The Watchers (12 page)

“What are you doing?” she asked taking off
her shoes slowly, her sunny face worried.

“Sitting at the table.”

Her eyes narrowed at my
response.
I recognize that look! She’s met
a boy! Wait, can she hear this?

“Yes, she can,” I said tartly.

“Well?” she demanded, opening the
refrigerator to get a drink.

“I’m going to call Alex,” I told her.

“Why?”

“So you can’t ask me any more questions.”

Cheater! I’m glad she’s
found Alex. Sam wouldn’t raise his kid wrong.
A vision
of her at the office, at her desk, floated through my head. Sam
walked up, and they started talking. No, it was beyond talking, it
was flirting. Then the vision changed, and I knew I was witnessing
a daydream.

“Mom! Rated R!” I said to stop her from going
any further.

Her eyes flashed to mine, and she blushed. “I
can’t control what I think!”

“I know, but still…there are some things your
children shouldn’t see…”

She blushed again and undid her hair, so she
could hide her face. The light bounced off her brown hair, and I
saw the highlights of red that I always coveted.

“You like him, then? Alex’s dad?”

Her pale face uncomfortable, she said, “Why
don’t you go call Alex?”

I stood and started out of the kitchen. “I
think I will. And I think I’ll invite them both over for dinner
next week.”

She followed me down the hall. “You
wouldn’t!” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because…just because.”

“Mom, you haven’t been on a date since I was
born. You like him. Sounds like he likes you. This way it won’t be
awkward, and we can disguise it as something else if it goes
monumentally wrong.”

“I don’t know, Clare. I mean, I work for
him…I’ve known him since I was little and everything, but if it
goes sour, I don’t know if he would be forgiving enough to let me
keep my job.”

I paused on the bottom stair, thinking over
her words. I turned and brushed back a strand of hair which had
fallen across her face, obscuring her eyes. I knew I was about to
cross a boundary, but I didn’t care, it had to be said.

“That’s not what’s worrying you. I know that
you think about my father all the time, but you can’t keep waiting
for him to come back. He’s not coming back. You need someone to
make you feel like you’re the most important person on the planet.
That’s what dating is about. I honestly think Sam would do that for
you.”

“You make me feel important,” she
answered.

“Not in the way you really need.” I touched
her face then started back up the stairs. “You only get one shot at
this life, Mom, and you might as well live while you’re alive.” I
paused again then turned back with a wicked smirk. “Plus, you need
to sex up.”

“Clare! Watch your mouth!”

I grinned. “How does next Wednesday
sound?”

She stared up at me with wide eyes but didn’t
answer. I nodded at the hopeful tenor of her thoughts. “I’ll take
that to mean it sounds fine.”

“Clare?” she called before I could slip
away. “I know your father isn’t coming back. I’ve known that for a
long time. It’s just that the thought of dating, of letting anyone
that close again….”
Terrifies
me.

“What’s that thing you’re always telling me?”
I asked.

“Dogs can’t look up?”

“No, the other thing.”

She smiled. “If you let fear rule you, you
miss the moments of life that count.”

“Something like that, yeah.”

She rolled her eyes at me, getting the
message, hating I was turning her words back on her.

“I’m going to order a pizza and watch a scary
movie. Come back down after your phone call,” she pointed a finger
at me dangerously, “but only if you leave your dating advice
upstairs.”

“Done,” I agreed.

Alex was ecstatic about the idea of playing
cupid, falling in line with my plan immediately. We made all the
arrangements then spent some time talking about school. After my
phone call, I went downstairs to find the pizza had gotten cold,
and Ellen was well into her movie. I took a slice of the cheese and
spinach and joined her in the living room where dead bodies and
gore were piling up on the TV screen. As I sat, she looked over
from where she had cocooned herself in a blanket to ward off any
psychopathic, chainsaw wielding murderers who might be nearby.

“I’m going to go into town tomorrow with
Donna, do you want to come? We’re leaving around ten thirty.”

