Eleanor & Park (27 page)

yelled. ‘If I knew that you wanted

boxes for Christmas, I would have

saved myself some money.’

That

silenced

everyone.

Nobody had expected Richie to

buy Christmas presents. ‘I should

make you wait until Christmas

morning,’ he said, ‘but I’m sick of

watching this.’

He put his cigarette in his

mouth and put his boots on. They

heard the truck door open, and

then Richie was back with a big

ShopKo bag. He started throwing

boxes onto the floor.

‘Mouse,’ he said. A remote-

control monster truck.

‘Ben.’ A big racetrack.

‘Maisie … cause you like to

sing.’

Richie

pulled

out

a

keyboard, an actual electronic

keyboard. It was probably some

off-brand, but still. He didn’t drop

it on the floor. He handed it to

Maisie.

‘And Little Richie … where’s

Little Richie?’

‘He’s taking a nap,’ their mom

said.

Richie shrugged and threw a

teddy bear onto the floor. The bag

was empty, and Eleanor felt cold

with relief.

Then Richie took out his

wallet and pulled out a bill.

‘Here, Eleanor, come get it.

Buy

yourself

some

normal

clothes.’

She looked at her mother,

standing

blank-faced

in

the

kitchen doorway, then walked

over to take the money. It was a

fifty.

‘Thank you.’ Eleanor said it as

flatly as possible. Then she went

to sit on the couch. The little kids

were all opening their presents.

‘Thanks, Dad,’ Mouse kept

saying. ‘Oh man, thanks, Dad!’

‘Yeah,’ Richie said, ‘you’re

welcome. You’re welcome. That’s

a real Christmas.’

Richie stayed home all day to

watch the little kids play with their

toys. Maybe the Broken Rail

wasn’t open on Christmas Eve.

Eleanor went to her bedroom to

get away from him. (And to get

away

from

Maisie’s

new

keyboard.) She was tired of

missing Park. She just wanted to

see him. Even if he
did
think she

was a perverted psychopath who

wrote herself badly punctuated

threats. Even if he
had
spent his

formative years tongue-kissing

Tina. None of it was vile enough

to make Eleanor stop wanting

him. (How vile would that have to

be? she wondered.) Maybe she

should just go over to his house

right now and pretend that nothing

had happened. Maybe she would,

if it wasn’t Christmas Eve. Why

didn’t Jesus ever work
with
her?

Later, her mom came in to say

they were going to the store to buy

groceries for Christmas dinner.

‘I’ll come out and watch the

kids,’ Eleanor said.

‘Richie wants us all to go,’ her

mom said, smiling, ‘as a family.’

‘But, Mom …’

‘None of this, Eleanor,’ she

said softly, ‘we’re having a good

day.’

‘Mom, come on – he’s been

drinking all day.’

Her mom shook her head.

‘Richie’s fine, he never has a

problem with driving.’

‘I don’t think the fact that he

drinks and drives all the time is a

very good argument.’

‘You just can’t stand this, can

you?’ her mom said quietly,

angrily, stepping into the room

and shutting the door behind her.

‘Look,’ she said, ‘I know that

you’re going through …’ She

looked at Eleanor, then shook her

head again. ‘
Something
. But

everyone else in this house is

having a great day. Everyone else

in this house deserves a great day.

‘We’re a family, Eleanor. All

of us. Richie, too. And I’m sorry

that makes you so unhappy. I’m

sorry that things aren’t perfect

here all the time for you … But

this is our life now. You can’t

keep throwing tantrums about it,

you

can’t

keep

trying

to

undermine this family – I won’t

let
you.’

Eleanor clenched her jaw.

‘I have to think of everyone,’

her

mom

said.

‘Do

you

understand? I have to think of

myself. In a few years, you’ll be

on your own, but Richie is my

husband.’

She almost sounded sane,

Eleanor thought. If you didn’t

know that she was acting rational

on the far side of crazy.

‘Get up,’ her mother said, ‘and

put on your coat.’

Eleanor put on her coat and

her new hat and followed her

brothers and sisters into the back

of the Isuzu.

When they got to Food 4 Less,

Richie waited in the truck while

everybody else went in. As soon

as they were inside, Eleanor put

the wadded-up fifty in her

mother’s hand.

Her mother didn’t thank her.

Park

They were shopping for Christmas

dinner, and it was taking forever

because it always made Park’s

mom nervous to cook for his

grandmother.

‘What

kind

of

stuffing

Grandma like?’ his mom asked.

‘Pepperidge Farm,’ Park said,

standing on the back of the cart

and popping a wheelie.

‘Pepperidge Farm original? Or

Pepperidge Farm cornbread?’

‘I don’t know, original.’

‘If you don’t know, don’t tell

me … Look,’ she said, looking

over his shoulder. ‘There’s your

Eleanor.’

El-la-no
.

Park whipped around and saw

Eleanor standing by the meat case

with all four of her red-headed

brothers and sisters. (Except none

of them had red hair standing next

to Eleanor. Nobody did.) A

woman walked up to the cart and

set down a turkey.

