Saving Toby (15 page)

We stayed quietly locked in a long gaze until he leaned
forward and kissed my cheek. It was a soft, undemanding kiss, like a thank you.

We got out of the car, and he handed me my keys.

“So, despite my dad and my need to take things slow, I get
the impression that you really like me.”

With a grin, he swiped his chin with the back of his hand.
“Damn. Am I drooling again?”

Chuckling, I tugged playfully at his shirt. “The fact that
you are deciding to hang around, be patient and put up with a lot more ‘issues’
than you normally would with other girls … well, it kind of gives you away.”

“You’re so smart. You’ve got me all figured out.” He stroked
my cheek and then pressed a soft kiss on my mouth.

“Yes, Claudia Chiametti. I really like you. I like your
laugh, the way you say my name, and even the way you squirm when you’re
excited. Too many things to name. I’ll just say, I like everything about you
and leave it at that.”

I all but floated through my front door. I even smiled at my
father who was sitting in the living room, waiting up for me.

He eyed me strangely.

“Is that the same dress you were wearing when you left the
house?” he asked.

I touched my chest. Oops.

“Um, yes,” I replied, deciding I would not feel guilty about
it.

“Don’t wear it again. It’s far too revealing.”

Insulted, I put my hands on my hips. “What does it reveal?
That I’m a full-grown woman? I feel beautiful in it, and if I want to, I will
wear it again.”

By his expression, I could see Dad was disappointed. “I
don’t know my own daughter anymore,” he said stiffly, and then got up and went
to bed.

Dad’s words injured me, as he knew they would, and I went up
to my room with a little less bounce in my step. Yet, despite my father’s
disapproval, the date had gone so well. Even the run-in with Toby’s friends
hadn’t detracted from it. I loved that he had asked me to dance. Had sung in my
ear. I would never hear that song again without thinking of Toby and this
night.

Somewhere, nagging in the back of my mind, I knew we still
weren’t a perfect fit, but I was way too far gone to care. For maybe the first
time in my tediously planned life, I wanted something that didn’t make complete
sense.

I admired myself in the dress one more time. I never even
thought I knew how to do sexy. Turning and studying my profile in my dresser
mirror, I remembered Toby’s eyes on me.

For the first time, I was acutely conscious of my
femininity. Toby was the first guy who dared to touch me so sexually. His
unflagging interest in physical exploits should have scared me, but instead,
being the object of his desire left me feeling powerful. I could barely wait to
be with him again.

My father was just going to have to realize his baby was not
such a baby after all.

20. Claudia

After that first date, our lives fell together seamlessly.
Mrs. Faye’s health was the forefront of both of our concerns. We teamed up,
keeping her company, doing jigsaw puzzles on the kitchen table, watching
television, and barbequing out on the back deck.

In the beginning of June, I switched my hours around at
Sterling, working a few weekdays and freeing the weekends. The rest of my time
I divided between seeing April and being with Toby. Dario and April often
joined us, and we all went out together, spending a day at the beach or heading
to one of the multiplex theaters to see the latest blockbuster.

Mrs. Faye was on the upswing after her last radiation
treatment, and she swore that soon we would not have to babysit her anymore. I
assured her I was happy to be there. Being at the Faye house was like having a
home away from home—it was comfortable and I always felt welcome.

It didn’t hurt that the gorgeous guy who lived there had a
thing for me.

Stopping by on a Sunday afternoon, I found Toby and Mrs.
Faye sunning out on the back deck. Toby was shirtless and barefoot, wearing
only a faded pair of light blue board shorts that hung low on his hips. With a
guitar on his lap, he played and sang while Mrs. Faye lay on her chaise lounge,
her eyes closed and a contented look on her face.

Unnoticed, I stayed behind the closed screen door for a few
moments to listen to him play and admire the view. My boyfriend was an
impressive sight sitting there, half-naked, soaking up the sun. To look at him,
there was nothing that said ‘urbane.’ But he was kind and thoughtful—a
combination of gentleness, charisma and brawn that was all so very appealing.

