Ryan looked up at her and said, ‘I want to.’
He started again, trying his hardest to get her off.
Christina shifted back away and said, ‘We should really just get going.’
‘You sure?’
‘I can’t now anyway.’
‘I’m really sorry, Chrissy. I promise later I’ll be able to—’
‘It’s okay - really. Just hand me a tissue, will you?’
When Ryan and Christina went downstairs, Al was still gripped, watching the racing channel.
‘Bye, Daddy.’
Distracted, sneering at the TV, Al didn’t answer for a few seconds. Then he said, ‘What?’
‘Ryan’s taking me over to Jake’s.’
‘Oh, right,’ Al said, ‘the party for him.’
‘Yeah, you should go. Ryan’s mother made her great lasagna, and there’s gonna be other great food and music and—’
‘Can’t make it,’ Al said, his gaze shifting back toward the TV.
Christina leaned over and kissed her father on the cheek.
‘Don’t wait up for me, Daddy.’
Christina and Ryan were heading toward the door when Al said, ‘Hey, Ryan.’
‘Yeah?’ Ryan stopped but didn’t look back.
‘You still paint houses, right?’
‘Right,’ Ryan said extending the /sound, as if saying,
Yeah, and what’s it to you?
‘My cousin Arnie’s finishing his basement and’s lookin’ for a painter,’ Al said. ‘You interested?’
‘Tell him to call my boss,’ Ryan said.
‘What’s the name of your company again?’
‘Pay-Less Painting. It’s in the book.’
Ryan and Christina left the house. The late-afternoon sun was bright in Ryan’s eyes, making him squint.
‘Where’re you parked?’
Ryan jutted his chin toward his car up the block, but didn’t say anything.
Ryan went around to the driver-side door and let himself in. Christina opened her own door, making a face because Ryan hadn’t let her into the car first.
‘Sorry,’ Ryan said.
Christina sat down, still looking pissed off, as Ryan started the engine. They pulled out of the spot and drove up the block in silence.
‘What’s wrong?’ Christina asked.
‘Nothing.’ Ryan turned onto Avenue M.
After a few more seconds o silence, Christina said, ‘You’re not still upset about—’
‘No,’ Ryan said quickly.
‘You’re sure? Because I swear it really doesn’t bother me. I mean, I know how much pressure you’re under and—’
‘I’m just sick of your fucking father dissing me all the time.’
‘He wasn’t dissing you.’
‘See? That’s why I can’t tell you what’s wrong. ‘Cause you always get like this - defending him.’
‘But he didn’t do anything wrong.’ ‘How about all that housepainter bullshit? He disses me like that every time I’m over your house.’
‘He was just offering you business.’
‘Bullshit. He knows I don’t own the fucking company. He was just looking for a chance to get a couple licks in.’
‘Licks in about what?’
‘My baseball career falling apart. He thinks it’s a big joke, saying, “You still paint houses, right?” with that big smirk on his face.’
‘I don’t think you’re being fair.’
Ryan rolled his eyes, then shook his hear and bit down on his lower lip in frustration. He should’ve known better than to talk negatively about Al to Christina. Although the guy was a lazy bum and was obviously using Christina for the money she pitched in for bills and to clean up after him like a fucking maid, she couldn’t see any fault in him.
Ryan slowed at the stop sign. A bunch of kids in do-rags passed in front of the car. One of the kids glared through the windshield at Ryan and Christina. Then he said something to his friends and all of the kids laughed, looking back toward Ryan’s car.
Ryan hit the gas and drove on.
‘I’m so sick of this,’ Christina said.
‘You started it, not me,’ Ryan said.
‘I mean all these gangs - not being able to go out at night. You know a lady on my block was raped in her own house last week? I didn’t wanna tell you about it ‘cause I was afraid you might get worried about me. It was one of those home invasions. Two guys just broke into the house, raped her, and stole everything. It’s so scary - I can’t wait to get out of Canarsie.’
‘You can’t run away,’ Ryan said.
‘What’re you talking about?’ Christina said. ‘You said you wanna move to Long Island or Jersey. . . . Now you wanna stay?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Then what’re you saying?’
‘I didn’t say anything.’
Ryan hit the brake at another stop sign and Christina, not wearing her seat belt, jerked forward. She gave Ryan a look, then put on her belt as Ryan drove on.
‘You know, you don’t have to be ashamed of what you do,’ Christina said.
‘Who said I’m ashamed?’
‘I didn’t mean
ashamed
I just.. . I mean, it’s not your fault that you can’t play baseball anymore. A lot of people can’t make it in sports. You just have to move on - find something else you like doing. . . . Besides, it’s not like you’re gonna be working for PayLess forever. You’re gonna start your own business soon, right?’
