Danny's Mom (10 page)

“They fit. They fit great. Please, Mommy. Let's buy these.”

“How ’bout taking a little walk to make sure,” Arnie says.

The cleats leave Cheerio imprints on the carpeted area of the shoe section. “They're gr-r-reat!” Danny announces again as he hops back into his seat.

As the memory played out, I tossed my drippy ice cream into the trash can in front of Arnie's and started for home. But at the light on the corner of Main Street and Bay Avenue, Danny's voice came again. “Mommy, I forgot. When's the game?”

“Saturday, honey.”

“I want Moose to come.”

“We'll see.”

“Mommy, Billy Kramer's dog died.”

“That's sad.”

“And Billy said Moose will die before I grow up 'cause dogs don't live long like people.”

“That's right, honey. But some dogs live a long time—fourteen or fifteen years, even. So don't worry about Moose. I think he'll be around for a very long time.”

“That's good, Mommy. 'Cause I'll be very, very, very sad when Moose dies.”

Without stopping at the blinking answering machine, I headed upstairs. Moose lay still in Danny's room.

“Hey, old boy. Let's go out.” He lifted his head, but his body didn't budge. I curled up beside him. “Hey, Moose-Moose.” I stroked the underside of his chin. He craned his neck for more. “I know, Moosey. You miss him too.”

The old yellow Lab struggled to get up, his legs unfolding like rusty hinges. He labored down the steps and stopped for water from his bowl in the kitchen. Once outside in the sun, though, his joints seemed to loosen. I watched Moose loop around the basketball post till he found his spot. When he finished spraying the azaleas by the driveway, he looked almost majestic, so unlike the shrunken spirit on Danny's carpet just minutes before.

A squirrel froze by the giant oak in the yard. Moose barked and took off for the tree. I flashed back to Moose as a puppy, sprinting out the front door, coming back with a dead squirrel. Joe put on gardening gloves before he yanked it from Moose's mouth. Danny laughed at their tug of war. “Pull, Moosey! Pull!”

“It's not funny, Danny,” Joe said. “He could get sick from this.”

Danny stood next to me while I called the vet. “Just watch him today, Mrs. Maller. He probably didn't kill it, just picked up the car-cass from someone's lawn, I'd guess. Call back if he doesn't seem right. And Mrs. Maller, try not to let him run out again.”

“Is Moose gonna die, Mommy?”

“No, honey. We just have to watch to make sure he doesn't get sick.”

“Mommy? Do you think Billy Kramer's dog caught a squirrel?”

I clicked on the answering machine while Moose trotted around outside. Dad checking in. Then Joe announcing he'd be home early and “how 'bout we go out for dinner? Something light. The diner, maybe.” And then my college buddy, Rayanne, telling me Andy's deal
had come through. She and Andy and the boys would be in London for a year. Wouldn't dream of trying to sublet their apartment, and wouldn't I love a place in the city?

I returned Dad's call.

“Hi, honey. How was your day?”

“Fine.” The truth was too hard. “And what did you do today, Dad?”

“Oh, not much. This afternoon, Saul and I went to Home Depot. Martha's been after him to fix the deck before summer, so I thought I'd give him a hand.”

“You're a good friend, Dad.” I gazed at Moose as he pawed a patch of grass. “Saul's lucky to have you.”

“Beth, you don't sound right. Something happen at school?”

“You're too smart. Remember when I told you that
you
should have been the counselor?”

“Sure, but you were wrong. I could never do what you do. I wouldn't want to work with teenagers every day. Especially now.”

“Actually, it's not the kids who make it hard. It's the administrators.” I let Moose in and watched him stamp muddy prints on the kitchen floor. “I don't know … it's like … like doing the right thing is suddenly wrong.”

“Listen, Beth. I don't know what happened today, and I guess you don't want to tell me. But I'll tell
you
something: Doing the right thing is never wrong. And I know you believe that because that's what you always told Danny.” My father waited for me to speak, but I didn't know what to say. “I'm here if you need me, honey,” Dad finally continued. “If you feel like talking, just call back.”

I cleaned up Moose's prints as little boy Danny played in my mind again. I pictured us in Maine, the summer before first grade, before soccer. Even now, I can close my eyes and still see us there. Danny wants to build in the sand. He whines for help. Yet I don't want to pull myself away from
To Kill A Mockingbird
, though
I'd already read it in high school and had seen the movie twice. So Joe goes with Danny. They're gone a long time.

