Far from Xanadu (17 page)

“Shane and I need to talk about how and when we’re going to meet.”

I tuned into Jamie. “Are you still on that kick? Get off it.”

Jamie said, “It’s going to happen, Mike. It’s only a matter of time.”

A matter of time, I repeated to myself. For me and Xanadu, it was only a matter of time. I felt it in my bones. Could I wait? I’d have to.

“Why don’t you come over and we’ll rent a movie?” Jamie cut into my thoughts. “It’ll be just like old times.”

Meaning last month. Pre-Shane. “Okay. But no horror. I get enough of that at home.”

“How is Our Little Miss Sveltlana and the lovely Kung Pao?”

“I’ll be there in ten,” I said.

Jamie’s mom met me at the door of their double-wide. Dolores, not Geneviève. Dottie to me and everyone else in town. “Mike,” she said, “you sweetie. Where’ve you been? I’ve missed you.” She almost didn’t let me through the door before crushing me in a hug. I’d missed her too. She smelled like bacon. Dottie always smelled like bacon.

Grandma Dottie’s Gourmet Goodies was the name of Dottie’s home business. Her baked goods were in high demand in all the Suprettes around western Kansas. She packaged her goodies in red-and-white polka-dot boxes with dotted-swiss ribbon. Dottie wasn’t a grandma — she might never be, seeing as how Jamie was an only child — and the gourmet ingredient in her cooking was supposed to be a secret. Right.

The secret was bacon fat. You could smell it clear to River View. It might seem gross, but the truth was bacon fat added a kind of earthy flavor and moistness to Dottie’s cakes and cookies.

The oven timer buzzed and Dottie threw up her hands. “Oops, my lemon bars are done. I think Jamie’s in his room. Jamie, hon,” she called into the back. “Mike’s here.”

I liked Dottie. Loved her, actually. She was a regular mom, more mom to me than mine had ever been. Jamie’s dad was great too. Bill, not Hakeem. He sold hay balers to farmers and ranchers, so he was on the road a lot.

Jamie padded out dressed in his cheerleader sweater and a pleated skirt. He stopped in the alcove separating the kitchen from the living room and twirled in a circle. “How do I look?”

“Stupid,” I said. “Why are you wearing that?”

“We’re selecting our uniforms for next year.” Jamie admired himself in the hallway mirror. “The pants haven’t come in yet, but I wanted to see how the reverse colors looked. Kimberleigh loaned me her skirt.” He did a modified split jump in the cramped space. “What do you think?”

“If you show up at one of my games in a skirt, you’ll find out how accurate my arm is.”

Dottie laughed from the kitchen.

Jamie ignored me. Checking himself out one last time, he said, “Okay, I like it. Give me a sec to change. I picked up a couple of movies at the Suprette.” He thumbed into the living room.

The DVDs were on top of the TV — the big-screen TV that took up half the trailer. I wandered over to see what he’d gotten. The aroma of sugar and lemon and bacon redirected my feet to the kitchen. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. I’d only had a can of SpaghettiOs for dinner.

Dottie was sliding a cake pan into the oven. “Oh, Mike. Good. I’m trying out a new recipe for lemon bars. Don’t tell, but it’s really Emeril’s recipe that I’m enhancing with my own secret ingredient.” She winked at me. “I need a taste tester. Do the honors?”

She had to ask?

She sliced a hunk from a second pan that was cooling on a rack on the counter. As I bit into the lemon bar, she watched intently, index finger pressed to her chin.

“Hmm.” My eyes bulged. The crust was warm and chewy; the tangy lemon filling melted in my mouth. I scored her a ten with spread out fingers on both hands.

Dottie beamed and patted my cheek.

I was savoring another mouthful of lemon lusciousness when Jamie flounced into the kitchen. He hefted himself onto the counter next to me and filched the lemon bar right out of my hand. “What are we going to watch?” he said, chomping into it.

The movies. I hadn’t gotten that far. Dottie scooped up two lemon bars onto the spatula and held them out to us. I took both and headed to the living room.

“Stop! Thief!” Jamie jumped off the counter.

When I saw which movies he’d picked, I groaned. “We’ve seen these a hundred times.” They were
Dumb and Dumber
and
Titanic
.

“Only ninety-nine.” Jamie flopped on the floor and extended his legs out in front of him. “The newest thing I could find was
Mean Girls
, and I hate when art imitates life too closely.”