Ryan didn’t like the sneaky tone in Christina’s voice, as if she were really saying,
You’re not gonna be making ten dollars an hour forever, right?
‘As soon as I can,’ Ryan said.
“Cause I’ve been thinking,’ Christina said. ‘You know how I still have Jake’s engagement ring, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I was just wondering if like, maybe I could, like, you know, sell it. He must’ve paid a fortune for it, and it’s in perfect condition. I could probably get twenty or thirty thousand for it, and then I can give you some money to, like, I don’t know, get your business started.’
‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘Why wouldn’t I?
‘Look, you wanna sell the ring, sell it,’ Ryan said. ‘I don’t need handouts.’
‘I’m just trying to help you.’
‘I don’t need your help, all right?’
‘Listen to you screaming at me,’ Christina said. ‘I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with you.’
Christina grabbed the pack of Camels from on top of the dashboard and took out a cigarette and the lighter that Ryan had stuffed inside. She lit up and took a long drag, looking away.
‘Shit,’ Ryan said. He’d overshot the turnoff onto East Eighty-second Street.
‘So we’ll go around the corner,’ Christina said. ‘What’s the big deal?’
Ryan drove around the corner, and Christina continued to smoke, opening the window slightly to let the fumes out.
‘Look,’ Ryan said, ‘we both know I’m never gonna have the Jake Thomas kind of money. I’m not gonna be able to buy you the big house and fancy jewelry, so if that’s what’s important to you—’
‘That’s not what’s important.’
‘But if it is, I just want you to know I’m not gonna hold you back. I mean, I want you to be happy, so if you change your mind and wanna stay with him—’
‘How can you say that? I don’t care about the money. I want you.’
‘You mean that?’
‘Of course I do.’
They turned off Flatlands onto Eighty-first Street. Ryan steered the car around the police barricades, which were partially blocking the street, but he couldn’t get much farther. There must have been a hundred people near that goddamn welcome-home banner.
Ryan double-parked and cut the engine.
‘I can do this,’ Christina said, trying to psyche herself up.
‘You’re gonna kick ass,’ Ryan said. ‘I promise.’
Christina took a last long drag on her cigarette, then tossed it out the window. Ryan leaned over to kiss her, but she didn’t move at all in his direction, and he knew it was because Jake was close by. This got Ryan a little pissed off, but he did his best not to show it. He rested a hand on her thigh and squeezed it gently, and then they got out of the car.
As they approached the center of the party, Ryan recognized people from the block and the neighborhood, but there were a lot of strangers too. Fans had come with bats, balls, gloves, and other memorabilia that they hoped to get signed, and everyone seemed to be having a great time, eating from plates of plantains, meat patties, Ryan’s mom’s lasagna, and hot dogs and hamburgers, and drinking soda and keg-beer. Beyonce’s ‘Naughty Girl’ was blasting from the big speakers that Jamal, a guy who lived across the street from Ryan, had set up. Ryan nodded at Jamal as he passed, and Jamal acknowledged Ryan by pumping a fist in his direction.
‘Let’s go back,’ Christina said nervously.
‘Don’t worry, it’ll be okay,’ Ryan said.
The crowd got denser and louder as they approached the Thomases’ house. As they wove around people, Ryan kept saying, ‘Coming through, I live here, coming through.’ Finally, through a space in the crowd, Ryan spotted Jake holding court, posing for a picture next to some teenage girl.
Jesus, what an asshole,
Ryan thought. Who did he think he was with those sunglasses and all of that jewelry and that expensive suit? Jake was smiling in his usual phony way, showing off those stupid fake white choppers.
‘Does he see us?’ Christina asked.
She was a few inches shorter than Ryan and couldn’t see Jake yet.
‘Nah,’ Ryan said.
Christina and Ryan continued to make their way through the crowd, and Ryan was getting that same sick, angry, jealous feeling he always got when he saw Jake. Ryan knew it should be
him
standing there, signing autographs for the kids, getting all that attention.
Christina called out Jake’s name, and Jake must have heard, because he smiled widely and started heading in her direction. Jake didn’t make eye contact with Ryan, acting like Ryan was invisible. Then, when Jake reached Christina, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her toward him, lifting her off the ground slightly. When her feet were back down, his hands still on her hips, he leaned in and kissed her on the lips. It didn’t surprise Ryan that Jake went to kiss Christina - she was still his fiancée, after all. What surprised Ryan was the way Christina was kissing him back, with her mouth open and her hands wrapped around his waist.
