Breakfast with Neruda (26 page)

He shrugs and follows me out back. He halts when he sees Annie. My sleeping sister is spread out on the lawn chair, wrapped in a battered quilt. She is surrounded by a dresser, a nightstand with a kerosene lamp on top, and the screen, as if Annie is a character onstage and this is her set.

“Jesus Christ!” he mutters.

We tiptoe carefully up the steps so as not to wake Annie, but the screech of the storm door rouses her. She half opens her eyes. “Hey, Michael.” She sits up abruptly when she notices Earl behind me.

“He figured out I was living in my car,” I say. “I had to explain why.”

I shove the back door open and the wretched odor hits me. I glance at Earl, who has followed me in. I wish I had thought to bring masks.

He scans the kitchen, taking in the stacks of dirty dishes, opened boxes of food, and pillars of junk. “That's some smell,” he says. He yanks the refrigerator door open and there is more black mold than food. “Jesus,” he mutters and slams it shut. He lifts his boot. “Is the floor always this wet?”

“Not that I know of.” The fridge is surrounded by a half-inch-deep moat.

“Well, something's sprung a leak.” He stamps his boot free of water. “Fire hazard.” He reaches behind and unplugs the fridge. Earl heads toward the living room, holding his hands close to his body. His eyes travel around the room as if he's studying cathedral walls. “Are all the rooms like this one?” he asks.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“How long has it been like this?”

“It started getting unlivable a couple years ago.”

“That when your brother moved out?” Earl asks. I nod.

Earl pulls out his cell phone, one of those old-fashioned types you have to flip open. He punches in a number. “Dot? Get two rooms ready. He has a younger sister. Okay. Bye.” He shoves the phone back in his pocket and eyes me. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

Annie is dressed and has stowed the lawn chair when Earl and I come back outside.

“Pack your bags, kid,” Earl says to her. “You're coming home with us.”

Dot sets enough food on the table for dinner to feed a small planet: a whole chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, corn, biscuits, and butter.

“Eat up, kids,” Dot says, as we sit around the food-laden table.

Annie and I fill our plates and chew quietly, listening to Earl tell his wife about our workday. “So we have a whole string of running toilets in the boys' locker room,” he says. “Damn things are self-flushers, and half the time they go ape shit and won't stop.” He gnaws at a drumstick and sets it back on his plate, wipes his mouth with the napkin, and continues. “How stupid are people now that they can't flush their own toilets?” He shakes his head. “A big damned waste of water if you ask me.”

After Earl had loaded my sister's bags in his truck he brought her back to school with us. Annie worked with Hess and Shelly scouring the girls' locker room, and Earl and I cleaned the boys'. He muttered under his breath the whole time. I kept my mouth shut.

When Shelly, Annie, and I went out for lunch, Annie said, “How are we going to tell Mom?”

“I don't know.”

“Do you think she'll be pissed?”

“Maybe,” I said, “but Earl's pretty persuasive.”

At home, Earl is still Earl, but a softer version. Dot just nods and smiles when he sputters his opinions. They've been married since dinosaurs roamed the earth, so I guess she's used to him.

Annie and I carry our plates to the kitchen and offer to do dishes.

“That's what the dishwasher is for,” Dot says. “Go sit on the porch and I'll bring you each a dish of ice cream.”

Earl lives in a big old ]house with an enormous front porch. The house is only about ten minutes from school, but it feels like we are out in the country.

I sit in one of the rocking chairs and scan the green acreage around us. Annie rocks in the chair next to mine. “I never want to leave here,” she says. “But I'm going to worry about Mom.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.”

We rock in unison for a bit. “I feel like we've been dropped into an episode of
The Waltons
,” I say. Our mom loved that show and used to make us watch reruns of it when we were kids.

Annie rocks and smiles, but it's a sad, wistful smile, a smile that says she will be making a hard choice if our mother begs her to come home.

“Maybe your leaving will be the catalyst she needs to finally get help,” I say.

Annie's eyes fill up. “I hope so.”

The painted slats of the porch floor creak under us as we rock. “Do you think she's noticed your absence yet?”

