Dare Me (25 page)

I feel ashamed.

“Here we go.” Mom hands over gifts to Ginny and me, and then both my parents sit back and watch us open them. Same as we always do.

I was right about the sweater. It’s a nice cable-knit black one. Dad says, “To keep you warm on those deliveries.” I think I may wear it to bed. Other than that, socks and underwear and a gift card, and I’m out. Ginny gets the same, except her sweater is pink. We both say thank you, and I’m glad to hear the effort in Ginny’s voice matches my own.

My parents normally exchange their gifts to each other, but instead they stare at us. Then Dad realizes. “Oh, right. Your mother and I aren’t exchanging this year.” Pain spreads across his face.

“Right.” Ginny and I both hop off the couch and distribute our gifts. My parents don’t look us in the eyes, and I feel somehow like I’m handing presents to charity cases.

We sit back down and open Ginny’s gifts first. She got me a College Survival kit, filled with things like earplugs, a shower tote, and a collapsible hamper. I wonder when she bought it, because if she still has hope for me making it away for school, she might not be as bright as we believe.

“Isn’t that adorable,” Mom says.

“Wish I’d had one,” Dad says.

I say thank you but Ginny gives me one of her lifted eyebrow stares.

She bought my mother perfume and my father a portfolio. He chokes up.

“I knew you’d get back on your feet,” she says and he gets up and hugs her and it’s so damn sweet I hate myself.

They move onto my gifts and Ginny actually gasps. “No shit? Where’d you get this?”

She’s holding up a copy of some rare book by this guy G. Stanley Hall. Apparently he’s important in adolescent psychology. There’s a book dealer in town who orders a calzone every Friday and helped me find it. “I have my connections,” I answer, and Ginny punches my arm. She’s shocked, and it’s awesome.

Mom opens her gift, this cashmere sweater I’ve seen her looking at in one of her many catalogs. “Benny, this is . . . perfect.” She holds it up to Dad and he nods, but then looks at me quizzically before opening his own present.

He stares for a long moment but holds up the monogrammed desk nameplate. It’s mahogany and has a slot for his business cards. He shakes his head and chokes out a thank you. They all stare at me and I feel hot and uncomfortable.

“Ben, how did you? The expense? Where did you get the money?” Mom’s stroking her sweater, and I don’t think she realizes it. Dad’s staring at his nameplate, but Ginny looks up from the book she’s been leafing through.

The answer is of course from the dares. These purchases didn’t make a dent in what I have saved, but I can’t say that. “Good tips, I guess.”

Dad bursts out laughing. He realizes the abruptness of it and puts a hand to his mouth but continues to giggle. “All this time I’ve been out of work I should have been delivering pizzas.”

Mom and Ginny laugh along with him and Ginny punches me again, giving me eyes that reveal she knows where the cash is from.

“Christ, I could have bought the house back if I went and worked for Chuck.” Dad laughs harder at his joke and I don’t mean to, but I say it.

“You could get the house back now. It’s for sale.”

All laughter stops. The only noise comes from the crackle of the fireplace and the low din of the Christmas music in the background.

“What did you say?” Dad’s voice is low and almost ugly.

“The house. It’s back on the market.” I turn away from him but looking at Ginny doesn’t help. She stares with more intensity than Mom.

“What? How do you know?” Dad’s edged closer on his seat.

“I was making deliveries and saw the sign.” I leave out the part about Chuck. I don’t think it will help the situation.

Dad looks into his lap and then runs his tongue over his lips. “How long?”

“What do you mean?”

“How long has it been on the market?” Dad snaps, and all the festivity is drained from the room.

“Joe, let’s not do this now.” Mom reaches over and grabs his arm.

He doesn’t notice. “How long?”

“I saw the sign last week.”

“Last week? Jesus, why didn’t you tell me?”

I can feel Ginny’s eyes boring into the side of my face, probably wondering how I’ll handle this. But in spite of my grades, I’m not stupid, just distracted by life. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to know.”

“Why wouldn’t I want . . .” Dad stops short. We all know what he was about to say, and we all know why I didn’t tell him. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. We each look in different directions. A moment later he stands. “I’m going for a walk.”

Mom reaches out to him. “Joe, don’t. Not now. It’s Christmas.”