All the cameras going off and the people whistling and cheering must have been making Christina uncomfortable or something, because when Jake tried to kiss her again she put her hands against his chest, pushing him away, and said, ‘Okay, that’s enough,’ sounding all pissed off.
‘It’s okay, baby, don’t worry,’ Jake said, and he said to the photographers, ‘Guys, how ‘bout cooling it for a while, huh?’
Jake put an arm around Christina and kissed her gently on the cheek. People in the crowd whistled, and one guy shouted, ‘Go for it, Jake!’ and some kid yelled, ‘Kiss her again! Kiss her again!’
Christina said to Jake, ‘Can’t we go inside?’
‘Sure, baby, sure,’ Jake said, and he took Christina’s hand and led her back toward the front of his parents’ house.
The crowd moaned.
‘Sorry, I have to go inside for a few, but I’ll be right back!’ Jake announced. ‘And don’t worry - everybody who wants an autograph is gonna get an autograph - I guarantee it!’
The crowd cheered. Then, as Jake and Christina entered the house together, the people inside started applauding and cheering. Flashes from cameras went off, and Jake was smiling, hamming it up, but Christina still seemed pissed off.
She squeezed Jake’s hand and whispered, ‘Can’t we go somewhere?’
‘No
problema,’
Jake said. ‘Lemme just get my coat and my bags.’ ‘No, I mean upstairs,’ Christina said, ‘or someplace we could be alone.’
‘Cool,’ Jake said, smiling, figuring that Christina wanted to have sex. She used to be kinda shy that way, never wanting to do it in public or when other people were around but hey, maybe she’d changed. The only problem was that they had no place to go. The guest room had been converted into a coatroom for the party, and doing it in his parents’ bed would be a major downer.
‘You wanna go upstairs?’ Christina asked.
‘Why not?’ Jake said, thinking they could do it in a closet. Christina walked ahead of Jake toward the staircase allowing him to get his first good look at her ass. It used to be about as narrow as her hips, and had a cute little heart shape, but now there was flab on the sides and the heart shape was gone. It was still a nice ass, an above-average ass, but once they got married he’d have to watch it closely.
When Christina reached the stairs, Jake’s mother rushed over and grabbed her hand.
‘Christina, wait, I have something for you,’ Donna Thomas said.
‘It’s really not a good time, Ma,’ Jake said.
‘Don’t worry; you can have her back,’ Donna said. ‘I just want to give her her birthday present.’ Then she said to Christina, ‘I called you on your birthday last month and left a message with your father. Did you get it?’
‘Yeah, I did,’ Christina said. ‘Sorry I didn’t call you back, but I’ve been busy with work and everything and—’
‘That’s okay, I understand,’ Donna said. ‘Come on upstairs for a sec and I’ll give you your present.’
‘Ma, can’t you do that later?’
‘We’ll be right back.’
Donna and Christina went upstairs. Jake looked away, cursing to himself; then he saw Ryan standing a few feet away.
Jake’s first thought when he looked at Ryan was,
Man, what a loser.
Jake hadn’t talked to Ryan much since high school, and had seen him maybe once or twice since the Indians had cut him. He heard about him all the time, though, through his mother, who was best friends with Ryan’s mother. So Jake knew that Ryan had had some kind of breakdown after his baseball career fell apart, then got some kind of job painting houses. His life sounded depressing as hell, and the guy looked like hell too, like he’d been in a war or something. And what was the deal with the do-rag, the T-Mac jersey, the gang-style jeans, and the LeBrons?
‘Hey, buddy, where did you come from?’ Jake asked, smiling pleasantly as if he were happy to see Ryan.
‘Outside,’ Ryan said, not smiling at all.
Ryan and Jake did the handshake they’d made up as kids -tapping the sides of their raised fists twice, then, with the same hands, clenching the tips of each other’s fingers and pulling their hands away simultaneously, making a loud snapping sound - but it didn’t help break the ice.
For a few seconds afterward Ryan didn’t say anything. He just stared at Jake in a weird, lost way.
‘So how you been, bro?’ Jake asked.
‘All right,’ Ryan said.
‘That’s cool, man. That’s real cool.’