“Mommy!” Danny's voice brings me back from Maycomb. “Come see what we built. It's gr-r-reat!” I brush sand off the back of my legs as I stand.

“Lead the way, buddy!”

In the distance, Joe guards a section of the beach. “Where's the castle, Danny?”

“You'll see.” He giggles.

“I don't see any building over there.”

Joe blocks my view. “Come on, Joe,” I say as we approach. “Let me see.”

Joe doesn't move. “We had fun. Didn't we, Danny?”

“Yep.”

Joe winks. “Ready to show Mommy our castle?”

Danny looks up at me. “Well, it's not really a castle. It's much, much better than a castle.” He turns to Joe. “Okay, Daddy.”

“Ta-da!” Joe steps to the side.

“Ta-da! Isn't it great, Mommy?”

I stare at the face of a dog, in sandy bas-relief on the beach. Joe's perfect block lettering forms an inscription: D
ANNY'S
D
OG
.

“Whaddaya think, Mommy? Isn't it great? Daddy said we can get one. Right, Daddy? When we get home.”

I carried that memory upstairs and found Moose in Danny's room again. “Think I'll go rest too, old boy.”

In my bed, I curled under the down comforter, which should have already been stored for next winter. I pictured Rayanne's apartment in the city and welcomed sleep.

I dreamed we were back in Maine, back on the beach. Danny and Joe are off somewhere. I'm with Rayanne. We lie side by side, our sun reflectors like starched silver collars. The beach is deserted.

“Let's go for a swim,” I say.

“Nah. I just wannna soak up the sun.”

I tug Rayanne's arm. “Come on. Let's go in.”

“No way. There aren't even any waves. What fun is that?”

I look at the water. “Okay then. I'm gonna find Danny and Joe.”

My feet sizzle when I hit the sand. I jump back on the towel. “It's burning, Ray. Where are our shoes?”

“Beats me, Beth. I don't need them 'cause I'm not going anywhere. And you shouldn't either. No one's calling. No one needs you.”

“But I just wanna see what they're up to.” I stand on the towel, scanning the beach for Danny and Joe. “Come on, Ray. I need my shoes. I don't see the guys.”

“I told you. I don't know where your shoes are.” Rayanne sits up, still collared in cardboard and foil. “But Peter Stone probably does.”

Peter appears, his belly hanging over bathing trunks. He holds my flip-flops like an offering. “Want your shoes, Mrs. Maller?”

“Please, Peter. Yes.”

“Well … let's see. You catch them, you can have them. Now what do you say we see how high these babies can fly? Rayanne, look alive.”

Peter tosses my shoes, like Frisbees, in Rayanne's direction. They spin upward. I spring for the catch.

When I come down, I'm alone. The heat is gone. I shiver in my bathing suit and walk toward the sound of Danny's voice. “Mommy! Come see what we built. It's gr-r-reat!”

“Danny, where are you?”

“Mommy! Look what we built!”

“Mrs. Maller!” I hear Liz Grant call as the sun starts to sink in the ocean. “Come see.”

“Danny! Liz! Joe! Where are you?”

“Come see, Mommy. It's not a castle. Come see.” Danny's voice grows louder. “Where are you, Mommy? Where are you? I need you!”

“Mrs. Maller, I need you.”

I fling off my flip-flops and run to the children.

Joe stands next to them. He pushes me back when I reach for Danny.

“Daddy, show her.”

“Show her,” Liz echoes.

Joe steps aside. “Ta-da!”

“It's my dog, Mommy. Daddy said I can get one.”

“I don't know, Danny. Who's gonna take care of a dog?”

“He will, Mrs. Maller,” Liz says. “Won't you, Danny?”

“Yes. Can I go swimming now?”

“No way, honey. It's getting cold. It'll be dark. It's not safe.”

“Go ahead, Danny.” Joe picks up a stick and scrapes the sand. “Go on and swim if you want. You too, Liz.”

“Okay, Mommy?”

“Okay, Mrs. Maller?”

“No, kids. It's not safe.”

“But Daddy said I could. He said I could get a dog, and he said I could swim.” Danny takes off his shirt. Liz steps out of her cover–up. In the dimming light, I make out hip bones that cap her bikini.

“Come on, Beth. You've got to let him grow up already. He's not a baby.”

“But he's only six.”

“Look. The water's still calm. If it wasn't safe, do you think I'd let him swim?”

“Please, Mommy.” Danny drops his T-shirt on the dog's face. “I'll be careful. Promise.”

