Me and Mom Fall for Spencer (15 page)

Me and Mom Fall for
Spencer

Chapter Twenty-Three

Spencer has dragged Ned around
Cyro’s
house to the backyard. He is in the process of
penning him there, and running some water through the hose.

I am taking
Cyro
another plate of Spencer’s food.

“Doe can cook,”
Cyro
says receiving the plate with interest.

So I’m back in the kitchen scrubbing
things when Spencer enters all out of breath with Ned behind him trying to get
in. Spencer says no, very loudly,
then
he closes the
door. Well he slams it.

I wonder if he wants to take Ned back to
Barb. I hope not.

“He’s impossible,” he says to me, like
Ned’s a teenager caught smoking weed.

Spencer goes to the door beside the
pantry and yanks it open. The dank cellar air fills the room. “I’m going down
there to find a paint brush and something to stop the underground rodent
railroad.” He says this like Scarlett at Tara, the clod of dirt in her hand. I
mean he seems to be all about resolve right now.

“There’s one in the living room,” I say.
“A rodent.”

“I’ll get it,” Spencer sings a little
like it’s always up to him to set things right.

He goes down the hall to the living room
and I go back to my scrubbing. He comes back in the kitchen, takes the trap
outside, fights with Ned,
comes
back in swearing that
dog is going back to the shelter today, only he says too-day. Then he is
marching down
Cyro’s
rickety basement stairs. I hear
him trip, curse, say he’s alright and carry on with an occasional crash and
more cursing.

Eventually there is hammering. No more
rodents. It’s so nice to have a man around the house.

When he finally emerges, paintbrushes in
hand, I have thrown all the science experiments out of the fridge.

And I want to know if he’s who he says
he is.

“Spencer, about…what
Cyro
said….”

“You’re still on that?” he whispers,
shaking those brushes at me. “I’m not going to be defending myself every time
some rusty gear grinds another inch and he decides to spurt something…crazy. So
just drop it, Sullivan.”

“But you’d tell me?”

He shakes his head. “You want the
truth,” he says getting closer.

“Yes,” I say thinly, licking my lips in
case I’m about to be kissed.

“I saw your underwear those two times. Yes,
I mean just what you think I mean.” He smiles then, and it’s kind of evil. “Changed
my life,” he says, smirking in the direction of my…knees. But when he brings
those eyes back to mine…I dry gulp.

He brushes against me as he leaves the
room and I am effectively knocked off topic.

Cyro’s
kitchen is pretty clean when I leave his house hours later, no it is gleaming. I
leave Spencer painting away. He and
Cyro
are hitting
it off.
Cyro
is more talkative than I’ve heard him be
in years.
 

When Spencer had first gone in there to
get the room ready for paint,
Cyro
had told him he
was a good cook. Spencer said, thanks, and he was learning. Then
Cyro
asked a lot of questions like, where’d you grow up,
any military service? You were a teacher? What school was that?

Spencer said, “Look
Cyro
,
I appreciate your interest, but fresh start means just that. I’m not in WITSEC
and I don’t want a rumor like that to get started. And we’re not doing
Law
and Order
, man.”

So Spencer was the one who brought up WITSEC.
Cyro
never said one way or the other if he believed Spencer’s
denial. The answers to
Cyro’s
questions were vague,
but Spencer insisted he wasn’t in the program. “You watch too much television,
man,” Spencer said.

That’s when I heard
Cyro’s
big-ass silence.

I made them both a couple of sandwiches
and said I’d be going home to work and taking Ned with me. They were practically
kissing over a mutual love of the Broncos when I slipped out.

So I have worked all day on my computer.
Mom has been home for a couple of hours. She’s called to me, but I haven’t
answered. Now I let Ned go downstairs and I ask her to put him in the yard. She
says we have to talk and I say, “Not now, I’m working.”

It’s almost six when I hear Spencer and
Ned in my yard. I go to the window and Ned runs around and Spencer throws a
stick. Spencer is paint splattered—it’s even in his hair. He looks happy,
rewarding Ned with a furious rub-down, like he’s making up for yelling at him
earlier.

WITSEC would explain the loneliness,
wouldn’t it? But he doesn’t look lonely now he looks happy.

I don’t know how long I am there before
he catches sight of me and waves. I wave back. He points at my garden,
then
lifts his hands in question. I know it needs picked. I
know, tomorrow is the market. Then I hear the backdoor close and I see Mom in
the yard making a beeline for Spencer.

I lift the glass so I can hear. Mom
draws near to where Spencer
waits,
hands at his sides,
fingers curled. If this was the Wild West he’d have the six shooters right
there on his hips. Too bad it’s
po
-dunk Michigan.

I hear her say to Spencer, “Sarah didn’t
make it home last night.”

I hurry out of my room then, down the
stairs and through the kitchen, out the door. Ned is happy to see me. He runs
wildly to me, barking.

Spencer rebukes Ned. He pats his leg for
Ned to come and Ned pretends to, then circles back to me.

“Mom,” I’m saying, “what are you doing?”

Mom is in her lounging dress. She’s
holding a drink, I don’t know what. Her hair is done and she has on the jewelry
that means a date. “Go in the house, Sarah.”

“What?” I have to laugh some. “Go in the
house?
For real?”

“C’mon,” Spencer says to me, kind of
ignoring Mom, “let’s pick this thing.”

“Did you hear what I said?” Mom repeats
to Spencer.

“About Sarah?
I heard.” He turns to me, “Hey get the baskets.”

“I know she was with you. I called
Leeanne
and she wasn’t there.”

