Pretend You Love Me (18 page)

If Darryl had kept up the business, we’d have money. Enough for me to play competitive.

Stop thinking about it. You’re not going.

Damn her. Damn Coach Kinneson. She was dredging all this up.

“I’ve been hearing about this pitcher.” She motioned for me to come sit beside her on the bench. “Womack. Is that her name?”

I lowered myself and perched at the edge. You can read her jersey good as me, I thought. Wow, I’d better keep my mouth shut
today.

Coach rested her elbows on her knees to watch. “Jerry said the scouts are all hyperventilating to get her signed too.”

Womack pivoted and rifled a missile to center field.

“You could have a future in this game, Mike—”

I stood and grabbed my glove. “In case you haven’t heard, Szabo Plumbing is back in business.”

Coach glanced up at me. “I meant a real future. Away from here.”

Who said I wanted away? I loped out into the field before regrettable words spewed out of my mouth. Words that might threaten
that perfect attendance record by getting me suspended. Or worse, kicked off the team.

We got shut out. The Sharon Springs’ pitcher was too much for us. We lost our composure, lost our cool. Womack scared us.
She scared me. And that’s an accomplishment.

After the game, as we were slapping hands with the Sharon Springers—proffering insincere congratulations—Womack grabbed my
wrist and held on. “Girl,” she said, peering into my eyes. She knew. Knew who, or what, I was. She was one too.

“Devon,” someone called.

She broke our connection and turned. “Yo.”

I watched her lope back to her team and join in their victory whoop. Devon Womack. We’d be hearing her name again.

“Mike, over here.” Xanadu waved from the backstop. She’d come alone; sat in a crowd on the top riser of the bleachers. I could
finally let my happiness show; let it fly. She’d cheered for me every time I’d snagged a wild pitch or come up to bat. Too
bad I didn’t show her my best stuff today.

“You were totally awesome,” she said as I sauntered over.

“Oh yeah. We kicked butt.” I rolled my eyes.

She cocked her head. “Well,
you
were good. Your coach is right. You should go to that camp.”

“Would everyone just lay off about the camp!”

Xanadu reeled back. “God.”

Geez. What was wrong with me? “I’m sorry.” I reached for her, withdrew my hand. It wasn’t her fault.

“Sza-bo. Mighty Mike.” Jamie jumped on my back for a pony ride. I dropped my shoulder and slammed him into the dirt.

Xanadu said, “We should go celebrate.”

Jamie writhed around on the ground, faking a collapsed lung.

“Celebrate what?” I asked, helping him up. “We sucked.”

“So? Celebrations don’t have to be about winning. They can be about life. Living. Just being alive.”

Jamie brushed off his shorts. “I like that. Cuz you never know when you might bite the big one.”

My eyes sliced through him like a chain saw.

He gulped. “Sorry. Sorry, Mike. God, what’s wrong with me?”

Did he want a list?

“The Mouth here is contagious.” He thumbed at Xanadu.

She bent back his thumb until he squealed. I was beginning to like this girl. Love her.

“We could finish what we started,” Jamie said. He meant the vodka and whiskey, since we’d only managed to drink half of each.
The bottles
were stashed inside a toilet tank in the back of the truck. He added, “Tomorrow night. I don’t have to work Fridays.”

“I can’t tomorrow,” Xanadu said. “I’m going out with Bailey.”

Jamie’s eyes met mine. I averted my gaze, glancing over at the scoreboard.
HOME:
8.
VISITORS:
0. They could clear the board anytime.

“What about Saturday night?” Xanadu suggested.

“I have to work till ten.” Jamie pouted. “But we could go afterward.”

They waited for my answer. The Merc would be closed by then. I didn’t really want to go out drinking again, but what could
I say? I wanted to see her, be with her. Always, forever. “Okay. Sure.”

Xanadu smiled, that secret smile.

Jamie made a weird face. What? Did he notice? If so, he didn’t embarrass me by being an asshole. “Same time, same station.”
He punched my arm. I slugged him in the gut. He faked a vomit.

“I better get the hearse back before dark.” Xanadu sighed. “Uncle Lee got into it with Aunt Faye about me even borrowing it.”
Grabbing Jamie by his cougar emblem, she added, “Let’s go, girlfriend.” She yanked him toward the parking lot. I heard Jamie
say, “Could I ride in the trunk and pretend I’m a corpse?”

I was moving the rabbit hutches closer to the front by the rolls of chicken wire when Everett hollered, “Mike. Telephone.”

Telephone? I’d never gotten a call here. No one would phone for me at the Merc. Unless it was an emergency. What could be
an emergency? Another leaky tub?

I hurried inside. Behind the counter, Everett handed me the phone and said, “Not too long. I’m waiting for a call from Goodland
on those bedding plants. They were supposed to be here yesterday.”

I nodded acknowledgment and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Mike, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Your brother said you were working. How old is he? He sounds totally hot.”

Darryl? She must’ve dialed the wrong number. “He’s twenty-four going on fifty.” If she was calling to tell me about her date
last night, she’d generate more interest from Jamie. I didn’t care. I lay awake most of the night not caring, wondering where
they’d gone, what they were doing.

“Are we still going out tonight?” Xanadu asked.