That must be Eleanor’s mom,

Park thought, she looked just like

her. But sharper and with more

shadows. Like Eleanor, but taller.

Like Eleanor, but tired. Like

Eleanor, after the fall.

Park’s mom was staring at

them, too.

‘Mom,

come

on,’

Park

whispered.

‘Aren’t you going to say hi?’

she asked.

Park shook his head, but

didn’t turn away. He didn’t think

Eleanor would want him to, and

even if she did, he didn’t want to

get her in trouble. What if her

stepdad was here, too?

Eleanor

looked

different,

drabber than usual. There was

nothing hanging from her hair or

magpie-tied to her wrists …

She still looked beautiful. His

eyes missed her as much as the

rest of him. He wanted to run to

her and tell her – tell her how

sorry he was and how much he

needed her.

She didn’t see him.

‘Mom,’ he whispered again,

‘come on.’

Park thought his mom might say

something more about it in the

car, but she was quiet. When they

got home, she said she was tired.

She asked Park to bring in the

groceries, then she spent the rest

of the afternoon in her room with

the door closed.

His dad went in to check on

her at dinner time, and an hour

later, when they both came out,

his dad said they were going to

Pizza

Hut

for

dinner.

‘On

Christmas Eve?’ Josh said. They

always had waffles and watched

movies on Christmas Eve. They’d

already rented
Billy Jack
. ‘Get in

the car,’ his dad said. Park’s

mom’s eyes were red, and she

didn’t bother reapplying her eye

makeup before they left.

When they got home, Park

went straight to his room. He just

wanted to be alone to think about

seeing Eleanor – but his mom

came in a few minutes later. She

sat on his bed without making a

single wave.

She held out a Christmas

present. ‘This … is for your

Eleanor,’ she said. ‘From me.’

Park looked at the gift. He

took it, but shook his head.

‘I don’t know if I’ll have a

chance to give it to her.’

‘Your Eleanor,’ she said, ‘she

come from big family.’

Park shook the present gently.

‘I come from big family,’ his

mom said. ‘Three little sisters.

Three little brothers.’ She held out

her hand, as if she were patting six

heads.

She’d had a wine cooler with

dinner, and you could tell. She

almost never talked about Korea.

‘What were their names?’ Park

asked.

His mom’s hand settled gently

in her lap.

‘In big family,’ she said,

‘everything … everybody spread

so thin. Thin like paper, you

know?’ She made a tearing

gesture. ‘You know?’

Maybe two wine coolers.

‘I’m not sure,’ Park said.

‘Nobody gets enough,’ she

said. ‘Nobody gets what they

need. When you always hungry,

you get hungry in your head.’ She

tapped her forehead. ‘You know?’

Park wasn’t sure what to say.

‘You don’t know,’ she said,

shaking her head. ‘I don’t want

you to know … I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said.

‘I’m

sorry

for

how

I

welcomed your Eleanor.’

‘Mom, it’s okay. This isn’t

your fault.’

‘I don’t think I say this right

…’

‘It’s okay, Mindy,’ Park’s dad

said softly from the doorway.

‘Come to bed, honey.’ He walked

over to the bed and helped Park’s

mom up, then stood with his arm

wrapped protectively around her.

‘Your mom just wants you to be

happy,’ he said to Park. ‘Don’t

puss out on our account.’

His mother frowned, like she

wasn’t sure whether that counted

as a dirty word.

Park waited until the TV was off

in his parents’ room. Then he

waited a half-hour after that. Then

he grabbed his coat and slipped

out the back door, on the far side

of the house.

He ran until he got to the end

of the alley.

Eleanor was so close.

Her stepdad’s truck was in the

driveway. Maybe that was good;

Park wouldn’t want him coming

home while Park was standing

there on the front porch. All the

lights were off, as far as Park

could tell, and there was no sign

of the dog …

He climbed the steps as quietly

as possible.

He knew which room was

Eleanor’s. She’d told him once

that she slept by the window, and

he knew she had the top bunk. He

stood to the side of the window,

so he wouldn’t cast a shadow. He

was going to tap softly, and if

anyone but Eleanor looked out, he

was going to run for his life.

Park tapped the top of the

glass. Nothing happened. The

curtain, or the sheet or whatever it

was, didn’t move.

She was probably sleeping. He

tapped a little harder and got ready

to run. The side of the sheet

opened just a sliver, but he

couldn’t see in.

Should he run? Should he

hide?

He stepped in front of the

window. The sheet opened wider.

He could see Eleanor’s face, she

looked terrified.

‘Go,’ she mouthed.

He shook his head.

‘Go,’ she mouthed again. Then

she pointed away. ‘School,’ she

said. At least that’s what he

thought she said. Park ran away.

Eleanor

All Eleanor could think was that if

somebody

were

breaking

in

through
this
window, how was

she supposed to escape and call

911?

Not that the police would even

come after last time. But at least

she could wake that bastard Gil up

and eat his goddamn brownies.

Park was the last person she

expected to see standing there.

Her heart leapt out to him

before she could stop it. He was

going to get them both killed.