Even now, his tanned, muscular shoulders and chest charged
my senses. I drank him in, knowing how warm and hard to the touch his
sun-warmed chest would be. Over the last few weeks, as our relationship became
more sure-footed, our kisses became more heated and our touches more bold. I’d
had moments of unrestrained pleasure, touching and feeling those muscles with
both my hands and mouth.

I had never been in love before, but I was beginning to
understand how it happened to people. When Toby came home after work, I grew
flustered by just the sound of his work boots inside the house. He would be
excited, too. I could tell. His mouth tipped upwards in that cute, mischievous
way of his. An undeniable magnetism drew us together, and we would press into
each other to hug and touch until our mouths joined. Our kisses were addicting,
neither of us wanting to stop, but each time, struggling to pull away, he
begged me to let him go so he could shower and get clean for me. Eventually, I
would release him waiting impatiently for him to come back to me.

There were times when all I wanted to do was to watch him.
But, oh, the never-ending need to touch him, even just casually, was
particularly distracting. I was dumbstruck to think I was having my first, true
romance with Toby Faye. How could I ever know I would feel this way?

Head bent, Toby concentrated, his capable fingers strumming
the chords and creating beautiful music. He sang along with the melody, his
singing voice in perfect pitch with the unfamiliar song. The piece was slow,
and it appeared that he was singing his mother a love song. I was moved by the
scene before me.

Once Toby saw me though, he stopped playing.

“Hey,” he smiled. Forced out of my hiding spot, I stepped
out onto the back deck. Mrs. Faye lifted a hand to wave at me.

Guitar pick in his hand, Toby reached over, snagged a belt
loop on my jeans shorts and drew me to him. Laying my hands upon his shoulders
to steady myself, I reveled in the heat of his skin, as hot as I had imagined.
He planted a quick kiss on my lips and released me. I enjoyed the natural ease
in which he kissed me in front of his mother. I settled down next to Mrs. Faye
on the lounge chair and began playing with her yellow headscarf. Though her
hair was growing back in, it was thin. She still needed to protect her scalp
from the sun.

“That was pretty. Did you write it?” I asked him.

“No. John Lennon did,” he said. “He wrote it for his
mother.”

“I like that,” Mrs. Faye said. “I like when I hear about
celebrities honoring their mothers. Because, really, where would anyone be
without their mother?”

Toby shrugged. “Unborn?”

I giggled while Mrs. Faye pretended to disapprove of his
sarcasm. Then she asked him to play something else.

Toby bowed his head over the guitar, and I heard the
familiar sweet notes of “Something.” Our song now. With a voice deep and sure,
he smiled his alluring grin at me as he sang.

After a month of his sexy, sometimes sly and often comical
innuendos, I was still learning how to handle them without turning three shades
of red. I smiled coyly at him, making sure he knew I appreciated his choice of
song.

* * *

Toby started to gripe about his job at the electronics store
more and more each week. His boss, Abe Bernbaum, seemed to be pushing Toby’s
buttons. We talked about other ways he could make a living. He seemed to have a
natural gift for playing guitar, and I had suggested that he could give
lessons. Although it might be good as a side job, it wouldn’t be a viable
source of primary income. He needed benefits, insurance and all.

After some needling from both his mother and me, Toby met
with a career counselor at Suffolk County Community College and signed up for
the first part of a series of computer classes. The classes, which began in the
fall, would result in a certification.

It was a step in the right direction. Everyone needed a
goal, and I was determined to help Toby establish one. And to get serious about
it.

I had my own goals to worry about, too. At home, I remained
respectful. I came in at my usual midnight curfew and did my chores without
complaint, but conversations between Dad and me trickled to a brief give and
take of information. We ate dinner and went to church together, but we barely
talked about things other than those pertaining to household matters. I was
insulted and more than a little hurt that he continued to begrudge Toby, but
since he had quieted down considerably, I wasn’t about to rock the boat.

