Faithful
Page 63
Shelby’s heart is beating too fast. “I am.”
Mrs. Howard isn’t wearing a sweater. She must be cold standing out on the curb. “He was in jail, you know,” she says.
Shelby understands. Mrs. Howard is trying to drive her away. “He told me,” she says gently.
Mrs. Howard appraises her coolly. “Young girls can be stupid.”
“I’m not that young.” Shelby sees that James’s mother has a little tremor just like she does when she’s anxious. Right now, for instance, Shelby is shaking. “And I’m not stupid.”
James is headed down the path, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his dog following. He’s wearing the same coat he wore on the night of the accident, the one he covered her with until the ambulance came. He slinked off, and Shelby’s mother came to lie beside her on the asphalt until she was lifted into the ambulance. He stops to reassure his mother. “All the bills for next month have been paid. Mr. Boyd is going to look over the lawn until you hire someone.”
“Do you think I care?” his mother says.
“Probably not.”
He opens the car door, and after Coop leaps in the back, James gets behind the wheel. “That went well,” he says darkly. Shelby is watching Mrs. Howard. Her face has fallen, her complexion is chalky, and her tremor has worsened. She understands that Mrs. Howard can’t afford to show her love for James. She can’t lose another son.
“She cares desperately,” Shelby says.
James gives Shelby a look. “You think you understand my mother?”
“Trust me,” Shelby says. “You’re her everything.”
James gets out of the car in order to speak with his mother. They stand there for quite a while, and at the end of their conversation James hugs her. When he gets back into the car he looks at Shelby with admiration. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Yes,” she says.
They stop in Northport and drive to a strip of land called Asharoken. As far as Shelby is concerned the only thing he needs to know is whether or not he really wants to leave this place. She wants him to be sure. They park and walk along the rocky shore as the sky hangs down in bands of gray and blue twilight. Coop runs off to chase seagulls. James tells her that when he dreams, it’s always of this beach. If his brother ever were to return, it would be here.
“There are beaches in California,” Shelby says.
“What if he comes back and I’m not here?”
James picks up a rock and throws it as far as he can. Shelby feels a chill. She may have lost him to the burden he carries. He has been trapped here since he was ten years old. Under this pale sky there is a soul as free as a bird and a man who has never taken off his mourning clothes. Shelby folds her arms around James and presses her face to his. She can hear his heart beating against hers. He’s in there somewhere, just as she was when she couldn’t say anything or believe in anything or want anything or see anything or be anything. She was hiding inside, waiting for an angel.
“Do something,” she says.
It is a late Sunday afternoon like any other, except for one major problem. Ben Mink is at the door. Not at the lobby door downstairs that a visitor has to be buzzed through, but right here on the fourth floor.
“Ben,” Shelby says when she opens the door to see him, stating the obvious and doing her best not to let on that she’s having an instant panic attack. They’ve been packing and there are boxes everywhere.
“It’s me,” Ben says.
One of the girls from NYU unlocked the door in the lobby for him. He probably looked harmless, like the nice guy whose heart you break. He’s holding a bunch of tulips, yellow and deplorably cheerful.
Shelby is wearing sweatpants and an old T-shirt that may be Ben’s. Her hair is in braids and she looks about fifteen years old. She’s been reading a text on skin diseases in canines. Other than that, the most she’s done so far this morning is brushed her teeth and had coffee and an energy bar. James took the dogs for a long walk before he went out to his publisher’s in Queens. He has begun a sequel called Evermore, in which the Misfit must travel through an enchanted woods alone, without his brother, but with a series of loyal companions: a dog, a white horse, a woman who will never betray him.
“God, this place looks terrible,” Ben says when he comes inside. The dogs mill around him. “Who’s this?” he says when Cooper warily comes to sniff him.
“He’s Coop,” Shelby says. James will soon be home, and Shelby would very much like to get Ben out of here before then.
“Another dog?” Ben looks around. “Where’s Blinkie?”
Shelby leans against the arm of the couch. “Not here, Ben.”
“What does that mean? Does that mean he’s dead?” When Shelby nods, Ben is distraught. “Are you kidding me? Blinkie is dead and you didn’t tell me?”
Ben is wearing a suit and tie, and he looks completely out of place in the mess of the apartment. He tosses the tulips on his great-aunt Ida’s table.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” Shelby says.
“Well, thank you for not bothering me,” Ben says with biting sarcasm. “Blinkie was my dog, too, wasn’t he? I paid for his dog food and he slept in our bed, but what the hell, don’t bother me and tell me he’s dead.” Ben sits on one of Ida’s chairs. It’s the only clean space in the room. “You still have the table,” he says.
“Are you here for the table?”
Ben notices the half-packed boxes scattered across the floor. “What is all this?”
Shelby tells him she’s moving to California. “I got into Davis.”
“But don’t feel like you have to tell me that either!” Ben’s face furrows with anguish. “It was my idea, after all, but what the hell.”
