The Year of Ice: A Novel, page 11
Dad says, “I thought I made your entire day, Jackie. Don’t let this smooth-talker steal ya from me.”
Yeah, a hungover guy in his forties who can’t get off the couch all day is any woman’s dream come true. But, hey, Jackie’s thrilled. She mustn’t get much attention. Plus Dad’s acting like they’re back together.
I say, “Well, we’re gonna listen to some tunes.”
Jackie says to our backs, “A pleasure to meet you, Tommy. Kevin, you can bring him over anytime!”
Dad shouts, “Keep that noise down!”
When I shut the door to my bedroom, Tommy says, “She’s kinda weird. Do you like her?”
I shrug. “She makes good cinnamon rolls.”
“So is your dad gonna marry her or something?”
I reach for a Linda Ronstadt album and put it on my record player. “He could do worse. A lot worse.”
Tommy says, “I’m gonna beat the shit outta Rick Foley. He narced me out to Rogers.”
“I know, Rogers made us both go down to his office. Why didn’t you tell your mom you were working the night shift?”
Tommy lies down on the floor and stares up at the ceiling. “She made me quit my last gig because my grades were so piss poor. So I didn’t tell her about this one, I didn’t want the hassle. I need the bucks, man.”
“Why?”
“You gotta promise me you won’t tell anybody.”
“I promise.”
“I mean it, Kevin, this is important.”
“Cool, jeez, relax will ya? I know how to keep a secret.”
So Tommy just blurts out, “Beth’s pregnant.”
Beth is Tommy’s sometimes girlfriend and the only one who will go all the way with him. “You’re shittin’ me!”
Tommy closes his eyes and I think he isn’t bad-looking, I could see how a girl would let him go all the way. He says, “I wish I was. We gotta take care of it fast.”
“She’s gonna have an abortion?”
“No, we’re gonna buy a crib. What the fuck do you think we’re gonna do?”
Years of Mom and Aunt Nora freaking out over the “abortionists” who murder babies come back to me. Tommy’s upset, so I let the fact that betas aren’t supposed to be smart-asses to alphas go. I say, “I dunno.”
Tommy rolls over on his side and leans on his elbow. “I need your help, man. Mom made me quit my gig at the Standard and we’re still like sixty bucks short. I know it’s a lot of money, but can you loan it to me? You know I’m good for it. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
The hundred bucks Dad gave me is still sitting in my sock drawer, along with a couple hundred more from Red Owl. It’d be easy to give him the money.
“You sure you don’t want to have the kid? John Zurakowski and Michele Flanigan kept theirs.” John and Michele graduated from Northeast last year and live in a trailer out in Forest Lake. Michele watches the kid all day and all night, and John goes out on dates with girls who think it’s cool that he’s a dad.
Tommy laughs, but not a ha-ha laugh, it’s more of a boy-are-you-a-nimrod laugh. “I’m not having a kid now! Shit, I’m only seventeen. And I’m especially not having a kid with Beth.”
I say, “Beth’s okay,” even though I’ve only partied with her a couple of times. She could be a skank for all I know.
Tommy laughs at me again. “Man, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I’m not gonna marry Beth. I’m gonna get my mechanic’s license and maybe have some kids in like ten years. Maybe. After I get a Harley and ride cross-country. We were supposed to do that together, remember? You and me and the open road.”
“Yeah, it’s cool, man, relax. I’ll lend you the bucks.”
Tommy sits up. “Yeah? Thanks, man, I owe you big time.”
At the sock drawer I look at the bills carefully. I don’t want to give Tommy any of the ones Dad gave me the day of Mom’s funeral. It’d kill her to know they helped pay for an abortion.
When I give Tommy the money, he gets up and hugs me and slaps me on the back a couple of times, hard, to show he means it. “Thanks, man, I knew you’d come through for me. You’re my main man, Kevin.”
Mom’s spinning in her grave.
MARCH 1978
Jackie Shaw’s over when Allison picks me up for our date. Jackie Shaw’s making Dad a special dinner tonight, steak and fries, so she’s in the kitchen when the doorbell rings.
Dad beats me to the door, he really wants to meet Allison, the first girl I’ve ever had over. I think he thinks I’m afraid of girls or something.
