I’ll always love Charles because, as soon as he turned eighteen, he got himself a job, and he went to court and tried to get me back, out of my latest foster home, bless his heart. He didn’t win, but I’ll tell you what, I’ll never forget that.
Phillip turned his head to look down at me, as he said slowly, “Hi, Diana.” Then the best thing in the world happened: he moved his hand on top of mine. Some days he wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t talk to me, would back away if I tried to lay a finger on him. But not today. Today he put his hand, pale from years without the sun, on my tanned one, and I squeezed it quickly as he put it back in his lap. I looked up into his green eyes, just the same as mine. Irish twins. Irish eyes too. When I looked in his, I was looking into my own. I think that’s what got me most. But while my face was starting to line around the eyes and mouth from smoking and stress and too little sunscreen, his was as smooth and unlined as a child’s.
I cleared my throat and stood up and said, “Buddy, that hair looks like a squirrel tail on a windy day.” I got a comb out of my purse and fixed his thick chestnut hair for a few minutes longer than it took to get it straight because I thought it must feel good to have somebody take care of you. I knew it’d feel good if somebody’d take care of me. He didn’t try to stop me. Just like me, he had a few grays at the roots, but nothing to speak of, nothing noticeable enough to give away his real age.
I sat down in the chair beside my brother. “I’m never going to leave you, Phillip,” I said. “Not ever.” And then I said the thing I said every time I visited, the one I wondered if he knew,the one I wondered if he believed: “I’m going to get you out of here one day. And me and you, we’re going to be a family again. The way we were supposed to be.”
The promise made me happy, but it made me sad too. Because I’d had dreams, big ones. I’d known real love and had high hopes for a family of my own. But now, broke and alone and past my fortieth birthday, I had to face the fact that my brothers and sister were all the family I was ever going to have.
I can’t tell you why I drove from Cape Nursing to Gray Howard’s house. It’s not like me. I’m the kind of girl who stands real still in the background and doesn’t make too much noise so nobody’ll notice she’s there. But when I saw Gray’s address on the outside of that envelope at Meds and More, I’d realized that I used to clean that house way back before she lived there—way back when I cleaned houses. It made fire burn in me. I’d done nothing but work my tail off my entire life. I would bet my last dollar that she’d never had to work for anything.
I didn’t have a plan, really. I didn’t have any money, anyplace to stay, and now I didn’t have anything to do. So I guess I thought I’d just drive by, maybe get a nice look at her big house on the water, its cedar shakes and perfect painted shutters and pretty flower boxes filled with yellow and white blooms. And I could think how ironic it was that she had everything, I had nothing, and she’d managed to take away the one thing I had.
I lit a cigarette. My last one. I guessed it’d be easier to quitnow that I didn’t have cigarette money anyway. On the bright side, my tooth felt better.
I sat on her front steps, feeling beads of sweat forming on my back. I hoped they wouldn’t show through my T-shirt. There was a nice breeze over here on the water, but, sitting in the full sun like I was, it was still hotter than the hinges of hell. But I needed vitamin D and fresh air. They were good for me and the right price: free. Still smoking away, I started thinking about what I would say when Gray got home.You walk around here in your big, rich house with the million-dollar view, and you don’t even think about the people you’re hurting. You don’t give a damn about anybody but yourself and what you want and how you feel. You just sit over here on your high horse and don’t even think about the little people like me.
She’d probably call the police.Then at least I’ll have a cell to spend the night in,I thought. Oh Lord. I really was spiraling now.
This is why people have kids. Then they have somewhere to stay the night when they leave their boyfriend. Although my kids probably would’ve been no good and wouldn’t have jobs or anyplace to stay because they’d be half Harry’s DNA. Then I’d be struggling to look after them too. Sometimes, on your own isn’t the worst way to be. I got a familiar pain way down in my belly, knowing that I couldn’t have had a baby even if I wanted to.
