,” Nathan said. He explained how, as a low-income, aspiring graphic novelist, his low-rent, low-responsibilities life in Cleveland still dimly appealed to him. When he spoke of maybe moving to New York to be near Leah, Ralph discouraged a life of wage slavery.

“You should take over my room at Ellen's, man, not have to pay rent at all.”

Nathan laughed. “I don't think Glen would be crazy about me living there.”

“He would probably like you living there more than he's liked me living there.”

“I just had a shouting match with the guy.”

“I've had a dozen shouting matches with him and I'm still sucking on the sugar tit. I'll talk with him. You'd have it even easier than I did. Aunt Ellen's not going to be going out to dinner anytime soon, she'll probably have a full-time nurse at home, and you could just sit upstairs and work on your stuff.”

Ralph explained that he would be doing this favor for Nathan because he could not help but see him as a kindred spirit. Both of them were artists and both needed time to work and did not want to have to worry about money. Although Nathan suspected that Ralph's motivations for wanting Nathan to replace him were more complicated, he nevertheless felt grateful to him. They both drank and watched a slim gazelle of a girl swing at the shuttlecock and miss entirely.

“How's your badminton game?” Ralph asked.

“About as good as my polo game.”

“Have you ever played?”

“Every once in a while. When I was in third grade, I was playing barefoot in our backyard and impaled my foot on one of the metal spikes they used to hold up the net.”

“Is your foot okay now?”

“It only hurts when I play badminton.”

Ralph said, “We should play. You think you're going to be any worse than them?” Ralph gestured at the couples fecklessly volleying the shuttlecock to one another. One of the male players glanced up at Ralph then returned his attention to the match.

“Don't you feel like we just got here?” Nathan asked.

“I feel like I was born here.”

“Anyway, who knows how long they're going to want to play.”

Minutes later the couples took a break to stroll over near the lawn chairs where they had left their beers. Ralph slapped Nathan on the arm and promptly skipped down the steps. Near one of the poles he crouched down beside an open box and picked out two racquets.