“Well, good evening, young lady,” Dad says ’cause he can be so very charming when he wants to be.
“Good evening, Mr. Doyle, I’m Allison Minczeski.”
Dad says, “Of course you are.” Then he lies: “Kevin’s told me all about you.” Then he lies some more: “He’s really been looking forward to your date tonight.”
I just stand there in the sitting room looking at them. They’re like really in love with who they think I am. I swear Dad is glowing, and Allison, well, she might as well be tripping out like the junkies at The Safe House.
Jackie Shaw practically stampedes into the sitting room. “So this is Allison!” To me she says, “Be a gentleman and take Allison’s coat for her, Kevin. Honestly!”
I just hold my hands out and Allison has to walk over and give it to me. I can’t believe it ’cause Dad walks right behind her and I catch him checking out her ass. It’s really gross; she’s young enough to be his daughter.
Jackie Shaw says, “Oh, don’t you two make a handsome couple. Where are you going for dinner?”
Allison says, “We’re going to the Nankin and then to the Skyway for a movie.”
Jackie Shaw says, “Oooh, Chinese food, that sounds yummy.”
Dad says, “You keep away from that Wanderer’s Punch, it packs a wallop.”
Everyone laughs like Dad’s some sort of comedian instead of a big dork, which is what he’s acting like. Like he’s a better person ’cause his son has a date. With a girl.
Jackie Shaw says, “You look absolutely stunning, Allison. Don’t you think so, Kevin? Doesn’t she look absolutely stunning?”
Okay, I give. “You look absolutely stunning, Allison. Absolutely.”
Jackie Shaw snorts, “Oh, you, last of the great romantics, just like your father.”
Everybody laughs but me.
Jackie Shaw finishes by saying to Allison, “You have to watch out for these Doyle men, they’re not the flowers-and-candy type.”
And half of them aren’t the I-like-girls type.
Allison says, “That’s okay. I should have brought the flowers and candy, I’m the one who asked Kevin out.”
Dad and Jackie Shaw look at each other and I can tell Dad’s embarrassed. Then Jackie Shaw says, “Have a seat, everyone, I whipped up some appetizers to celebrate your big night out on the town.” I can tell Jackie Shaw’s loving this; she never had kids of her own and she’s pretending I’m her son going out with the prom queen. Everybody seems to be really into it.
Dad smiles at Allison, waiting for Jackie Shaw to bring out her pickles rolled up in cream cheese and sliced ham. It’s like he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do when she isn’t in the room to do it for him. Just like old times with Mom.
When Jackie Shaw comes back with her tray, she says, “So, Allison, have you had your eye on Kevin here for a while now?”
I say, “Jeez, knock it off.”
But Jackie Shaw ignores me; she’s having too much fun, and Allison can’t wait to answer. I know jack about women, a lot less than the average guy, but I do know from experience that they love conspiracies. “Oh, you bet! Kevin’s one of the cutest guys at school.”
Dad says, “Kevin, you’re a heartthrob? You never told me! My son, the dreamboat!” and then Dad goes “Ha, ha, ha.”
Allison blushes and Jackie Shaw says, “Pat, stop teasing now. I think it’s sweet that Allison took the bull by the horns. That’s what I love about you young gals today. You do everything that only men were allowed to do.” Jackie Shaw pretends she’s my mom some more and asks Allison, “So, have you made plans for after graduation this June?”
Allison takes a bite of wrapped pickle. “Ooh, these are wonderful!” Jackie Shaw waves her hands, her way of saying it’s nothing special, the least she could do, you’re too kind. Allison wipes her lips and says between chews, “I’ve been accepted at the University of Wisconsin.”
Jackie Shaw looks at me with her eyebrows way up and says, “That’s not a bad drive. You could be there in four or five hours.” Jackie Shaw turns back to Allison and says, “What are you planning on studying?”
Allison says, “Veterinary medicine. I’d like to be a vet and open my own clinic.”
Dad says, “Kevin had a job at an animal hospital one summer, cleaning out the kennels.”
We eat some more pickles with ham and Jackie Shaw and Dad beam at Allison and me. Finally, Jackie Shaw says, “I bet it must be very rewarding to save animals’ lives.”