If my father’s and my discord weren’t upsetting enough, I
appeared to still be on USC’s mailing list. Weekly, informational letters
effectively taunted me with details on orientation and start dates for the
upcoming fall semester. As I glumly tossed another letter into the recycling
bin, I was sure at that very minute, somewhere on the USC campus, someone was
applying a sticky label with my address to yet another envelope. I contemplated
calling the registrar to inform them of the terrible reality—I would not be
attending USC.

21. Toby

I took the turn into the driveway too fast, and the Jeep
bounced roughly to a halt. I threw it into park and yanked the keys from the
ignition. I wanted a cigarette, but would settle for a beer and the possibility
that I could coax Claude somewhere private to help me forget about work. I
didn’t know how much longer I would be able to last with Abe Bernbaum, the
little troll.

It was perfect timing that Claudia happened to be in the
kitchen when I came in. I forgot about the beer and went for her first. I
pushed her back against the counter and kissed her hungrily. She opened her
mouth, easily accepting and meeting my tongue with hers. The edginess of the
day began to fall away; everything inside me brought to a standstill. As our
kisses heated up, my hands edged over her hips, and my gears began to click and
turn in a whole new direction.

She dragged her mouth from mine. “Easy, Romeo. You’re all
fired up.”

“I had another shitty day,” I sighed, and pulled back.

“What did Abe do now?”

I let her go and went to the fridge for a brew. “He double
checked my delivery this morning, and when I offered to lock up tonight, he
wouldn’t give me a key. This job is not nuclear science. I’m capable. Really,
I’m over-fucking-qualified, but he doesn’t trust me. Cocksucker.”

She winced at my language. I popped the top off my bottle
and took a swig of beer.

“Maybe it has something to do with the robbery a few years
ago,” she said.

“What robbery?”

“Some kids broke into the store. My father said besides
stealing the cash from the register, they roughed him up pretty bad.”

“Well, he needs to get over it.”

“I’m sure he’d like to,” she murmured, meeting my eyes. “But
sometimes people have a really hard time facing what scares them the most.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, though I was distracted by her mouth
again. I moved in closer to her, putting my beer on the counter behind her. Without
actually touching her, I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “What’d ya say we
go up to my room for a little one-on-one?”

Claude twitched and let out a little nervous laughter. It
wasn’t the reaction I’d hoped for, and I pulled back to look at her face.

“I have something I want to talk to you about.” She pointed
to the kitchen table, and I looked over my shoulder. Lying there was a creased
piece of loose-leaf paper. I reached over and grabbed it.

I recognized the block-styled handwriting. Gritting my
teeth, I waved it in her face. “What the fuck is this?”

She lowered her chin and eyed me cautiously. “It’s one of
your brother’s letters.”

“Yeah, it is. Why do you have it?”

“I was helping your mother clean her room out. We came
across the letters …”

I wasn’t listening anymore. I charged towards the stairs.
“Where the hell are the rest?”

Julia was standing outside her room, and I thundered up the
steps taking them two at time to get to her. “Ma, where are the rest of those
letters?”

“Honey, calm down. We only opened the one.” Julia tried to
touch me, but I pushed her hands away.

“The two of you have some goddamn nerve. Give me the rest of
them. I want them. Now!”

With a tight face, Julia scrutinized me before she turned
away. Returning with the small stack of letters, she held them back, out of my
reach.

“Toby, I’ll give them to you, but I want you to read them.
Please.”

“When I agreed to take you up for those visits, you promised
you wouldn’t do this! You promised!” I yelled, and punched the hallway wall. The
sheetrock dimpled under my fist. I reached forward and snapped the letters from
her clutch. “Al’s no longer a part of my life. And he’s never going to be a
part of it again. Ever!”

I spun around and almost bulldozed over Claudia behind me.
She jumped out of my way.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, as I stormed down the
hall to Al’s room.

I didn’t answer. Darkness slipped over me and snarled for
release—it had a life of its own and now that it was awake, I had no control
over it. Yanking Al’s old dresser away from the wall, I pitched it off balance.
Wood splintered as it toppled over, crashing loudly to the floor. And still
Darkness wasn’t satisfied, so I sent other objects flying after it.

