46
Bobby didn’t notice anything amiss, but Susie asked what was wrong, despite my sunglasses covering the mess that was my eye makeup. I sighed. Best to keep it simple. “Mommy got a flat tire on her way to get you. I cried a little.”
“Why did you cry over a flat tire?” Bobby asked.
“Because she didn’t know how to fix it, dummy,” Susie said.
“Hey.” I stopped walking, pulling them to a stop with me. “Don’t call your brother a dummy.”
“Then he shouldn’t ask dumb questions,” she grumbled.
I was going to be in for it when she was a teenager if she was starting the sass at eight.
“Mommy knows how to fix everything,” Bobby said.
I ruffled his hair. “Not everything, sweetheart.”
“Is that Eddie’s car?” he asked, spying it on the street and breaking free to go look for him. “Eddie! Where are you?”
“He’s getting my tire fixed,” I said, wishing desperately that I hadn’t had to bring his car to get the kids.
I wasn’t ready to have a conversation about Eddie.
I wasn’t sure I ever would be after what he had said.
A lump rose up in my throat, but I shook it off.
I would not cry in front of the kids again.
They saw enough tears when Harry died. Today, I would be strong for them.
Especially because I had to navigate Ruth’s absence as well.
I waited until they were in the car before warning them that Grandma wasn’t at home. “Is she out shopping?” Susie asked.
“No, darling. She went back to her house for the night.”
Both faces in the rearview mirror showed concern.
“But she’s coming back, right?”
“She is,” I said lightly. “She just had to take care of some things, and it was easier to stay there for the night. She’ll probably be back tomorrow.”
“Good,” Susie said.
“I actually kind of like her crunchy lasagna,” Bobby said. “I like the bones in it.”
“Those aren’t bones,” Susie said. “She just doesn’t cook the pasta as long as Mama does.”
“That’s what she tells you ,” Bobby said.
“I was thinking,” I interrupted, before it resorted to name calling again, “how would you feel if I kept working my normal hours this summer and Grandma stayed with you? She could take you to the pool.”
“That could work,” Susie said cautiously. “But you’ll still take us sometimes too, right?”
“Of course. And I don’t work Mondays or afternoons. I just thought that could be a good way for me to keep working and you to spend more time with her.”
The kids seemed amenable to this plan, and we went home.
They did their homework, and I started dinner, all the while keeping an ear out to see when Eddie showed up.
I left the keys in the car largely because I didn’t want to confuse the kids, and we were going to have to address what he had said, but I half hoped he would knock anyway.
Once I had a chicken in the oven, I went to the front window, but Eddie’s car was still there.
We eventually sat down to eat—a strangely somber meal without Ruth. I never expected to miss her presence, but I was jittery and nervous, jumping up at every stray sound. Both children asked what was wrong with me multiple times.
“It’s just taking Eddie a while to get here with the car,” I said. “I hope everything is okay.”
The sound of a car came down our street, and Pepper’s ears perked up (as did mine) when the noise stopped in front of our house. I wiped my mouth and placed my napkin on the table. “That’ll be Eddie,” I said, rising. “I’ll just go thank him.”
If the kids noticed me practically sprinting to the front door, they said nothing.
I stopped at the mirror in the front hall and fluffed my hair.
I was pale, but I had cleaned my face at least. It would have to do.
If he implied I was the right girl when I was a complete mess .
.. well, he wouldn’t be put off by me now.
Taking a deep breath, I flung the door open, and ran smack into Ruth, who was walking inside.
“Ruth!” I exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
She shook her head. “That doctor said my blood work was perfect. The nerve. And that hospital food is somehow even worse than yours. So I told them I was going home.”
“But Dr. Lefkowitz wanted you to stay overnight.”
She waved a hand in the air. “I promised to check back with him in the morning.”
“But I thought—”
“Barbara,” she said warningly. “I’m fine. I don’t need a psychologist either.” She sniffed the air. “On second thought, maybe I should have just eaten the hospital food.”
I let out an exasperated breath. “It’s rosemary chicken. I’ll fix you a plate.”
“Oh,” she said. “You need to pay the cabdriver first.”
She walked past me to the dining room, where she held out her arms. “Grandma is back,” she announced as the children jumped up to hug her as if she had been gone a year instead of a few hours.
I shook my head, holding up a finger at the waiting cabbie to indicate I needed to get my wallet. Then I went to my purse and got money to pay him. She was never going to change. And sometimes that was okay.
