Soft and Low, page 19
“Does it hurt that much?” I started to reach for his leg, as if I could heal it with my touch or something.
“No, it’s a lot better. The swelling is way down. But do you know how interested women are in guys with an injury? Everyone wants to make me feel better,” he told me, grinning.
“For crying out loud, Ian.” I laughed. He seemed to be in a better mood than he had been for the past few days. “What about Maryam? Is she interested in making you feel better?”
He shrugged. “Whatever. I’m interested in older, mature women. I think they understand me more.”
I held in the urge to gag. “If you’re talking about Ilsa Brody…” I knew he had been in contact with her that week to talk about math.
“She’s amazing, Wr—Rebecca! Like, she’s so smart.” He sang Ilsa’s praises as we watched his team start running sprints. Ian waved to them and told them to go faster a few times, and they flipped him off.
“I’m glad she’s helping you with your school stuff,” I said carefully. “But remember that she’s a lot older. Like, a lot.”
“Same age difference as between you and Digger.”
Well, he had me there. “I just mean, your place in life is pretty different.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work.”
I sighed inwardly. I didn’t want him to get hurt, all over again. “I heard Mom is going to a book club,” I mentioned, to change the subject.
“Really? I haven’t seen her much around the house.” Our father had been coming in later and later from work and it seemed like Ian was spending most of his time alone. He said he liked it, being away from both of them. “That’s good that she’s doing something new, right?”
“Yeah, I’m really glad she’s out having fun,” I said, and the words sounded snide and vicious. My anger had bubbled up and I tried to calm it down. “I shouldn’t be mad at her. She’s a victim of him, too.” I was acting like Margot, blaming the wrong person. “Never mind. I’ll talk to her soon and see how she’s doing.” I paused, wondering how I could broach the next topic. Better to give it to him straight. “I talked to a lawyer about you yesterday.”
Ian’s eyes jerked to me. “Yeah?”
“It would be difficult, but we may be able to act legally to get you out of the house. It’s going to take time.” And a lot of money. Digger’s money, since at present, I didn’t have any of my own. I had wanted to start looking for a job outside of the garage but he had convinced me to lie low for a while longer, until we were both very comfortable that my father was going leave me alone. I hadn’t had any contact with my father since that day in his office, but I knew how he held grudges. He never forgot a slight against him.
Ian stared at the basketball court. “It’s ok, Wreck. Rebecca. It’s ok if it’s not going to work.”
“Ian, it’s not ok with me. I love you and I want you with me, wherever I am.” I tried not to get emotional in the school gym and also restrained myself from grabbing him and hugging him in front of his team. “I love you so much. I don’t want you to think that I’m forgetting you, leaving you behind.”
“I know you’re not. You text me fifty times a day.” He cleared his throat. “I love you too.” His voice sounded gruff. I changed the subject to the latest repairs on Digger’s house so we could both calm down.
As the team captain ran everyone through some drills, Evan, Ian’s coach, sat down on my other side and chatted to me for a while, so I turned my head toward him and tried to listen over the bouncing balls and echoes in the gym. He didn’t seem to notice that I wasn’t really responding. Ian just smirked. “Digger would love this,” Ian commented at one point.
I decided it was time to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told my brother. “Digger will come too, if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, he said so.”
I stared at him. “Have you guys been talking?”
“He’s been checking in with me a lot,” Ian said. He didn’t look at me. “We talk about stuff.”
I got all emotional again, glad that Digger was looking out for him too. “That’s good,” I said, and used my coat collar to dab at my eyes.
It was pitch black when I left the gym and I was alone in the parking lot. I realized how jumpy I was when some old leaves skittered across the asphalt and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I hurried to the car and locked the doors. Was I always going to be like this? Always so afraid? I hadn’t wanted to tell Ian all of what the lawyer had told me, that it would an uphill battle to get Ian out of the house and living with us. He wouldn’t turn 18 until the summer, August, after his senior year ended, a year and a half away. I couldn’t wait that long and I didn’t want Ian to have to, either.
Digger did accompany me to the basketball practice the next day and acted very strange, sort of stalking around on the sidelines, arms crossed, frowning.