Jake didn’t know what else to say. He felt like Ryan was jealous of him and his baseball career and that he had to walk on eggshells, make sure he didn’t say anything that might rub Ryan the wrong way and make him feel bad about his life and dreams going to shit. Meanwhile, Ryan had never had any real talent. Yeah, he practiced hard when he was growing up, had big dreams, but he was deluded, believing a guy his size could make it to the major leagues, as a pitcher no less. Jake must’ve told him hundreds of times to give it up, to learn another position, maybe second base or even shortstop, if he wanted to have a shot at making it in the show, but Ryan wouldn’t listen. Then, when Ryan blew out his elbow, he used that as an excuse, acting as if his ‘great career’ had been cut short. But the fact was, he would have hit a dead end sooner or later. He had mediocre stuff - bottom line, end of story. His fastball didn’t have any pop, and his curveball broke the same way every time. Just because he could get high school kids to back out of the box and duck their heads didn’t mean the pros would go for that junk. If he didn’t fuck up his arm, he would’ve been cut in another year or two anyway. Best-case scenario, he would’ve made it to triple A for a game or two, and then he would’ve been back in Brooklyn, living with his parents and painting houses.
‘So you came here straight from work, huh?’ Jake asked.
‘Yeah,’ Ryan said. ‘Kind of. How’d you know that?’
‘You got some paint. . .’ Jake pointed to Ryan’s goatee.
‘Oh.’ Ryan picked out the clump of paint with his thumb and forefinger and flicked it away. ‘I guess I do.’
Ryan still had that weird, shell-shocked thing going on, and Jake thought,
Man, what a fuckin’ freak show.
‘So how’s all that going - the painting houses?’ Jake asked.
‘Pretty good,’ Ryan said. ‘I’m starting my own business.’
‘Cool. That’s real cool, bro.’
Jake looked over his shoulder, hoping to see Christina coming down the stairs to save him, but she wasn’t there.
‘So how long you in town for?’ Ryan asked.
‘Just a couple days,’ Jake said. ‘I was hoping to have a low-key weekend, you know, chill with Christina, but then they hit me with all this party shit. But I just gotta take the good with the bad, I guess, know what I mean?’
‘Yeah, well maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow,’ Ryan said. ‘I mean, if you’re around. I promised some guys at work I’d have you autograph some stuff for them.’
‘No problema,
bro,’ Jake said; then he turned again and saw his mother and Christina coming down the stairs. Christina was wearing some ridiculous-looking pink sweater with blue and red flowers around the neckline.
‘So,’ Donna Thomas said. ‘What do you think?’
Seeing how uncomfortable Christina looked in the sweater, with her arms stiff at her sides, almost made Jake crack up. Managing to keep a straight face, he said, ‘Wow, Ma. That looks really beautiful. Did you knit that yourself?’
‘I certainly did,’ Donna said, and she put an arm around Christina’s waist as she kissed Jake on the cheek. Then she said to Ryan, ‘Aren’t they the best-looking couple in the world?’
Ryan, staring in that lost, psycho way, didn’t say anything.
‘Well, excuse us,’ Jake said, as he took Christina’s hand.
‘Where you going?’ Ryan said.
‘We’re just gonna have a little talk,’ Jake said, swirling his tongue against his inner cheek for a moment, making sure that Ryan, but not his mother, saw it.
‘You’re not going anywhere,’ Ryan said.
‘What’re you talking about?’ Jake said.
‘It’s okay,’ Christina said to Ryan.
‘No, it’s not okay,’ Ryan said.
‘What the hell’s your problem?’ Jake said.
‘Why don’t you come with me?’ Donna said to Christina. ‘I want to show Rose-Marie the sweater. She helped me pick out the wool.’
‘Come on, Ma,’ Jake said.
‘It’ll take two seconds,’ Donna said.
‘I’ll be right back,’ Christina said to Jake, then followed Donna into the living room.
Ryan turned and watched as Christina modeled the sweater for his mother.
‘What the hell’s wrong with you, man?’ Jake said to Ryan.
Ryan, still watching Christina, didn’t answer.
‘Seriously, that shit was very uncool,’ Jake said. ‘I mean, I understand how hard it all must be for you - 1 mean, seeing me on
Sports Center
every night - but I’ve had a long, shitty day and I really need to get my pipes cleaned.’
Ryan turned back toward Jake and shouted, ‘Shut the fuck up!’
‘Whoa, dude,’ Jake said. The house was noisy, with people talking and music playing inside and outside, but Jake’s brother-in-law, Roger, who was standing several feet away, must’ve heard what Ryan said, because he was looking over.
‘Talking about Christina like she’s some ho,’ Ryan said. ‘Fuck you. Christina’s a beautiful woman and she deserves to be treated with respect.’
‘All right, bro, relax, relax,’ Jake said, fake-smiling, not wanting to cause any more of a scene, making out like he and Ryan were just two old friends kidding around. Then, when Roger stopped looking over, Jake said to Ryan, ‘You better chill with this shit, man.’