I was washing up from dinner when I heard a car door shut over the sound of running water.
Wiping my hands on the dish towel, I went dashing back to the front window.
Eddie was looking in his car to see if the keys were there.
His shoulders drooped slightly, and he began to walk up the front steps, my keys in hand.
I opened the door and he startled. For what felt like a long time, neither of us said anything.
My mouth opened, and “Eddie! Barbara, aren’t you going to invite him in?” came from somewhere.
Ruth stood behind me, a hand on her hip.
“I—would you like to come in?” I asked, not sure that either of us wanted that.
“I ... uh ... I should probably be going,” he stammered out.
“Whatever is wrong with the two of you?” Ruth asked, just as Bobby came barreling past her.
“Eddie! Did you bring me anything?”
Eddie’s face dropped even further. “I’m sorry, champ. I didn’t tonight. Just your mom’s car.”
“That’s okay,” Bobby said. “We rode home in your car today.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Ruth said, suppressing a smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in? I was just getting the kids their dessert.” She leaned forward, whispering loudly. “They’re still hungry. The chicken was awfully dry.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I said. “It was not dry.”
“Only a little,” Bobby said.
I threw my hands up. “I give up,” I said. “Eddie, would you like some dessert?”
“I should get back to the store before it closes,” he said, looking as though he’d like to do anything but.
“I’ll walk you to the car,” I said.
“You don’t have to.”
“I’ll just be a minute,” I told Ruth and the kids. “Go eat your dessert.” I pulled the door firmly shut behind me.
Then it was just the two of us facing each other in the spring twilight. “Thank you,” I said. “For today. For every day, really.”
He nodded. “I’m happy to help. I keep telling you that.”
“Yes, but this was—” I was going to say “above and beyond.” But the reality was that everything he had done in these last two years had been above and beyond. “Thank you.”
Eddie swallowed. “If you don’t want to see me when you do your grocery shopping, I can stay in the back while you’re there Monday.”
“Please don’t.”
He looked at me plaintively. “I don’t want to make you feel awkward. I shouldn’t have said anything earlier.”
It did change everything—but only if we let it. I didn’t know what I wanted—yes, I had felt ... something more than friendship that night when he fixed the leaking bathtub. But was I capable of more? Did I even want to be?
I didn’t know. And I hated not knowing. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t have done for Eddie.
I loved him—I just didn’t know if I loved him romantically.
I didn’t know if I could ever love anyone romantically again.
My heart felt like a piece of Swiss cheese, and I worried that he would fall right through one of the holes.
All I did know was that I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Eddie’s friendship.
So much so that I wasn’t willing to risk it by attempting more.
“I want—” I stopped. “I just.” No. “I’m sorry,” I said finally, regretting the words even as they came out of my mouth.
“Can’t we—can’t we just pretend you didn’t? ”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, and my heart splintered even further. How long had he been pretending he didn’t feel that way? I thought of the way he looked at me that had made my knees go all wobbly back in college. How long had I been ignoring what was right in front of me because I didn’t want to see it?
He should move on and find a girl without the baggage I came with. But why did my heart drop at the thought of that too?
He took a step toward his car, but I wrapped my arms around him in a hug, which lingered. He pulled back to look at me, and our faces moved closer together, my concerns lost in the feel of his embrace until—
“Mommy!” Bobby’s voice called from the doorway. “Grandma can’t find the Hershey’s syrup. Do you know where it is?”
I shook myself out of Eddie’s arms, all too aware that my chest was rising and falling heavily with the struggle to breathe. “Coming,” I said huskily. I turned back to Eddie. “I—”
“Go,” he said. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”
I patted his arm—a terrible consolation—and went to the door, glancing over my shoulder as he watched me walk away.
Bobby was waiting by the door. “It’s in the refrigerator, on the door,” I said, heading toward the kitchen. “You couldn’t find this?” I asked Ruth, plucking the yellow can from the spot where it always resided.
“Go back to the table,” she told Bobby, who did as she asked.
“I could find it just fine,” she said with her eyebrows raised. “But I was watching out the window and didn’t think you wanted the whole neighborhood seeing what I was seeing.”
“Two friends hugging after one rescued the other when she had a flat tire and needed to pick up her kids?”
Ruth eyed me knowingly. “If that’s what you want to call it,” she said. She took the Hershey’s syrup from my hand and dumped a small lake of it into each bowl of ice cream. No one was going to accuse dessert of being dry at least.