I was mystified. “What’s his deal?” I said aloud, as I watched him take another stroll around the court. “Is he on some kind of security detail for the team?”
“I told him about the coach hitting on you again,” Ian mentioned. “He was pissed.”
“Ian, that’s ridiculous! You don’t need to pretend things to try to make him jealous.”
“Who’s pretending?” my brother asked me. “Here he comes again. He reminds me of a dog waiting to bite someone.”
So I was laughing as Digger sat down next to me, put his arm around me, and pulled me close to him. “What’s so funny?” he asked, still looking like a thundercloud.
“You,” I told him. “You’re a funny bunny.”
The frown deepened. “I’m a bunny?” Never had anyone looked less like a bunny.
I kissed him on the nose. “Yes.” I kissed him quickly on the mouth. “I—” I stopped. I had almost told him that I loved him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
His face relaxed. “Yeah?”
I kissed him again, slightly longer. “Yeah.” I had to be careful with the kissing. It didn’t take much before we were ripping each other’s clothes off. Digger brushed his lips over my cheekbones and moved down to my mouth again.
“Knock it off,” Ian said. “Or get a room.” Digger reached behind me and cuffed him gently.
“Respect your elders,” he advised my brother. All three of us were smiling. I saw the coach staring at us.
“Maryam’s here.” I watched Ian’s expression turn stony as he studied his ex-girlfriend standing at the gym doors. Well, I thought she was his ex. It was a bit of a murky situation to me and I thought that Ian was just as confused. I had given up fishing and now was just demanding information from him: did you actually break up, and if so, what did you say? Do you know for sure that her parents hate you, and if so, how? He was so vague in his answers that it didn’t help much.
“She’s staring right at you,” Digger observed. “Don’t be a dick, man. Go talk to her.” Ian scowled at him, but he picked up his crutches and started moving over toward the doors. Maryam’s face lit up with hope.
I checked the time on my new phone, feeling guilty again about all the money Digger was spending. “We should head over to Sylvie’s house,” I announced. I kind of wondered how Digger was going to fit in with them. I wondered how I was going to fit in with his friends, whom we were supposed to see the next day. After his mom’s remarks on our way to Ann Arbor about how he led his posse, and how she had repeated that I had been keeping him from seeing his friends, I had pushed hard for him to go out. He had compromised with inviting a mob of people over to the unfinished house so I could meet them, too.
We walked by Ian and Maryam in the hall, talking intently. It looked like she was crying. “Ian, don’t be a jerk,” I murmured under my breath.
Digger didn’t bother to be quiet. “Don’t be a dick,” he said again as we walked by. Ian ignored him but Maryam looked up in surprise.
“Oh, Rebecca?”
“Hi, Maryam,” I said, smiling sympathetically as she wiped her cheeks. I had cried plenty of tears in the Lamb’s Academy hallways. Not over boys, but plenty of tears, nevertheless.
“Um, I was just asking Ian if he wanted to come over for dinner this weekend. My parents want to see him again.”
I glanced at my brother. He was staring down at his shoes, looking angry. “I’m not going there so they can bitch at me for corrupting their perfect daughter,” he sniped.
“Hey,” Digger cautioned him sharply.
“Sorry,” Ian mumbled to Maryam, who nodded.
“They don’t want to do that,” she told him. “They just want to get to know you better. And meet your family,” she said to me, looking anxious. “If you want to come, I mean. And you, too,” she said to Digger.
I looked up at him, so handsome, and sweet on the inside. And, frankly, a little scary on the outside, big and dangerous-looking. I remembered my first reaction to him: I’d wanted to simultaneously jump on him and run away. If Maryam’s parents were wary of Ian, they were going to freak out with Digger at their door. “We’d love to come,” I said, and I elbowed my brother.
“And your parents—” Maryam said, but all three of us answered her:
“No!”
“Ok,” she said, startled. “Then I guess we’ll see the three of you on Sunday.” She had her hand on Ian’s arm as he started to walk away.
“You stay,” I told him. “Digger and I have to run. Maryam, thank you for asking us. See you soon.”