Gray’s white convertible, top down, pulled into the concrete driveway, and I rolled my eyes. She was yammering away on her phone. “I know, Dad, and I’m so sorry, but I have somuch work to do today. I promise we’ll do it next week.” She sighed loudly. “Dad, I know. I get it. But he’s my kid, not a chess piece.…” Pause. “He’s taking the kid to Europe, not enrolling him in Al Qaeda training.” Sigh. “I know I’m his mother, but Greg’s his father, and while I think he is the scum of the earth as a human, he’s a decent dad. I think it’s only fair to Wagner.…” She got out of the car, paused, and leaned over the door, looking like she was stretching out her hamstrings. “Yes, Dad, I know. My attorney has informed me of that.” She laughed ironically. “And you thinkIdon’t want to save my company? I put myself through grad school with that company. I bought our houses and our cars with that company. That company was my first baby. Trust me, if anyone wants to save it, it’s me.” She paused one more time, then said, “Hello, hello, I can’t hear you. I think I’m losing—” Then she ended the call with an exaggerated click.
Still standing in the driveway, Gray let out a tight-lipped, low, frustrated groan.
It was kind of funny because I’d pictured her having this perfect life. Knowing that she really didn’t, I sort of felt less mad. “That yell there for your husband or your daddy?”
She let out an actual scream that time.
I looked at her, glued to my spot, and crossed my arms. So she had some problems, but I hadproblems. As in, I was getting hungry for a dinner that might never come.
She looked confused at first and then, putting two and two together, said, “Oh my gosh. Are you here for the release? I can go get it right now—”
“That ship has sailed, sweetie pie,” I said as I crushed the butt of my cigarette with my flip-flop.
“What do you mean?”
Gray walked toward me, her bare feet leaving prints in the grass. Her toenails were perfectly shaped and shiny with no polish. I curled my own toes to hide them. My red polish was chipped and fading, and you couldn’t see it much, but underneath it my nails were yellow in places with some white spots. I could never have let them be bare like that. It was one more way she was better.
“Mr. Marcus fired me for not getting that release.” So, no. That wasn’t technically true. He’d fired me because all the photos I developed sucked, and we both knew that wasn’t changing anytime soon. But making him look bad in front of a woman who anyone with eyes could see he had the hots for had been the final straw. No matter how you sliced it, Gray Howard was the reason I no longer had a job.
She caught her breath and put her hand up to her mouth. “No. You’re kidding me. Oh my gosh.” She sat down beside me on the brick step—not too close—putting her elbows on her knees like a kid. “Well, listen, I know Bill really well, so I’ll go down and talk to him and get him to give you your job back.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work.”
“I’ll just take him the release and explain that I didn’t give you a choice.”
I nodded, but I knew that the chances of him giving me my job back were slim to none. But now that I had Gray on the hook, now that she felt responsible for all this, I knew I couldsqueeze something out of her guilt. I looked back at her big house again. If she couldn’t get me my job back, well, she could at least get me another one.
I’m not proud of it. But I’m a girl who grew up with nothing. I know how to manipulate people. I know how to work the system. It’s the only way to survive sometimes. I said, making my voice shake the slightest bit, “I had to move out of my boyfriend’s house this morning because he—”
She gasped. “Oh my God. Is that what’s wrong with your face? Did he hit you?”
I put my hand up to my swollen jaw. I put on my best sad face and looked nervously down at the ground. “I don’t want to talk about it.” There. I hadn’t lied, per se.
She gasped again, and I could see her eyes softening. I knew I had to make a connection with her now to seal the deal. “Having a hard time with your daddy?”
She shook her head. “I love him to death, but ever since my mom died, it’s like he doesn’t know how to talk to me. Sometimes he’s way too distant, and other times the man needs to butt out.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I’m not five years old. It’smydivorce.Mykid.” She laughed. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I have no idea why I’m telling you all this. Why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll go talk to Bill and see what we can do about making this right.”