“Hard to tell,” my sister says. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “I sometimes wonder if she knows I'm there at all.”

Earl steps out onto the porch. He is holding three bowls of ice cream and hands one to each of us. “Homemade peach,” he says.

Annie takes a bite. “This is awesome.”

“Like eating bites of heaven,” I say.

Earl snickers. “Dot knows a way to a man's heart is through his stomach,” he says. “Had a heck of a time getting our kids to move out 'cause of Dot's cooking.”

“He tried to get me to stop feeding them,” Dot says, as she steps outside. Dot pats Earl's back and sits on the porch swing.

Earl sits down next to her. “They lost their usefulness when they started high school,” he says. “Dating, jobs, and all that. It was like pulling teeth to get them to do their chores.”

“And you miss them terribly every day,” Dot says.

Earl shrugs and shovels some more ice cream in his mouth.

“Foster still lives nearby, and they bring their kids out every Sunday,” Dot says. “They have two boys.” She looks at Annie. “You might know Conner. He's a freshman too.”

Annie thinks for a second. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I hadn't made the connection.”

Dot and Earl swing slowly. “Most of this damned town is related,” Earl says. “About half the teachers and kids at school are relatives of one or both of us.”

“Earl and I were high school sweethearts,” Dot says.

Earl puts his arm around his wife. “And we're still sweethearts.”

Dot rests her head on Earl's shoulder.

• • •

Annie's and my rooms are next to one another with a shared bathroom. Annie cried when she first sat on her new bed and surveyed the sparkling, feminine space. “This was our daughter Jane's room,” Dot had said. “But you rearrange it however you like, hon.”

My room is their youngest son Foster's old room, and it, too, is clean and inviting. As it starts to get dark, I haul the rest of my stuff upstairs. I hang up a couple shirts and put my clean socks and underwear in the drawers. It's been a long, long time since I have been able to do that.

I hear Annie rattling around in her room, and I knock on her door. She yells for me to come in.

“Hey, how's it going?” I can see she has not changed the arrangement, only set a couple of her things on the dresser.

She sits on the bed. “It feels weird to actually have a bed again.”

I nod. “Do you want me to go talk to Mom tomorrow?” I ask. “Or should we go talk to her together?”

“I'd love it if you came with me,” Annie says. She runs her hands across the flowered bedspread. “I can't fully enjoy any of this until I know she's okay, you know?”

I nod. “I'll pick you up when I'm done with my shift at school. Get some sleep."

I saunter back to my own room. It's been at least a decade since I've had a bedroom comfortable enough for restful sleep.

I figure I'll lie awake all night thinking, but I sleep like a mummy. Earl and Dot actually have chickens that act as feathered alarm clocks at 5:30 in the morning. It's weird waking up in a real bed. I stretch my arms up completely over my head. Funny how a simple thing like being able to stretch my arms makes me feel so grateful.

I hear footsteps below, and Earl and Dot's muffled conversation. A few minutes later I smell coffee and bacon.

I get up and pee, brush my teeth, and wash my face. I run into Annie in the hallway; she is holding a towel and a change of clothes. “How'd you sleep?” I ask.

“Great,” she says. “At first it felt too quiet, but it was nice not to have to hear raccoons knocking over trashcans.”

I sniff the air. I smell eggs and toast along with the bacon. “I think you and I will get fat living here.”

She laughs and closes the bathroom door behind her. After I dress, I race downstairs toward the food. Earl sits behind the newspaper with a coffee mug in front of him. Dot stands at the stove, scrambling eggs.

“Smells great in here,” I say.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Dot says. “Help yourself to coffee.”

I sit down across from Earl with my mug. “Sleep okay, kid?” he asks from behind the paper.

“I did. Thank you.”

Earl slides the sports section my way, and we read in comfortable silence until Dot places a plate of breakfast in front of each of us. Earl folds the paper and starts eating. Dot joins us with a plate.

“Annie takes forever to get ready,” I say.

“Girls always do,” Earl says.

I take a bite. “These are the best eggs I have ever eaten,” I say.

