Spiraling (15 page)

The doorbell rang as I got the plates out of the cupboard for dinner. Mom looked up from mashing potatoes and turned toward me. “Are you expecting someone?” she asked.

“Devon said he might come over,” I answered.

“Devon?” She raised an eyebrow. “The boy from the other day?”

“Yes, Mom.” I sighed.

Setting the plates on the counter, I hurried to answer the door. When I pulled it open Devon stood on the other side. I smiled, stepping into the threshold. He shifted his weight and a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Did you miss me?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.” I set my hand on his chest for balance as I raised onto my toes to kiss him.

“Can you go out?”

“Sure. I just need to tell my mom.” I turned around, surprised to see my mother only a few feet behind me. “Oh. Hi, Mom. Devon and I are going to go out for a while. I’ll be back by ten. Is that okay?”

“No.” Mom shook her head.

“But I already did all my homework,” I said. “And I’ll do my chores when I get home. I promise.”

“This isn’t up for debate,” Mom replied. “If you’d like to ask your friend to stay for dinner, that would be fine, but you aren’t going out tonight. You have school in the morning.”

“But, Mom—”

“You heard me,” she said.

I turned back to Devon. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

“If you want me to,” he answered. “If not, I can go.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to,” I retorted without meaning to.

He hesitated before he stepped inside. I waited until he’d wiped his boots on the rug and stood to the side before I closed the door behind him.

“How are you this evening, Devon?” Mom asked.

Her fake courtesy annoyed me. She hadn’t had a good word to say about Devon since she met him. According to her, he was a waste of my time and would never amount to anything.

“I’m fine, ma’am,” Devon answered. “And yourself?”

“Good,” Mom replied.

“You can hang up your jacket over there,” I said, pointing to the coat tree.

Devon pulled off his leather jacket and hung it next to mine. Underneath he wore a t-shirt with the hardware store’s logo on it over a black thermal shirt. The bright construction cone orange was a drastic change from the various shades of black and gray that made up his usual wardrobe.

“Bronson’s Hardware?” Mom raised an eyebrow. “I thought Tori said you worked at Lancaster’s.”

“I do,” Devon said.

“Aren’t you in high school?” Mom asked.

“Yeah.” Devon nodded.

Mom furrowed her brow. “And you have
two
jobs?”

“Yes, Ma’am. It’s just temporary, though. Until I work out my notice at Lancaster’s.”

“That’s very responsible of you,” Mom said. She started to say something else, but the oven timer interrupted her. Turning toward me, she waved toward the kitchen. “Tori, could you get dinner, please?”

“Sure,” I answered.

“Do you need any help?” Devon offered.

“That’d be great,” I replied.

Mom watched us as we walked around her into the kitchen. I knew she’d told me to get dinner so that she could interrogate Devon without me around. She’d been asking questions about him and I hadn’t known all the answers. Even though we’d been going out over a month, there were a lot of things I didn’t know about him. For my mom that meant Devon was secretive and untrustworthy. In reality, I just hadn’t thought to ask a lot of things she wanted to know.

“I can get that.” Devon grabbed the potholders as I opened the oven.

“That’s okay.” I chuckled. “After what happened the other night, you should probably just stay away from ovens.” I took the potholders, pulled the meatloaf out of the oven, and set the pan on the top of the stove. “Or anything else that’s hot.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t stand so close to you then.” He smirked.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” I smiled, closing the oven door.

Without warning, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

“Victoria Ann!” Mom shouted.

Devon let me go and we both turned toward the kitchen door. Mom stood in the opening with her arms folded across her chest, tapping her foot on the tile floor and scowling at us. Devon stepped back and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he looked at me, knit his brow, and mouthed, “Victoria?”

“Did you want me to do anything else with the potatoes?” I asked in an attempt to distract both Devon and my mother.

“No,” Mom said bluntly. “Why don’t you go get your brother for dinner?”

“Ok.” I nodded.

Mom turned to Devon as I walked out of the kitchen. As she started talking, I felt my heart drop. Aside from the things I didn’t know, I’d lied to her about some things I didn’t think she’d like. If she asked Devon about them, I wasn’t sure how he’d respond. Once I was clear of the kitchen door, I ran upstairs and knocked on my brother’s door frantically.

“Go away, Twerp,” he yelled over the radio.

“Dinner’s done,” I hollered back.

“I’ll get something later.”

“You might as well come down. James isn’t here.”

The music stopped and he opened the door. “Where is he?”

“Mom said he had to work late or something.”

“Meatloaf?”

“It’s Tuesday, isn’t it? Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans.”

His lip curled in disgust. “Mom didn’t try to cook again, did she?”

“She mashed the potatoes,” I said. “But she didn’t touch the meatloaf.”

“Good.” He stepped out of his room. “I don’t know what she made last week, but it wasn’t meatloaf. It was like trying to eat a block of wood with ketchup on it. Maybe that’s why we always went out to eat before Dad left.”

“We didn’t
always
go out.” I chuckled. “Sometimes we had delivery.”

We laughed as we walked down the stairs. I waited until we were almost all the way down before I told him Devon was there. He wasn’t happy with the news. I didn’t know what had caused the animosity between them, but when we walked into the kitchen, Chris didn’t even try to hide his disdain. He shot Devon a dirty look. Then he pulled out a chair and plopped down roughly.

Devon stood at the end of the bar, watching my brother. Then he reached into the pocket where he kept his cigarettes. When I saw the top of the box, I rushed over and put my hand on his arm.

“Uh-uh,” I whispered, shaking my head and glancing toward my mom.