Blockbuster hadn’t put Coalton on its regular delivery route. We could get newer than
Dumb and Dumber
though. Oh well. I could use a laugh tonight.

About ten minutes into the movie, the phone rang. Jamie bounded to his feet. “BeShanebeShanebeShanebeShane,” he said. He wrenched the cordless off the wall. “Hello? What?” He covered his free ear with a hand. “Oh hi, Dad.” His voice went all monotone.

I remoted down the surround sound on the TV.

“Not much,” Jamie said. “It’s not like I’d ever have a date on a Saturday night. Unless you count Mike.” Jamie stuck out his tongue at me and I sneered.

Dottie and Bill knew Jamie was gay. How could they not? They were cool. No drama when he came out. He didn’t drive, so if they disowned him Jamie wouldn’t get far. He’d probably wind up in the backyard sleeping on his tramp. No, that’d never happen. Anyone in Coalton would take Jamie in. We didn’t have homeless people here.

Plus, if we had discrimination, I wasn’t aware of it. Jamie and I had grown up here. People knew us; they were used to us. I’m sure they gossiped, but it never got back to me. I never, for one day, felt judged or excluded or persecuted in Coalton.

Jamie joked around with his dad on the phone for a while, then handed it off to Dottie. He resumed his spot beside me on the floor. “What’d I miss?”

I just looked at him. A few minutes later, the phone rang again and Dottie answered it. “Jamie, it’s Shane.”

Jamie scrabbled to his feet and lunged for the phone. “Shane, I knew you’d call.” He listened for a long moment, then held his heart. “I know,” he said. “Me too.” Jamie caressed the headset to his ear and headed to his bedroom in back.

They must’ve talked for an hour. The movie was boring. Old jokes. Dottie came in once to ask if I’d like a sandwich, but I declined. It was after nine and she looked ready for bed.

I yawned. So did she.

“Where’s Jamie?” she said.

“Still talking to Shane,” I answered in another yawn.

She twisted her head and smiled down the hall. Her smile was so full, it was like she was pouring out a waterfall of love for Jamie. I wondered if my mom had ever smiled at me that way. If once, in her whole entire life, she had felt a drop of love for me.

Chapter Fifteen

S
he didn’t call me. I figured she was recovering from her Toto time playing cards with the McCalls. I didn’t call her. I didn’t want to know what she was doing at the McCalls with
him
. When I got off work at five, there was one message on the machine. Esther Duffy. I groaned. She said her water heater had rusted out and would I come over.

I sighed long and hard. I guess I had nothing better to do, like return Xanadu’s promised call. Ask her how she planned to make it up to me.

Only one word described Esther Duffy. Old biddy. I guess that’s two words, but they go together. I swear, that lady was born with a burr up her butt. She hated kids. Me and Darryl in particular. She’d storm down to our house and accuse us of stealing her pumpkins or letting her rabbits out of the hutch. I never stole anything from Esther Duffy, or anyone else. Her rabbits were neglected and filthy, so whoever let them out was doing them a favor. I suspected it was Darryl.

I’d forgotten about those rabbits. And Esther Duffy. We hadn’t had any contact with her since she moved to the show homes eight or ten years ago. I wondered how she was enjoying the Tanner boys as neighbors.

Esther met me at the door. “Who are you?” she snarled.

Old biddy. “Mike Szabo. You called me about your water heater?”

Her eyes raked me up and down. “Why are you wearing men’s underwear?”

I fixed on her mean, wrinkly face. “Because I like them.”

We had a staredown. I won. “You look like your dad,” she said.

I didn’t have anything to say to that.

“Come in, then.” She stepped back from the door. “It’s a mess down there.”

Mess? It was a disaster area. Her basement had an inch of water covering the cement slab, pooling around her washer and dryer, the legs of the water heater entirely submerged. “I’m going to have to pump this first,” I thought aloud.

“Do what you need to do.” Esther breathed down my neck on the stair behind me. She smelled like rotten meat. “Your dad installed that water heater. Obviously he did a lousy job.”

I seethed. That had to be ten years ago. Water heaters corrode. They rust. They fall apart, like people. I almost told her, Lady, find someone else for this job. Almost. There
was
no one else, not in Coalton. Besides, I needed to occupy my time. My mind.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” I turned and smiled. “I’ll need to get my equipment out of the truck.”