Allison says, “Oh, yes. But the sad thing is that there are so many unwanted pets. The overpopulation of cats and dogs is a huge problem.”
Dad says, “We had a mutt named Rex when Kevin was growing up. Boy did he love that dog! He used to kiss him right on the lips.”
Jackie Shaw and Allison laugh.
Dad likes making Allison laugh. So he tells about the time I dressed Rex up in a sheet and made believe it was a wedding gown. “He was going to marry that dog. He had him all wrapped up in the white sheet and tried to walk him down the stairs like they were going down the aisle. Only Rex couldn’t keep his footing in that sheet, and he slid down the stairs and crashed right into the landing! That was some wedding, eh?”
Jackie Shaw and Allison laugh so hard they can’t talk.
Dad says, in between laughs, “Remember, Kevin? Remember how you used to play Here Comes the Bride with Rex?”
I stand up and say, “We gotta go.”
Dad says, “He even sang a little song: Here comes the bride, all dressed in pink, open the window and let out the stink!”
Jackie Shaw grabs Dad’s shoulder and practically blows pickles and ham all over him. She goes, “Pat, stop it!”
“We gotta go,” I say again.
Dad pulls himself together, gets up, and slaps me on the back. To show Allison what a great guy he is, real father-in-law material, he says way too loud, “You be a gentleman tonight and treat this young lady right. And don’t stay out too late.”
If it were just us, he’d tell me not to knock her up.
We head toward the door and Dad says, “And no drinking.”
Jackie Shaw says, “You two have fun tonight! Remember, you’re only young once.”
They scrunch up their faces and wave at us like we’re their five-year-olds riding the merry-go-round all by ourselves for the first time. As soon as we’re out the door I know they’re gonna talk about us for the next hour. Glad we could give them something to do.
I finally notice what Allison has on, a short denim skirt with a white blouse. “Aren’t you gonna freeze in that dress?”
She opens the passenger side door for me like she’s the boy. “I prefer style to comfort.”
We’re on Hennepin Avenue heading downtown. There’s all kind of bars downtown, places like Moby Dick’s, the tough bar; and Augies, the strip bar; and Duffs, the dance bar. I haven’t been in any of them.
At the Nankin I want to order the Wanderer’s Punch, but I have a Pepsi, ’cause Allison’s too young to be served. The place is full of white people; there’s no Chinese people at all, except on the staff. This is Minnesota, after all.
Allison says, “Your folks are very nice,” but then she remembers and says, “I mean your dad and his friend are very nice. Your dad’s a real sweet talker.”
“Yeah, it gets him in trouble all the time.”
Allison looks at me like she’s not sure if she should laugh, so she decides to smile sympathetically, like the people did at Mom’s funeral. She says, “I hope I made a good impression on them.”
Even though this is only one of a couple of dates I’ve ever been on, I’m a man, so I know when it’s my cue to say: “Of course you did. You look beautiful tonight.”
Besides, anything in a skirt would of made Dad happy. I could of brought Lorraine home and he would’ve danced a jig. He never said so, but I could tell he was worried about me never going out with girls. Maybe he thinks that I was afraid I’d end up like him, married and not in love. With my wife, I mean.
When our waiter comes, Allison waits for me to order for both of us.
“The sampler platter sounds good,” I tell him.
Allison smiles at me. After a while she says, “You’re always so quiet, Kevin. It makes me kind of nervous, I never know what you’re thinking.”
“Nothing. I’m thinking about nothing.”
She reaches over the table, and after a second or two, I get that I’m supposed to give her my hand. Here, knock yourself out.
She squeezes my fingers and says, “You don’t have to be shy with me.”
This is the other thing I’ve noticed about girls. They think boys are just being shy when we don’t say anything. They’re wrong, we’re not.
“Okay.”
Allison’s fingers are kind of feeling up my hand. “I mean it, you can tell me anything.”
Wrong again.
“I’m fine.”
She looks at me like I’m lying, ’cause I am. “Okay, I believe you. I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”
Got it. Table 14, Nankin Restaurant, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Sometimes I think girls flirt with me ’cause Mom died in a car crash and they want to comfort me. But mostly I think it’s because I’m so hot.