Donna was an old friend, also the principal
of my school, who Ellen had recently started spending girl time
with. I knew they were going shopping or something else equally
dreadful. I frowned at her. What were the chances of her leaving
thirty minutes before I was supposed to meet Daniel? Was it
coincidence? I brushed the strange feeling away.

“No,” I said, not looking at her, “I have
plans.”

“With Alex?”

“Um.” Sometimes my superpower didn’t feel too
super.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Are your plans with this
boy I’m not allowed to mention?”

I turned to her, wanting to explain suddenly.
“He’s just a friend, Mom. He’s offered to show me some things about
the car, so we don’t have to keep taking it to the mechanic. But
that’s all, I swear.”

Yeah..
.
right.
“All right. I’ll have Donna pick me up, so that you and
mystery man can have the car to bond over.”

“You’re awesome.”

“I know.” She smirked as she started on her
fourth slice of pizza, her eyes returning to the gore on the
television.

*

I sat down in the small wooden chair in the
kitchen. Then, I stood again, too full of nervous energy to stay
seated for long. I paced the length of the kitchen, checking the
clock every five seconds or so, feeling ridiculous. Ellen had left,
leaving me to anxiously anticipate Daniel’s arrival by myself. She
had teased me before she left, her smug smile spelling payback for
inviting Sam over. I sat back down again. Then I stood.

What would Daniel and I talk about? Would
conversation be as easy as it was before? Would he be freaked out I
had asked him over so soon? I sat down again. He’d been the one to
volunteer teaching me – did that mean he really did want to be my
friend? A loud knock came from the front door, and I jumped. I
looked at the clock to be sure. He still had fifteen minutes. Was
he early? Or was it someone else? I ran down the hall to find
out.

I opened the door, trying to calm my racing
heart and hopeful thoughts. Daniel grinned at me, leaning against
the door frame casually. He was wearing a pair of jeans with holes
in the knees and a simple grey shirt – work clothes. I smiled at
him, glad he had come.

“I was thinking,” he said as soon as he saw
me.

“I’m proud for you.”

I stepped around him and out onto to the
porch, noticing there wasn’t a hint of winter breeze. The sun
beating down on the porch actually felt good. The long sleeve shirt
and old blue jeans I had thrown on suddenly felt too hot. Had
someone stolen winter?

“I was thinking you owe me for doing this,”
Daniel continued.

“Is it really ‘friend-like’ to extort someone
for a favor?”

“Yes.” He circled around me and opened the
screen-door for me. “In return for helping you grasp the mystery of
all things car, I’d like to hear you play a song.”

I stopped walking. “Well, this was nice, glad
you could drop by.”

“Come on! What harm could it do?”

“Tons.”

“Please?” He smiled the smile I had seen him
use on the girls at school when he was trying to get his way. I
crossed my arms defensively.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

I looked at our brown grass, so I wouldn’t
have to look him in the eyes and be tempted to give in.

“Use your charm smile on me. I don’t like it.
I know you’re used to getting your way when you use it, but it
won’t work on me.”

I peeked up at him to see if he had put it
away. He had. In its place he wore a funny expression as if I’d
caught him doing something bad again. “You’re the first person to
notice that.”

“Yeah, well, stop. You can use it on the
others, but not on me.”

“But asking you to do something doesn’t work
either!”

“Thems the breaks, huh?” I said, swerving
around him.

“Please?” he begged again. He caught up to me
and tried to assault me with the green pools of light he called
eyes. He wasn’t trying to force me now. He was really asking. “Call
it a friendly favor.”

“You can call it whatever you want, but it’s
not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“What if I suck? What if I’m not as good as
your expectations? What if you think I’m the worst thing since the
90s?”

He started laughing at my comparison. “I
promise to withhold judgment.”

“That is impossible to promise.”

His cocked his head to the side. “Why are you
so definitive when it comes to things like that? Like you know
what’s possible for people to think or not think?”