Digger and I walked out of the building, with me twisting back to stare at Maryam and Ian as we did.
“Do you think that’s going to work?” I asked Digger. I was interested in his opinion. “I mean, do you think they can make it work?”
“I don’t know, Cinderella. Stuff is hard, right?”
In the gym, I had almost told him that I loved him. I put my arm through his and pressed my cheek against his skin below the short sleeve of his Brody’s Automotive t-shirt, the same one he’d been wearing the first time I saw him. Stuff was hard, for sure, but I was not letting go.
Chapter 13
Sylvie’s house wasn’t huge, like the one I knew she had grown up in. I had been to her parents’ house once with my sister and I had vague memories of a castle, which was probably not right. Her current house, the one we were knocking on the door of, looked like a home, rather than a manor. I loved it.
Digger was examining the windows. “I wonder if they have problems with termites,” he said, pulling on the sill. He stopped and shook his head. “Holy fuck, what have I become?”
“Get out from the plants! They’re going to come to the door any minute.” It swung open as I finished speaking and Digger was still standing in a bush.
“Oh, hi!” Sylvie stepped forward and hugged me and he climbed up on the front porch. “I’m so glad you made it. Sylvie Everhart,” she said, offering her hand to Digger.
“Digger Brody.”
“Come on in and meet Tom!” She smiled at me over her shoulder, her dark hair in thick waves down her back.
“They’re watching a game. Do you like hockey?” I whispered to Digger, who looked dumfounded.
“Am I not from Detroit?” he demanded. “How could you not love hockey?” There was no working TV in his house yet, and we spent our time there together doing…other things. “Don’t you?” he asked me.
I shrugged noncommittally. I wouldn’t have known a puck from a curling rock—or was it a stone? I was only really aware of the sports that Ian played and none of them had taken place on ice.
Tom Everhart, Sylvie’s husband, was a nice guy, quiet, but welcoming. Digger said something about one of the players and then he was sucked into a deep discussion about the team, the coach, potential trades, and I wasn’t sure what else, with Tom and Sylvie’s brother-in-law, Josh, who was married to Rosemond, one of her older sisters. I sat with her and Sylvie and their other sister, Ivy, and I got to hold Rosemond’s baby boy. He was tiny, and an absolutely perfect little human.
“I remember when my brother came home,” I said, looking at the baby’s fingers making miniature fists. “I wanted to keep him in my room and take him to school with me.”
“I remember when Sylvie came home,” her sister Ivy said. “I wanted to put her out in the trash.”
“You’ve always been so full of love,” Sylvie told her, “or full of something.” They laughed at each other. “Ah, sisters.” Her eyes flew to me. “Oh, I…”
“I know what you mean, Margot and I really used to go at it,” I said. “It’s different with Ian because there are so many years between us. We fight, but it’s like he’s my baby.”
“Like me and our oldest sister, Annabel,” Sylvie said.
“I don’t mind if you mention Margot, or talk about sisters,” I told Sylvie. “I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately.”
She looked sympathetically at me. “It really doesn’t seem that long ago to me that she left. I remember how worried we all were, with everything about Margot on the news, your dad giving those interviews.”
“What happened with your sister?”
I looked up at Digger. He was standing behind me, looking over my shoulder at the baby. “Oh.” One more weird, terrible thing about my family. “I guess I never told you all that.”
Rosemond was nodding. “Her family thought that her sister had been kidnapped,” she explained. “Do you remember? It was on TV until they figured out that Margot had left on her own. It was really scary, but it turned out ok.” She looked up at Digger and gestured at her son. “Do you want to hold him?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said easily. “Babies love me.”
“I’ll bet babies aren't the only things that love him,” I heard Ivy say to Sylvie. Digger bent to take the tiny bundle from my arms, then stood, cradling him, slowly rocking his hips back and forth. Tom called to him from the couch and Digger walked over to catch something in the game. We all watched him.
“Your boyfriend’s a natural with kids,” Sylvie announced.
“Does it make you want to bone him, like, immediately?” Ivy asked me.
“Ivy! He’s holding my child!” her sister Rosemond reprimanded her. “And you’re a married woman.”