“They're fresh from our hens,” Dot says. “Nothing beats free-range eggs. Happy chickens produce good eggs.”

It occurs to me I will miss breakfast with Shelly. I left my phone upstairs, so I can't text her. She knows I'm here, but I hate the thought of her standing around alone outside the building. As if Earl reads my mind, he glances at his watch and says, “Better finish up so you can meet your girlfriend.”

I feel myself blush, and I shovel the food in my mouth. After I thank Dot for breakfast and leave to go upstairs, I hear Earl yell, “Don't be late, kid. Eight
A.M.
!”

I smile and shake my head.

Shelly stands at the back fence, smoking as usual. She waves as I pull up. When I step out of my car, she says, “Neruda! You don't look like feral cat. Sleeping in a house agrees with you.”

I chuckle and kiss her. “Good morning to you too.”

“So, how is life living with Earl?”

“His wife is real nice,” I say. I pat my stomach. “And she's the best cook in the world.”

“So you've already eaten?”

“Yeah, but I can take you somewhere. I'll have a cup of coffee.”

As we pull away from the school, Shelly asks, “Is Earl any different at home?”

“Not really. He has that gruff exterior, but he's a pussycat underneath.”

“He takes in strays,” Shelly says, “so he's got a soft spot somewhere.” I nod. “How is Annie doing?”

“She really likes it there, but she's worried about our mom.”

“How do you think she'll react? Do you think she's noticed Annie's gone?”

I shrug. “Hard to tell. I mean, she barely noticed when I left. Annie left a note, but Mom may not even find it. How could she, with all that stuff?”

“But she will notice eventually, right?”

“Yeah. Hopefully she won't freak out. Annie's worried this could take Mom over the edge.”

“Or it could force her to get some help.”

“Maybe,” I say. “Earl and Dot plan to meet with her and talk her into letting them get custody of Annie.” We pull into Steak 'n Shake. “Did you know Earl takes in foster kids?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Dot says they started fostering kids after their own moved out.” I am just about to get out of the car when I notice Rick and Ashley. “Shit!” I slam my door shut and put the key in the ignition.

“What's the matter?” Shelly asks.

“I can't deal with him.” I point to Rick sitting in a booth near the window.

“So every time you see him, you're going to get back in your car and drive away?” she says. “You know Rooster is a small town, and you two will run into one another.”

I still have my hand on the key ready to turn it. Then I sit back and run my hands through my hair and groan. I hate to admit she's right.

“Neruda, I don't know Rick,” Shelly says, “but it seems he's forgiven you. Maybe you haven't forgiven yourself.”

“Why would I need to forgive myself?”

“For being an asshat.”

“Like he wasn't?”

“Okay, you're both idiots,” she says.

“I have nothing to say to him.” I glance at her. “And besides, he's spreading lies about you.”

She scrunches her face. “Who isn't? I'm over it.” She pulls the keys out of the ignition. “I'm hungry, so let's go inside and sit down.”

I groan and step out of the car. Shelly and I stroll inside hand in hand as I try not to look in Rick and Ashley's direction. The only free table is a booth near them. Shelly pulls me toward it and we sit.

I hide behind my menu, and Shelly kicks at my feet. “Stop it,” I mutter.

“He's looking this way,” she whispers. “It's pretty obvious you're ignoring him.”

The waitress blocks Rick from view. I take my time looking over the menu even though I have already eaten breakfast. Shelly orders her meal and glares at me. “We don't have all day, Neruda.”

I close my menu. “I'll just have a cup of coffee.”

After the waitress walks away, Shelly calls me an ass. She slides out of the booth, and before I can stop her, she walks to Rick and Ashley's table. She looks directly at Rick. “Okay, you guys need to kiss and make up because
he
,” she points back at me, “is driving me nuts.”

“So is Rick,” Ashley says.

I roll my eyes. I can't even get up and leave because Shelly still has my keys. Rick sighs and sets down his fork. He throws up his hands in defeat and strides to my table. He sits across from me as Shelly claims Rick's place at the table across from Ashley.