Liz takes Danny's hand. They run to the water, laughing as the ocean nips their feet.

“Yikes! It's freezing!” Danny shouts.

“Be careful, Danny!” I call.

Joe tosses Danny's shirt with the stick, then letters D
ANNY'S
D
OG
in the sand. “Let him be, Beth. He's got to grow up.”

“Joe, listen. You hear that?” The ocean churns. “It's dangerous. Go get them!”

“Relax, baby. How 'bout a little time, just us.” Joe pulls me down. “How 'bout it, baby? We've never done it on a beach.”

I push him away. “Listen. The waves. Get Danny! Hurry!”

“Mommy, help! Help!” Danny calls before the ocean swallows him.

“Mrs. Maller, help me!” Liz screams.

Joe rolls down my bathing suit straps.

“Stop it! Get Danny! Get Danny!” I yell.

Joe grabs my shoulders.

In bed in our house in Bay View, I opened my eyes and cringed at Joe's touch.

“Beth, you were calling out in your sleep. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sometimes, I still think, it's better to lie.

Chapter Eleven

J
oe and I went to the diner, where I tried to erase the dream. But Danny and Liz stayed with me. Through my scrim of grief, the diner glowed with loneliness, highlighted by torn seats and the smell of burnt grease. Although the place hadn't changed, its garishness glared, as if I were seeing it for the first time. Artificial light bounced off mirrored walls. Painted flowers on the windows, like elementary school decorations, blocked the outside world.

Our waitress, Penny, hadn't seen us since the accident, and there is no anonymity in Bay View. I accepted her condolences with the coffee she pushed in front of me. “We don't need that,” Joe said when Penny brought a creamer to the table. “She takes it black.”

I used to find comfort in Joe's familiarity with my habits. Immersed in each other's nuances for so long, we often communicated needs without speech. But that night Joe's intimacy irked me. I separated a stack of pancakes and heard Danny's and Liz's cries for help from my dream. As I sipped my coffee, Liz huddled next to Danny in my mind.

“You've got to stop thinking of him every minute,” Joe said, taking a bite of his hamburger. He dipped a fry into ketchup and held it out to me.

I shook my head no. “I wasn't thinking about Danny,” I said. “I was thinking about something at school.” The lie rolled off my
tongue. I focused on scooping butter to the side of my plate, then drank my coffee and swallowed anger with the tepid liquid. So what if I were to admit I was thinking of Danny? Why should I have to apologize? And to Joe, of all people.

He flagged Penny to refill my cup. “Do you want something instead?” she asked when she saw I hadn't eaten. “It's no trouble, really. Let me bring you something else. Some eggs, maybe? A toasted bagel?”

“No, thank you. I'm fine. Just not very hungry.”

Joe ordered apple pie. “So I heard the message from Rayanne,” he said. “What did you tell her about the apartment?”

“Nothing. I haven't called back yet.”

“You know, I don't understand why you still talk to her. All that bragging about how well Andy's doing. And their big apartment in Manhattan. And private school for the boys. Doesn't that bother you? Aren't you just a little sick and tired of hearing how wonderful her life is?”

“I know she's annoying, but Rayanne's been a good friend since college. I can't just forget that.” As I spoke, I looked at Joe, as if watching him on a screen. My celluloid husband, the projection of a man I'd believed I would love forever. It was then I saw the truth: Danny had glued us together, even when we argued about him. And now we were peeling apart.

Joe jabbed his pie. “So, what's happening at school these days?”

I should have lied again. It would have been simple to say everything was fine. But without pause, I reported on Liz. I didn't get far, though.

“You did
what?”
Joe said when I told him I hadn't sent Liz to Debra even when Peter ordered me to. “What's wrong with you, Beth? You're gonna end up losing your job. And for what? She's not even your student, for Christ's sake.” Joe glanced at the check. “And this all started in gym. So I'll bet it has something to do with that gym teacher, Ann Whatever-Her-Name-Is. Didn't I tell you to stay
out of that?” The coffee soured my stomach. How dare Joe tell me what to do at work.

He didn't ease up on the ride home either. “Explain something to me,” he said as we turned onto Main Street. “Why are you doing this?”

I nestled by the window, as far from Joe as I could get. “Doing what?”

“Come on. You know damn well what I mean. You've had such a good career. So why are you intentionally ruining it?”

“I'm not intentionally doing anything. Certainly not ruining my career.” I studied the streetlights and longed for Callie or Dad, who didn't demand explanations and justifications whenever I spoke.