Spencer shrugs. He goes to the tomatoes
and starts to fill the front of his shirt.

“You think I’ll sit by while you take
advantage of her?”

“Of Sarah?
C’mon, Marie. I’m not getting in the middle of this.” He smirks and shakes his
head while he keeps picking.

“Mom,” I say, “that’s enough. You need
to go in the house.”

“He’s taking advantage. I told you this
would happen. You’ve got a crush on him and he’s using you,” Mom says.

“Hey,” Spencer says, his shirt full,
“get the baskets, Sarah.” Then to Mom, “Marie…I’m not using Sarah. That’s
bullshit and you know it.”

I don’t want to leave. “You get the
baskets,” I say to Spencer. “They’re right inside the back door.”

He looks from me to Mom and he goes for
the house.

I am looking at her, wanting to throw
something at her, some vegetable, for saying Spencer is using me. That’s so
embarrassing and she has no idea how I feel. “Mom
go
inside.” When she gets going she doesn’t listen. No matter what she keeps
going.

“You’re being such a fool,” she tells
me. “Did you have sex with him?”

“Mom!”
I yell. “You’re…just stop.”

She takes off toward the house and Spencer
is coming out now, his shirt empty, one basket already weighted in his hand.

Mom gets close to him. “I called Colin about
you. There’s something on you. You don’t just come to a place like this, just
show up. You think because we live in a small town you can exploit us and we
won’t know? Buster you’re nothing new. This world is full of conmen and
sinners. I could see it on you first day but I was willing to give you a
chance, had you over to our house,
tried
to help you
out. You knew she was vulnerable and you went right for her.”

“Marie,” Spencer says, “I don’t want
trouble. That’s the last thing I want. I don’t mean harm to you or anyone here.
Especially Sarah.
Did you talk to
Cyro
or something…
have
a neighborhood meeting? Cause this
little fairy tale you’ve got going is messed up.”

“Colin said we should keep our distance
until we knew you better. He said he’d drive by here more often, too.”

“Based on what, Marie? I’d really prefer
you didn’t call the cops and put me in a bad light.” Then he looks at me,
“We’re living
The
X-Files
! Is this
really your mother, or an alien posing as your mother?”

Oh, it’s my mother.

“You stay the hell away from Sarah,” Mom
says. Now she’s bar-mom, toughest gal in the place.

“I’m sorry you’re upset about whatever,
but that’s more about you than me.”

He walks to my garden then, hands me the
other basket.

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

And even though I can feel his anger he
touches my chin with his knuckles. I’m trying to get out of my head, I really
am. I’m not like him, able to come back so honestly and clever. Sometimes I
feel so much I can’t get anything out.

Mom throws her drink on the ground and
pretty much yells, “More about me? You tell her how you put your hands on me
that night at your house?”

“You nearly fell off a chair,” he says,
his face flushing red. Then to me, “Sarah she was standing on a chair to
measure something and she started to fall and I put my hands on her.”

“You couldn’t get anywhere with me so
you go to my daughter?”

Spencer is looking at me.
“Sarah...no.
No. I’m telling you…it did not happen like that.”

“Sure you’ll deny it,
your
kind always do.” Now Mom is looking at me, “Don’t you
be a fool, Sarah. He’s a snake charmer. He tried it on me too, but I know
better. You can ask Christine, honey. She knows.”

Spencer looks at me and says, “Sarah….” Whatever
he is going to say dies in his throat.

There is no crash of thunder, no
lightening splitting the sky, no rumbling earth under my feet. There is the
sound of a loud engine stopping somewhere in front of our house, and Ned is
still barking…but I just know. I have already decided.

So I shake my head. “Mom, go in the
house. You’re disrespecting Spencer…and yourself.”

I don’t slap her, don’t want to. But her
face looks that way.

“Marie Sullivan?”

We all look at the big man dressed kind
of like a pirate and standing at the gate to our yard. It’s his motorcycle I
heard pull up. Mom will be straddling a hog again.

Ned goes crazy and Spencer has to chase
him and subdue him. I figure it’s a great way to get rid of some of the
adrenaline that must be coursing through him.

Turns out the pirate is Mom’s date
Jace
. Like ‘face’ with a J, he says after Mom says, “Jack?”

So Mom turns into someone else, and she takes
Jace
like face into the house while she finishes
getting ready and Spencer and
me
and Ned are left in
the garden of sin.

Spencer is already trying to pick an
eggplant.

“You need the knife,” I say. I go there
and saw the purple globe free from the stem. I put it in his basket. “You…you
may be the first man to ever turn her down,” I say, hoping to explain it
some…her tantrum.

He nods. “Sarah, I don’t want to
complicate your life. But I don’t know if it’s possible not to. What have I
done to cause all this speculation?”

“You’re just…you’re you.” I mean, I hope
he’s him…Spencer. “You just can’t be ignored. I mean you’re gorgeous…you’re
kind…you play the guitar…you…make great eggs…great…,” I almost say “love”, like
‘you make great love,’ and I almost have a heart attack to think I almost say
that, “…and you’re fearless…with the mice…and
Cyro’s
basement…and Ned…you chase Ned around and…keep him safe. And you stood the real
test…pissed off Mom…and you…you shine Spencer. You’re…polka-dotted…,” I laugh
because there’s so much
paint
in his hair, but there
are tears in my eyes and more pushing at the damn of my resolve to not let them
through.

He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles.
 

“You don’t feel that way…like I’m using
you? God, Sarah….”

“No.” But there is a way I might feel
that, if he is hiding something big, like
who
he is.