She says, “Thanks for helping me out with Jon the other night. He comes on way too strong.”
“No sweat.”
So that’s the way it goes for the rest of the night. Me sitting there like a lump, which is enough for her. My hand in hers is enough for her. My arm around her shoulder when we walk back to her car is enough for her. I kind of feel sorry for her, so happy with so little. She reminds me of almost every other woman I’ve known. And none of the men.
* * *
Tommy shows up during my shift at Red Owl. He looks kind of strung out, like he’s not sure where he is. I ask Lorraine if she’ll bag for a couple of minutes. I’m not like the other baggers who ditch the checkers all the time for a smoke or to call their girlfriends, so Lorraine says, “Okay, but don’t take all night.” She’s kinda moody tonight ’cause her birthday’s tomorrow and she still doesn’t have a man yet. She wants one even more than I do.
I catch up to Tommy at the dairy case. He’s staring at the Old Home brand cottage cheese. It’s the freshest taste in the dairy case, Old Home.
“Hey, man, what’s happening? Wasn’t today the day?” The day, as Aunt Nora would say, that you were going to murder a poor innocent and send its eternal soul to purgatory?
He remembers where he is. “Hey, Kevin. I was hoping you’d be working tonight.”
I say “Hey” again.
Tommy looks at his boots now. The snow and salt and sand he tracked in is melting and making a brown puddle of slush in aisle seven. He says, “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t have mop duty tonight.”
He tries to smile but it looks all wrong. “Beth didn’t do it.”
Holy shit! “Holy shit!”
Tommy smiles again, this time like the losers on Jeopardy who get sent home with a bottle of Turtle Wax. He says, “We made it to the clinic. They called her in and everything. I sat in the waiting room and after five minutes she’s back out telling me to take her home. I was such a fucking numskull, I go, ‘Jeez, that was fast.’ So she goes, ‘I didn’t do it, ya stupid prick.’ So I take her home. She’s gonna have it. She’s gonna have the baby. It’s this … thing, you know? It’s this person I made. Jesus Christ, Kevin, what the hell am I gonna do?”
Lorraine pages me ’cause she can’t go two seconds without needing help. Her voice is all over the store, “Kevin, register three, Kevin, register three.”
I say, “I don’t know.”
He looks like he’s gonna cry, something I’ve never seen him do, even when we were little kids and I gave him a bloody nose to let him know that I was alpha. He goes, “She said she’s gonna put it up for adoption.”
I try to sound helpful. “That’s cool, right?”
Tommy smirks and does this little half-laugh thing. “I guess. Letting strangers raise my kid just … makes me feel so … I dunno. Like this kid is gonna grow up hating me. And I’ll be all, ‘Oh, I wonder what my son’s up to now?’ You know? If we went through with the abortion we’d be taking care of business, but giving it away is such a cop-out. It’s like we can’t handle it, so we pawn the kid off on somebody else, and he hates us for it.”
For some reason I think, It could be a girl, you know.
Lorraine pages me again, and this time she sounds pissed off.
Tommy looks almost sweet, I want to hold him and tell him everything’s gonna be all right, but that would freak him out worse than Beth having his baby. So my best friend since forever is having this big huge crisis, and I say, “I gotta go; my checker’s freaking out. You want to come over to my house later? Dad’s probably gonna be at his girlfriend’s place.”
Tommy sniffs and whispers, “Cool.”
When I get back to register three, Lorraine’s giving me her look. I give her one back. I shake a bag open and say, “I was doing something important, okay? Nobody’s gonna die if I don’t bag their shit. You don’t have to get all bitchy on me.”
The line of customers tense up and Lorraine says, “They don’t pay you to take care of your personal business on work time. They pay you to do an honest day’s work. You don’t like it, go to Russia.”
* * *
When I get home I pick up the pile of mail and store flyers off the front porch and tell a widow that’s been camped out there that Dad’s not home. Allison’s sent me a card. When I saw the envelope addressed to me I was excited, I thought that maybe it was from Jon or Chuck, but then I saw the return address so now I’m like in this cloud of bogusness.