“I won’t be long. Besides, we aren’t doing anything else, are we?”

His words cut us all, because, no, we aren’t. Normally we might install the newest video or electronics or whatever big gift we received. But there are no big gifts this year.

He re-emerges wearing a face of determination. I know exactly where he’s going and can only imagine his reaction. Maybe he’ll have more success with the sign.

The door closes behind him, and Mom moves to the window to watch him go. She turns back to us and I expect anger, but her eyes dart instead, pure worry. She grabs her mug, moves to the liquor cabinet, and pours in a hefty amount of sambuca. She settles back on the couch and stares at the fire. Ginny nods toward the stairs and Mom doesn’t look up at us when we move away.

Ginny’s room is much warmer than mine and I’m jealous, but there’s no time for that.

“What did you did you do that for?”

“I didn’t mean to. Really. It just popped out.”

She gives me a dirty look and sits on her bed, crosses her arms over her chest. I take a seat on the floor.

“Shit, I was getting somewhere too,” she says.

“With the house or the other?”

“The house. I still don’t have anything on whomever is paying you. But obviously you’re making money.” She looks down at me. “Seriously, how much did you spend?”

“Couple hundred,” I mumble.

“Jesus, Ben. That’s more than our gifts combined.”

I feel ashamed. I just didn’t think. I know we’ve been up against it, but we downsized and Dad started working again. How long does it take to get out of debt and start earning? Shit, I don’t really want to know the answer to that. “So, the house?”

Ginny sighs. “Yeah. Right. It’s been foreclosed. Apparently whoever bought it never made any payments and the bank didn’t waste any time. It foreclosed and is now trying to unload the house.”

“Why didn’t they call us?”

Ginny looks at me like I’ve hurled on her floor. “Really? How often do you think people who just sold their house want to buy it back?”

I shrug because I have no idea, but these days, maybe more than she thinks.

“Exactly. So the house will either get sold at the asking price or . . . it will most likely go to auction.”

“Huh?”

“People aren’t buying. Especially not down in the village. They want homes up here, in the new section. So the bank will wait and then turn the house over to auction and take the best bid, granted it’s enough.”

“Like on eBay?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“When does that happen?”

“Hard to know. Maybe in a couple of months.” She shakes her head. “Why, you thinking about putting in a bid?”

Ginny smirks and I want to smack her. Does she not realize what I’m pulling in? Give me a few more dares and I’ll have some serious cash. “How much would it take, you know, to bid?”

“You serious?”

“Yeah.”

She blows air out her mouth. “Ten to twenty percent of the mortgage up front. The house will sell at most for two-hundred thousand, so twenty to forty grand.”

She’s done her homework. I think how long that might take. If we do well over the next two or three dares, I could have twenty. We’ll need more hits, but I’m sure Ricky will be on board. I guess I’ve made my decision about O. P., too.

“I could swing that. Couple of months.”

Ginny squints at me like I’m something that’s blossomed out of her carpet. “For real? How much do you have now?”

“Close to twelve grand.”

Her eyes bug. “You’re seriously making
that much mone
y
?”

I nod.

Ginny runs her hands over her legs. “Then I guess it’s possible. But what about school? You won’t have to worry about student loans. Pay for your college. Do you know how happy that would make them?”

She’s got a point. I close my eyes and imagine telling them I’ve saved up and will pay for college—that is if that’s what I want. We celebrate that fact, but we do so in this condo. Then I imagine telling them I’ve got them the house back. They lose their fucking minds. “I don’t know if I want that.”

“Ben, don’t be an ass. Please, you doing this could be a step toward being responsible.”

“Stop.”

Ginny opens her mouth.

“No! Stop!”

She looks at me, eyes pinched.

“Let me do what I’m going to do with my money.”

“That’s selfish, Ben.”

“How? I’m helping either way.”

Ginny stares for a moment and turns away. We don’t talk for a bit, but finally Ginny says, “You’re right, it’s your money. I’ll keep an eye on the house if you want, talk to the bank and ask to be kept updated.”

“Yeah. That sounds good. Thanks.”

She wants to say more, but maybe because it’s Christmas, or maybe because I’m finally being fully honest with her, she lets it go.