She let me pass. I got to work.

Dad’s installation was flawless by any professional standards. Standards from ten years ago, though. It wasn’t up to current code, or what I knew of it. I figured since I was here, I’d replace all the electrical, update the flex connector to the gas.

“I’ll need to run back to the shop for the water heater,” I told Esther. She was lucky we had one in stock. Esther was glued to the TV, some home shopping show.

She remoted down the sound. “He did it to her, you know. They did it to each other.”

Was this a soap? It looked like QVC. “I’ll let myself out.”

“She didn’t used to be that big, your mama. She used to be fine. Not petite, mind you. Never small. But she was a nice person. She never was all that social. Didn’t come out much. After her baby died . . .”

We’ve all been through a lot, okay?

Esther sighed. “She was never the same after she lost that baby. And him with his drinking.”

Shut up. I pivoted and charged out the back. Drive, I thought. Just drive. Finish the job and get out of there.

The water heater we had was a brand-new forty-gallon Rheem. I hated to give it to Esther, but what choice did I have? If I ordered one, it’d take time. She was an old lady; she needed hot water. I struggled to maneuver the box onto the hand dolly and up into the truck by myself. But I managed. See, Dad? Who needs you?

Hours later, as I was cleaning up, repacking tools, running a final leak test, Esther wandered downstairs with her checkbook. “What do I owe you?” she asked.

I hadn’t considered a charge. Five dollars didn’t cover the O-ring on a toilet these days.

She said, “Will five hundred do it?”

Five hundred dollars? The water heater was just sitting there, collecting dust. My labor was the only cost. I checked my watch. Nine-thirty. Had I been here that long? Four hours, on a Sunday. “Make it four hundred,” I told Esther. It still felt like too much.

She ripped out her check and handed it to me. “Sometimes,” she said, “there are two people in the world who should never come together. That’s your ma and your pop. Alone, they might’ve made it.

Together? With their addictions?” She shook her head. “They were a toxic combination.”

I just looked at her. “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

I was feeling good when I got to school on Monday. Nothing like a job well done. Four hundred bucks in my bank account. A double circuit at the VFW this morning. I was pumped. First thing I saw when I turned the corner heading for Geometry class was Xanadu.

Oh yeah.

And Bailey. Crap.

He leaned down to kiss her.

My muscles cramped. Luckily, the girls’ room was three steps away. I barreled inside and leaned against the door. Exhale, flex, hold, hold. Control, action, focus.

She wasn’t mine. Not now. Not yet. But someday. Some way. I’d make her love me, the way I loved her.

I’d practically beat the bell tearing out of Miz S’s class. I just couldn’t take it — his turning around and smiling at her every ten seconds; her poking him, passing him notes. I needed sky. Needed out. We were running track this week in gym, thank God. I could sprint laps. Run it off. For an hour, just run.

Perfume swirled up my nose.

I raised my head off my knees.

“What happened to you? You took off before I could even say hello.” She curled cross-legged on the mat in front of me. Her smile faded. “Mike. What is it? Are you okay?” She reached out and touched my knee.

“Just...zoning.” It was too windy and cold today for track. Gym was held indoors. Rope climbing, a totally wasted exercise — exorcise. My muscles didn’t even ache afterward.

She smiled slightly, a sort of half smile, soft smile, which made my bones go rubbery. “I really need to talk to you,” she said in a lowered voice. “Alone. In private.”

“Okay.” I perked up. “We can’t go to the roof though. It’s too windy.”

“Not now. I have Journalism this hour. Did Jamie tell you we have to write a newspaper article for our test? Like, a feature with interviews and sidebars and everything.” She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “I was thinking maybe later. After school?”

I opened my mouth, then shut it.

“You have to work.”

“I could get off.” Which would be hard. Everett needed me to help stock for Coalton Days.

“That’s okay,” Xanadu said. “It isn’t important. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

My heart soared. “I don’t have to go in.”

“Yes, you do.” She tilted her head. “I know you.”

She did. She knew me. I wanted to cover her hand on my knee, take it, press it against my pounding heart, pass the tremors onto her. For some reason though, I was paralyzed. I couldn’t take action. Don’t let go, I prayed. Please, don’t let go.

“Maybe we could ditch one day this week and hang out at your house?” Xanadu arched her eyebrows.

I choked. “I don’t think so.”

Her eyes darkened.

“Not at my house.”