He took a deep breath and shifted his weight. There might have been a lot of things I didn’t know about him, but I knew when he was agitated. I stared at him for a second, tempted to ask him what my mother had said. She had a bad habit of thinking everyone wanted to hear her opinion.

Walking over to the stove, I transferred the vegetables from the pans to serving dishes. As soon as they were ready, Devon carried them to the table. I told him he didn’t have to, but he did it anyway. Then he walked back to the stove. I cut the last slice of meatloaf and set the knife in the sink.

“Is this ready?” he asked.

“I can get it,” I answered. “You can go ahead and sit down.”

He picked up the platter. “I got it.”

I followed behind him. Candy and Colt ran into the kitchen as he rounded the end of the bar. He had to step back to avoid being run over by the stampeding four-year-olds. As soon as the path was clear, he carried the platter of meatloaf to the table and set it down in the center. Then he stepped back and waited.

“Have a seat,” Chris growled, pushing out James’ chair.

“Thanks,” Devon replied and sat down.

I looked around the table as I carefully popped a green bean into my mouth. My mom watched Devon as if he were about to do circus tricks and I could sense his unease from two chairs away. I wanted to tell her to leave him alone, but I knew it would only make things worse. She didn’t like him and being civil wasn’t in her nature.

“So, Devon,” she said; “what kind of work do your parents do?”

Devon cleared his throat. “I’m not really sure. I live with my sister.”

“That’s right,” Mom replied. “Tori mentioned something about that.” She paused. “What does your sister do?”

“She’s a waitress and bartender,” Devon answered.

“Here in town?” Mom gestured in the direction of Main Street with her fork.

“She works at Trina’s here in town and at JJ’s in Beaumont.”

“Oh.”

Mom momentarily let Devon be, but I could almost hear the next round of questions formulating in her head as she mulled over her potatoes. It seemed like he could sense it, too. He hesitantly took a bite of meatloaf as if he expected her to ask him something as soon as he did.

“Beck and I were going to head over to Larson tomorrow after school,” Chris said before Mom could resume her interrogation. “She needs to pick up some stuff and I told her I’d give her a ride.”

Mom took a deep breath and looked at him. “What’s wrong with
her
car?”

“She doesn’t know,” Chris answered. “The radio kept cutting out the other day and she said it didn’t want to start this morning. Her dad said he’s going to take it to the shop on Friday.”

“That car is always breaking down on her.” Mom shook her head. “I don’t know why Pam and Jerry don’t just buy her a new one.”

“She doesn’t want a new one,” Chris replied. “She likes that old piece of crap.”

“I don’t know why.” Mom sighed.

“Because she’s Beck.” Chris shrugged.

“Do the headlights flicker?” Devon interjected unexpectedly.

Chris leaned forward and scowled at him. “Why does that matter?”

“It might be the alternator,” Devon said. “What kind of car is it?”

“I don’t know,” Chris replied. “Probe or something, I think.”

“Do you know a lot about cars, Devon?” Mom asked.

Devon nodded. “My brother used to run a garage. I worked there for a little while when I was staying with him last year.”

“Are you thinking of being a mechanic?” Mom put her napkin down next to her plate and folded her arms across the edge of the table.

“I don’t know,” Devon answered.

“My first husband liked to tinker with old cars,” Mom said reflectively. “After the kids were born and his business took off, he didn’t really have the time for it, but I remember he had this old truck he was rebuilding. He’d spend hours out in the garage working on that thing.”

Listening to my mom talk about my dad was strange. It was the first time I’d heard her speak affectionately about him since the divorce. She laughed as she recalled stories from when she and my dad were dating.

After everyone had eaten, Mom went into her office and Chris sulked back to his room. Devon helped me clear the table, do the dishes, and get the twins involved in a movie. Then we went out to sit on the porch while he smoked a cigarette.

“Sorry about not being able to go out,” I said.

“It’s okay,” he replied. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure this isn’t exactly how you wanted to spend your night. My mom can be a little much sometimes.”

“She’s fine. A little officious, but I think a lot of moms are.”

“I guess.” I shrugged. I had no idea what he was talking about. There were times when I felt like I needed a dictionary to have a conversation with him.

He took a drag off his cigarette and let the smoke slide through his lips. Then he looked at me. “You don’t have to sit out here if it’s too cold. I’m all right if you want to go back inside.”

“That’s okay. It’s not that cold.”

“I can hear your teeth chattering.”

“I’m okay,” I said, even though my toes were completely numb and my face felt like a freezer-burnt tomato.

Putting his arm around my shoulders, he pulled me closer. The leather on his jacket was cold, but I didn’t complain. I liked being cuddled up beside him. After he’d taken another drag from his cigarette, he smoothed down my hair and kissed the top of my head. Then he put his free hand over my exposed ear. Despite the bitter temperatures, his palm was warm.

He put his cigarette out and stuffed the end into his pocket. Then he brushed his hand across my cheek. When he kissed me, I melted into his arms. I loved the way his lips felt against mine.

The sound of James’ car pulling into the driveway diverted our attention. We scrambled away from each other and turned toward the sound. James got out of his car, scowling as he walked up the sidewalk.

“What the hell’s going on here?” James demanded.

Devon stood up. “Good evening, sir,” he said politely, offering to shake James’ hand. “I’m Devon Shar—”

“I don’t give a damn
who
you are,” James yelled. “You can keep your goddamn hands off my daughter.”

“Yes, sir.” Devon nodded.

James turned to me. “It’s time for
you
to go inside.”