Ryan had turned back toward Christina, who was looking back at Ryan and Jake.
‘Oh, I get it,’ Jake said. ‘You got the hots for my girl.’
The way Ryan was glaring, without blinking, Jake knew he’d hit on it.
‘See? You can’t slip one past J.T. I remember how you used to get in high school, when me and Christina started going out. We’d be at a party or whatever and you’d just start staring at her with your mouth hanging open, like you were catching flies. You got good taste, bro - I’ll give you that much.’
Jake laughed, but Ryan’s expression didn’t change.
‘Look, if you’re just hard up and wanna get some why don’t you chill and come outside with me later?’ Jake said. ‘I’ll get you a hot-looking girl on your arm in two minutes. That’s if you don’t mind taking my sloppy seconds.’
‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Ryan said, and he walked away. Jake shook his head, deciding that Ryan was too far gone for help, then went into the living room toward Christina, his mother, and Rose-Marie Rossetti. A kid he didn’t know cut him off and asked him to sign a Pirates batting helmet and a Topps rookie card; then his cousin Sheila came over and he had to bullshit with her for a couple of minutes. After posing for a picture with his parents’ friends the Petersons, and signing some more shit, he finally reached Christina. He took her aside and said, ‘Let’s just get the hell out of here, baby.’
‘Why?’ Christina said. ‘I mean weren’t we gonna go upstairs and talk?’
‘There’s too many people here. I can’t walk five feet without getting stopped.’
‘Where do you want to go?’
‘Anywhere to be with you, baby.’
‘How about we go outside?’ Christina said.
‘How about we go to the city? I’ll get us a suite at the Plaza and a reservation at Nobu. Don’t worry - we’ll stop at Barneys and buy you some new clothes to change into.’
‘No. I mean why can’t we just go to the backyard or the basement or something?’
‘ ‘Cause I wanna be alone with you.’ Jake held her hand and tickled the underside of her wrist with his middle finger and pointer.
Christina moved her hand away and said, ‘Jake, we really need to talk.’
‘So what’re we waiting for? Let’s go.’
‘Why can’t we talk right here? Go into a room or something, or—’
‘How about we go back to your place?’
‘My place?’
‘Yeah. I mean, it’ll be nice and quiet there, right?’
Christina looked over toward a table where Ryan was standing, pouring a glass of soda.
‘All right. I mean, maybe it is a good idea to get out of here . . . I’ll be right back.’
‘Where’re you going?’
‘My jacket’s upstairs.’
‘You can get it later. Besides, you got that beautiful sweater to keep you warm.’
Jake smiled, but Christina didn’t seem to think it was funny.
‘I’ll be right back,’ she said, and hurried toward the staircase. Jake was immediately cornered by his cousin John, some kid with bad acne, and a tall, bearded guy who looked kind of familiar and might have been a second or third cousin on his mother’s side. As he signed a Pirates yearbook, some baseball cards, and a cap for them, they asked: ‘Do you know Carlos Beltran?’ ‘Who’s the best pitcher in baseball?’ ‘What’s the longest home run you ever hit?’ Jake tried to answer all their questions as patiently and as politely as possible, but he was distracted, suddenly thinking about Patti, that United stewardess.
‘What?’ Jake asked, lost.
‘Who’d you rather play for, the Yanks or the Mets?’ the kid with the acne asked - for, Jake figured, the second or third time.
‘Yankees,’ Jake said. ‘I mean, with all that tradition, it would be a dream come true.’
Jake turned his head and saw Christina coming down the stairs, wearing her jacket and holding the sweater over one arm. He felt like running out the door and going right to Parti’s place, but he managed to control himself. It was only one weekend for chrissakes, and after he set the wedding date and left Brooklyn he’d be a free man again.
Before Christina could reach Jake, Ryan came over and cut her off. Ryan seemed very angry, moving his arms a lot as he talked, and then Christina started talking and Ryan had his arms crossed in front of his chest. Jake had no idea why they would have so much to say to each other.
Finally Christina left Ryan standing there, looking like a pathetic loser, and came over to Jake.
‘Ready?’ Jake asked.
‘How’re we gonna leave?’
‘Out the back.’
‘What about all your fans outside?’
‘Fuck ‘em.’
Jake took Christina by the hand and led her toward the kitchen. Jake had to have short conversations along the way, but they kept moving; then Jake pushed open the swinging door. Shit, there were people packed into the kitchen too. What did his mother do, invite all of Brooklyn to this party? People shook Jake’s hand and Jake smiled, not stopping, continuing to lead Christina along toward the back door.