I shifted nervously and looked away. As I
did, I spotted a black Audi parked behind the wagon. Eager to
change the subject, I pointed at it. “Is that yours?”

His eyes were sparkling strangely, but he
allowed the change of subject with good grace. “Yep. It was a
birthday present.”

“Some birthday present,” I said,
impressed.

I couldn’t imagine being able to buy somebody
a whole car for their birthday. Maybe a cup holder if I saved my
money.

“You’re loaded, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Yes,” he admitted.

I had thought as much from the hints from
others, but his confirmation stung. What did he know about saving
every penny just to have food next month? What did he know about
picking up the pieces of his life every six months or so, because
his mom had lost her job, or simply felt it was time to move on to
avoid the unsavory characters of my world? We were too different.
He would never understand the chaos of my world. It made me
sad.

He noticed my expression. “You’re not going
to judge me for that too, are you? I can’t help it, you know. It’s
my parents’ money, not mine.”

“That’s what rich kids say,” I said. “But no,
I won’t judge you for that. I’m done doing that to you.”

I opened the driver’s side door of the wagon
and popped open the hood. In comparison to the sleek Audi, it
looked like someone had spat it out of a garbage compactor after
running it over with a tractor on ugly day.

“Thanks.” He looked up at the cloudless sky.
“I’ve arranged for there to be pleasant weather for our lesson, but
I think we should start if I’m going to get anything through that
thick skull of yours.”

“You arranged the weather? What? Did you have
a conversation with God or something?”

He smiled and leaned forward, his midnight
hair splashing across his pale forehead. My fingers twitched with
the impulse to brush the hair back so that it wasn’t obscuring his
face.

“Something like that,” he said with a smile
that hinted at an inside joke. “You see this here? That’s the
alternator and this,” he pointed to another part of the engine, “is
the exhaust manifold…”

He continued listing off parts in a patient
voice. I leaned over the opposite side of the car, listening
carefully, cataloging everything he was telling me. I didn’t want
him to have to tell me twice; a part of me looking for ways to
impress him. I focused on remembering and all my worry of not
knowing what to say fell away as swiftly as the morning.

It was one o’clock before we stopped for
lunch. Daniel heard my stomach rumbling almost as loudly as our old
car and insisted we take a break. I hadn’t been keen to stop, but
he had been pushy and stubborn. He sat at our tiny table while I
assembled a pasta salad.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” I
asked again feeling rude for eating while he wasn’t.

“I ate a late breakfast.”

“You’re just afraid I can’t cook, and you’ll
end up poisoned.”

“That, too.”

I heard a phone beep, and I peeked back at
him from where I was draining my pasta. He pulled out his phone and
pushed a couple of buttons. The message was not a happy one. His
eyes went from playful and happy to shocked and angry in a single
push of a button. The blackness circled for one long moment then
disappeared as he shut his phone with a snap. I sat down opposite
from him with my food. “Is everything okay?” I asked.

“No…” The sound of the door banging against
the wall and quick footsteps down the hall cut off his reluctant
reply.

His reaction was much quicker than mine. He
jumped up at the sound, his chair hitting the linoleum floor with a
loud bang as he found his feet. The tension rippling through him
was palpable, and I realized I was holding my breath. In that
instant I understood something about him; I saw a darkness I hadn’t
seen before. It was a manifestation of the dark I had seen in his
eyes.

After a second which lasted an eternity, he
relaxed and righted the chair he had knocked over. He sat down
quickly and fixed his expression as Alex came running into the
kitchen. He gave me a cautiously apologetic look, but I ignored it.
I was too busy trying to understand his reaction.

Alex looked surprised when she saw Daniel,
but she was too worked up to comment. “It’s terrible! Have you
heard?!” she said as she collapsed into the chair next to me.

“I didn’t know you knew where I lived,” I
said.

“Oh, don’t be silly, everyone knows where you
live.” She paused, a thought occurring to her. “I didn’t mean to
barge in, I just got excited…”

“You’re welcome to barge in any time you
want.”

“Thanks.”