“Married doesn’t mean blind,” Ivy answered. “Or stupid. My God, look at his ass! Sorry, Rebecca, but someone has to say it.”
Digger slowly walked back over, crooning down at the baby in his arms. I had never, in my life, seen anything sweeter. He looked up at me and grinned. “What do you think, Cinderella? Couple of these?”
There was a collective sigh among the women there.
“Digger, come outside to take a look at our new car,” Tom said. He stared at the baby for a second too and I could see his Adam’s apple move up and down. He looked at Sylvie next, nervously.
“Tom, you have to stop worrying about her,” Ivy told him. “It’s the most natural thing in the world. Sylvie will pop that sucker right out and forget by the next day how terrible it was. You’ll probably faint, though.”
Tom gave her a sideways smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Digger carefully handed the baby back to Rosemond and followed Tom out, after running a hand over my hair and gently tangling his fingers in it. There was another sigh from Sylvie and her sisters.
“Where did you meet him?” Rosemond asked. “Tell us all about him.”
I did, and how I was helping him in his garage, and remodel.
“You’re not living with him, are you?” Rosemond asked, her eyes narrowed. She unbuttoned her shirt and started to feed the baby.
“Rosemond, if you start talking about how living with someone is like the stupid fucking cow and the free milk while you are actually breastfeeding your child…” Ivy warned.
“Rose doesn’t believe in living with someone before marriage,” Sylvie explained.
“No, I think it’s fine, in individual cases. Like you and Tom,” her sister answered.
“And you and Josh,” Sylvie answered right back.
“I think you have to be careful,” Rosemond said to me. “Cautious.”
I thought. I hadn’t been either of those things. “I think it’s too late,” I admitted. “I’m a little crazy about him.”
Ivy patted my shoulder. “I think it’s mutual.” They all sighed again happily, and I realized I liked Sylvie’s sisters. It gave me a big lump in my throat. I wished I had my own sister there. Yes, we had fought, but we had told each other secrets, and I thought, had each other’s backs.
I went to the garage to find Digger after a while. He had his head stuck deep in the engine, as did Sylvie’s husband, Tom, and they were involved in either removing something or just smearing grease on themselves. “Hey, baby,” Digger said. “Come check this out.” I stood under his arm, nestled in close, while he pointed out parts to me and how they functioned together. I had learned a surprising amount about engines, being in the garage. I had gone zero to sixty in terms of knowledge, so to speak.
“The game ended,” I said eventually. “You lost track of time.” I poked him. “We should head out.”
Digger shook hands with Tom. “See you next week down at the garage,” Tom said.
“Not a bad guy,” Digger mentioned as we backed down the driveway.
“They all liked you,” I said. I thought of Ivy’s comments about his butt. “A lot.”
“Yeah, I get along with people.” Never short of confidence. “It was good to meet them. Are you ready for my friends tomorrow?”
I shifted. “Maybe you should go see them by yourself. You haven’t gotten to hang out with them since…since me.”
“Nah, they want to meet you.”
“You told them about me?”
He glanced over. “Are you supposed to be a secret? You sure you can feed all those people?”
I had a timeline worked out to get it all done. “I can do it.” We drove onto the freeway.
“How come you didn’t tell me all that about your sister? The kidnapping stuff. You told me she ran away, left a note blaming you.”
“She did.” I hesitated. “She did leave a letter for my father, but I didn’t give it to him at first.” I pressed my lips together. “I was afraid to give it to my dad because I knew it would get me in trouble, all the things she told him. She was gone, and he couldn’t believe that she would have left on her own. Like, he believed so much in the control he had over all of us, it just wasn’t possible. He called the police when she was late coming home but they wouldn’t do anything. She was just over eighteen, and anyway, they were sure she was a runaway. So he went to the media…he’s wealthy enough and he knows enough people that he got a lot of attention. I’m surprised you don’t remember it, but it was just that one day, and then I knew I had to give him her letter. I was afraid that someone really would find her and she didn’t want to be found. I gave it to him, and he has never forgiven me. Never. Not only had I been helping her lie, but I let him publicly humiliate himself. He didn’t like me before but after that…”