“Of course.” Had she forgotten? She wouldn’t forget. Would she? I was thinking about buying a new pair of Levi’s. Dressing
up for her. Standing out. Everett had marked all the jeans down this morning. He might let me pay in a couple of installments.

Xanadu let out an audible breath. “Okay, here’s the thing. Bailey asked if I’d like to come to dinner at his house tonight.
He wants me to meet his parents. Apparently they all eat together on Saturday, then sit around and play cards. How Toto is
that?”

She wasn’t coming.

“I know we were going drinking…”

She wasn’t coming.

“I guess what I’m calling about is to ask if you’d be mad if I went to Bailey’s. I didn’t tell him yes. I told him I’d think
about it. I probably should’ve told him I had other plans, but I couldn’t bring myself to say I’d rather go out and get wasted
with you guys than play Crazy Eights with the ’rents.”

“Why not?” I asked.

She paused. “Come on. You know Bailey.”

I did. He and Beau were choirboys. I’d never seen either of them take a drink, not even on the hayride at Coalton Days. Everett
cleared his throat in my ear. In the mirror behind the counter, I caught his dour look. Didn’t he have pig feed to inventory,
dewormer to stock, pasture grass to grow?

“What do you think?” Xanadu asked.

What do I think? I think I want you to choose me.

“Mike?”

I had this vision. I’d make her feel guilty and she’d go with us. All night long she’d be wishing she was with Bailey, resenting
me for keeping her from him. Yeah, I wanted her, but not like that. She had to want me too.

“Go to Bailey’s,” I told her. “The booze’ll keep. It’s kept this long.”

“God, you’re so awesome.” She sounded happy, relieved. “Thanks, Mike. I’ll make it up to you.”

Make it good, I thought. This is killing me.

Her door was open a crack. I could hear the rattled intake of breath. She was dead to the world, snoring.

From the top drawer I scooped up Dad’s last two undershirts. Something in the back of the drawer drew my attention. Colors.
Fabric. His suspenders. His red, white, and blue suspenders. The ones he wore for Coalton Days. I wanted them. I lifted them
out and looped them over my wrist.

Ma hadn’t stirred, so I took the time to check around again for Dad’s work shirts. The navy ones with S
ZABO
P
LUMBING AND
H
EATING
embroidered over the breast pocket. He had a stack of them somewhere. In all my snooping I hadn’t run across even one. Where
were they? Ma’s side of the dresser, maybe?

Her first drawer was stuffed with underwear—enormous swaths of cotton and polyester. Gray, holey, ick. It reminded me of the
first time—the only time—I saw her naked. I was jolted awake by her screaming.

“Mike! Mike!”

I threw off my quilt and tore down the hall. Their door was ajar and Ma was screeching, “Mike, wake up. The baby isn’t breathing.”
She had the baby in her arms and was wheezing, “Wake up, wake up,” Shaking Camilia’s limp body. Ma’s loose skin jiggled and
her rear end
hung in layers, folds, and she turned to the side, in profile, and I saw her huge droopy breasts with the gigantic brown nipples
and I couldn’t help staring at them. Dad lay in bed, his mouth open, snoring. Passed out.

Ma wailed, “Mike, get up! There’s something wrong with the baby.”

I blinked. “Mommy?”

She whirled and saw me in the doorway. Her eyes were wild with terror. Indescribable hell. She shrilled, “Get out! Get out
of here!” She charged me, a raging elephant. “Go away.”

I realized suddenly she wasn’t calling for me, Mike. She meant Dad. Ma hit the door running and slammed it in my face. I stumbled
and fell. Then skittered back to my room and shut my door, burrowing under my quilt, hugging my knees to my chest, shaking.

The sounds of doors opening and closing and Ma screaming. Darryl’s voice. “Ma?” Dad’s voice, finally. Later, a siren. Heavy
footsteps. Shouting. I plugged my ears with my fingers and squeezed my eyes shut.

That’s all I remember.

After that, the empty crib. The one still sitting in the corner of Ma’s room under heaps of clothes and trash and passing
years.

Would Dad’s shirts be in the crib? No, he kept them washed and folded. He kept all his things neat and tidy.

She didn’t. After Camilia died, Dad did everything around the house.

I eased open the second dresser drawer. A kraft envelope lay under the cup of a huge cotton bra. I slid out the envelope and
tipped it. An object fell out. It chinked on the floor at my feet. A ring. Dad’s wedding band. She didn’t need that. I slid
it on my finger. Too big, of course. The drawer below was empty. All her lower drawers, empty. I knew why. She couldn’t bend
to reach them.

A sound, a feeling, made me spin around. Ma was looking at me.

I gave a little yelp and shut the bottom drawer with my foot.

Her beady eyes studied me. They stripped me bare.

“I… needed some stuff.” My voice broke. I cleared my throat.

Ma’s jaw went slack. Her eyes glassy.

God, was she dead? “Ma?” I started toward her and she blinked back to life. She blinked again, like, Back off. Honing in on
the stuff in my hands, she stared as if transfixed.

She was creeping me out. I took a wide berth around her to the door. Pausing in the threshold, I said, “You need anything?”

She didn’t move. Didn’t answer. Didn’t know I was alive.