I could hear Julia and Claudia yammering in the hall. Their conversation
floated around me as if I weren’t actually there.

“Oh, my God! What should we do?”

“Leave him, it’s alright. It’ll blow over.”

Darkness did not retreat until Al’s room looked like a
tsunami hit it.

Winded, bruised and achy, I collapsed on the floor among the
debris.

“Holy cow,” Claude gasped by the door. She and Julia had
been watching me the whole time. Claude’s eyes jumped around nervously, but
Julia, noticeably pale, only shook her head at me and disappeared down the
hallway.

“What a fucking mess,” I mumbled to myself, staring at the
ceiling.

Claudia glanced around the room at my trail of destruction.

“Just a tad extreme,” she snipped. “I mean, seriously, it
was only a letter.”

I was too spent to exert any more energy. I leaned back
against Al’s bed frame.

“I meant it when I told you two I didn’t want anything to do
with Al.”

“And that’s your excuse for this mess?” She raised a
perfectly shaped eyebrow at me. “Your reaction was over-the-top, bordering on
crazy.”

She turned on heel and left me in that detonated minefield.

I felt so stupid, humiliated by my own behavior and
embarrassed that she’d witnessed it.

Julia came in after I had most of the furniture back in
place. Stepping inside, she picked up Al’s old alarm clock and an almost empty
bottle of cologne and placed them on the dresser.

“Stop. I’ll do it,” I told her.

“I’m used to your temper, but others aren’t,” she said. “It
can scare people.”

“Claude’s not scared. She’s pissed,” I said.

She moved to the doorway. “You need to learn how to calm
yourself down before things get out of hand. Maybe you should go back to
church. Ask God to help guide you.”

I snorted. “Ma, if you’d just let the Al thing go, this
would have never happened.”

“Is it so wrong to want my boys to get along? Is it wrong to
forgive him just because you fought years ago?”

I closed my eyes and willed myself not to let her stir me
up, again. It was probably my own fault for keeping it from her—for never
telling her how bad it was at times or just how cruel Al could be.

When I didn’t answer, she said, “Well, at the very least,
you should go talk to Claudia. Apologize for behaving this way.”

“Go back to your Bible and stay out of my business,” I
snapped.

Finally, Julia walked away. I set a now cracked framed photo
of Al and Felicia back on the dresser and headed for the stairs.

“Hey,” I said, as I entered the kitchen where Claudia was
cutting up some vegetables over the table. Continuing her task, she ignored me.

“I had a bad day. I let my mood get the best of me.”

Finally, she let her eyes meet mine. “It upset me to see you
caught up in so much anger. It was frightening.”

I leaned my head back and blew out. “Claude, I’m sorry. It’s
just that this thing with my brother… it’s a mess. It’ll never be right,” my
voice cracked and floated away.

“I’m sorry you and your brother don’t get along, but really
it’s no excuse.”

I went behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist.

“Don’t.” Obviously still upset, she tried to shrug me off.

“It won’t happen again, and besides, I’m not the only one at
fault here. You opened that letter without my permission.”

Frowning, she turned around to look up at me. “That’s true,
but you suggested that I could read them on our first date.”

“That was the night you wore that dress. I was in a weakened
state,” I said. “I probably would have agreed to cut my arm off.”

She tried to hold back a smile. “I should have asked. I’m
sorry I didn’t.”

“If I promise to control my temper and behave, can we call a
cease and desist?”

Claudia’s look was so intense it felt like she was studying
me, trying to decipher the many gray areas.

I closed my eyes. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you can see inside me. It makes me all twisted up.”

She sighed, “Okay, I cease and desist.”

When I opened my eyes, a tiny smile had cracked her stern
expression. Relieved at the sight of it, I raised my hands to her face.

“I don’t want you ever to be frightened of me. I would never
hurt you,” I whispered. Pressing my mouth to hers, I felt the tension leave her
body as she answered my kiss with her own.

After a few moments, she pulled back and bit her lip.

“Just so you know, in the letter, your brother said he wants
to see you.”

I took a breath and calmed myself. “See,” I said. “This is
me controlling my anger.”