—

Dad came back
a little over an hour after leaving, red-faced and dazed. By then Mom was a bit tipsy and she collapsed in a heap of tears in his arms. He dutifully hugged her and set her on the couch. He walked away mumbling and has been in their room since. I’ve heard him on their computer, probably reconfiguring their finances spreadsheet. I’ve seen it before, but I’m sure it looks so much more different now. More money going out than coming in. God, I wish I could tell him, but I can’t. Not now. Not until I have the cash in hand and we can make heads or tails about the house.

“Dinner!” Mom calls and I set down the magazine I was flipping through. She’s been cooking for most of the day and the condo smells like our home used to. But like on Thanksgiving, instead of the dining room, we have a space in the corner near the tiny kitchen, where the table sits on the ugly carpet and the chairs have barely enough clearance.

I move to my seat. “Looks fantastic!” And it does. She went all out making the traditional feast. But it’s awkward in this setting. Even more so than Thanksgiving.

Ginny emerges and sits. “Smells great, Mom.” She’s super chipper but Mom keeps looking at their bedroom door, which is still closed.

“I’ll go,” I say, and before she can tell me no, I’m knocking on the door. “Dad, it’s me. Time for dinner.” He answers but it’s muffled by the door. “What?” I ask. He repeats himself, but I still don’t understand. Fuck this. I push the door open.

As expected, he’s hunched in front of their computer on the little card table he uses for a desk. He whips around in his chair. “I said I’m not coming. Go, eat!” He turns back around and I squeeze the doorknob.

I’m so pissed at myself for starting this, but it’s not my fault it happened.

“Dad, it’s Christmas. Leave it be for now. Mom’s worked hard, you know?”

He laughs, but it’s not a cheery, Christmas jolly sound. No, it’s bitter and Grinch-like. “I’m sure she has. On a meal we can’t afford,
but that she had to have, because it’s Christmas
.”

He never talks about her like this and I feel like backing away and leaving the beast in his cage.

“And you with your gifts and news about the house. Don’t go telling me to
leave it be
. My own son’s got more things figured out than I do.” He’s turned around now and springs from his chair. “Here,” he points at the computer. “You think you can do better? Have a seat. Crunch the numbers. Help me figure it out.”

“Dad, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to buy you all something nice and figured you’d want to hear about the house.”

“Of course I do! You think I like living here after I worked so goddamn hard to keep that place in shape? Fuck, no!”

He takes a deep breath and I’m glad, because he’s more upset than I’ve ever seen him and I’m afraid for what’s next.

“But now, to think that it’s out there, just beyond my reach. That’s adding insult to injury. I worked my balls off for twenty years and what did I get? Nothing. They teased me with the idea of some transfer and then tossed me out. And now I’m clawing back, like when I first started. But when I first started I could make that house a reality. Now . . .” he takes another breath and his face falls. He seems to lose all his energy and sits heavily in the chair. “Now there’s no way, and I hurt all over. I never saw this coming, Ben.”

I’ve got nothing in response. I can’t speak, can’t move. Don’t know how to react. Cry? Yell? I can’t make this any better in this moment than he can, but I feel like I need to. So I cross the room and put a hand on his shoulder. I don’t say anything. I stay there and wait. He takes his time collecting himself, breathing slow and holding it for a long time. Then he says, “I’m okay.”

I release my hand and he stands, rubs his eyes.

“I tried ripping down the sign,” I say.

He holds out his palms. They’re red and bruised. “I succeeded.” He grips my neck and we walk out together.

—

I text Alexia
and wish her a Happy New Year but don’t receive a reply. I’m not surprised. Based on her Facebook statuses and Tweets, Jesse’s trying to rekindle things, but it also seems as if her dad’s getting in the way. Awesome.

My own father’s been quiet but stable. I know he’s turning over the facts, looking for an answer. Ginny’s intelligence isn’t a random occurrence.

I walk over to Chantel’s because we’re supposed to have an evening “just for us.” We exchanged gifts on Christmas, but her house was packed with relatives who mostly ignored us. They were all rich businessmen talking about investments and opportunities. I wanted even less to do with them than they did with me.

But tonight her parents are at a party, so I get to see where we stand. I ring the doorbell.