Home from the Vinyl Cafe (38 page)

She got the jock at the Sports Authority. “An extra-extra-small athletic support for a seven-year-old boy. He is playing hockey,” she said nonchalantly. “It’s his second year.” She wasn’t sure why she added the lie.

Sam put it on as soon as she got home. He put it on over his pants. Then, before she could stop him, he ran across the street to show Allen. Why not? thought Morley. She watched them from the window, Sam standing proudly on the front lawn. He looks like a ballet dancer, she thought. Then Allen kicking Sam between the legs. Her son laughing. “Again!” he shouted. He wore the jockstrap to bed that night. And to school the next day, under his jeans. Morley was going to say no, and then she thought, Why not? For a week she kept finding it all over the house—on the stairs, on the couch in the TV room, slung over his chair in the kitchen. She felt no compulsion to put it away. She was as pleased with it as he was.