“Oh, Ben. How are you?” Shelby asks, worried. She can still chart his moods.
“Miserable.”
“You look it.”
“I don’t want to be married,” Ben tells her.
“Ben.” Shelby doesn’t think they should be having this conversation.
“At least not to her.” He is looking right at Shelby with a fevered expression. “Ana and I are all wrong for each other.” That is why he’s here. He’s come back for her.
Mrs. Howard isn’t wearing a sweater. She must be cold standing out on the curb. “He was in jail, you know,” she says.
Shelby understands. Mrs. Howard is trying to drive her away. “He told me,” she says gently.
Mrs. Howard appraises her coolly. “Young girls can be stupid.”
“I’m not that young.” Shelby sees that James’s mother has a little tremor just like she does when she’s anxious. Right now, for instance, Shelby is shaking. “And I’m not stupid.”
James is headed down the path, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his dog following. He’s wearing the same coat he wore on the night of the accident, the one he covered her with until the ambulance came. He slinked off, and Shelby’s mother came to lie beside her on the asphalt until she was lifted into the ambulance. He stops to reassure his mother. “All the bills for next month have been paid. Mr. Boyd is going to look over the lawn until you hire someone.”
“Do you think I care?” his mother says.
“Probably not.”
He opens the car door, and after Coop leaps in the back, James gets behind the wheel. “That went well,” he says darkly. Shelby is watching Mrs. Howard. Her face has fallen, her complexion is chalky, and her tremor has worsened. She understands that Mrs. Howard can’t afford to show her love for James. She can’t lose another son.
“She cares desperately,” Shelby says.
James gives Shelby a look. “You think you understand my mother?”
“Trust me,” Shelby says. “You’re her everything.”
James gets out of the car in order to speak with his mother. They stand there for quite a while, and at the end of their conversation James hugs her. When he gets back into the car he looks at Shelby with admiration. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Yes,” she says.
They stop in Northport and drive to a strip of land called Asharoken. As far as Shelby is concerned the only thing he needs to know is whether or not he really wants to leave this place. She wants him to be sure. They park and walk along the rocky shore as the sky hangs down in bands of gray and blue twilight. Coop runs off to chase seagulls. James tells her that when he dreams, it’s always of this beach. If his brother ever were to return, it would be here.
“There are beaches in California,” Shelby says.
“What if he comes back and I’m not here?”
James picks up a rock and throws it as far as he can. Shelby feels a chill. She may have lost him to the burden he carries. He has been trapped here since he was ten years old. Under this pale sky there is a soul as free as a bird and a man who has never taken off his mourning clothes. Shelby folds her arms around James and presses her face to his. She can hear his heart beating against hers. He’s in there somewhere, just as she was when she couldn’t say anything or believe in anything or want anything or see anything or be anything. She was hiding inside, waiting for an angel.
“Do something,” she says.
It is a late Sunday afternoon like any other, except for one major problem. Ben Mink is at the door. Not at the lobby door downstairs that a visitor has to be buzzed through, but right here on the fourth floor.
“Ben,” Shelby says when she opens the door to see him, stating the obvious and doing her best not to let on that she’s having an instant panic attack. They’ve been packing and there are boxes everywhere.
“It’s me,” Ben says.
One of the girls from NYU unlocked the door in the lobby for him. He probably looked harmless, like the nice guy whose heart you break. He’s holding a bunch of tulips, yellow and deplorably cheerful.
Shelby is wearing sweatpants and an old T-shirt that may be Ben’s. Her hair is in braids and she looks about fifteen years old. She’s been reading a text on skin diseases in canines. Other than that, the most she’s done so far this morning is brushed her teeth and had coffee and an energy bar. James took the dogs for a long walk before he went out to his publisher’s in Queens. He has begun a sequel called Evermore, in which the Misfit must travel through an enchanted woods alone, without his brother, but with a series of loyal companions: a dog, a white horse, a woman who will never betray him.
“God, this place looks terrible,” Ben says when he comes inside. The dogs mill around him. “Who’s this?” he says when Cooper warily comes to sniff him.
“He’s Coop,” Shelby says. James will soon be home, and Shelby would very much like to get Ben out of here before then.
“Another dog?” Ben looks around. “Where’s Blinkie?”
Shelby leans against the arm of the couch. “Not here, Ben.”
“What does that mean? Does that mean he’s dead?” When Shelby nods, Ben is distraught. “Are you kidding me? Blinkie is dead and you didn’t tell me?”
Ben is wearing a suit and tie, and he looks completely out of place in the mess of the apartment. He tosses the tulips on his great-aunt Ida’s table.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” Shelby says.
“Well, thank you for not bothering me,” Ben says with biting sarcasm. “Blinkie was my dog, too, wasn’t he? I paid for his dog food and he slept in our bed, but what the hell, don’t bother me and tell me he’s dead.” Ben sits on one of Ida’s chairs. It’s the only clean space in the room. “You still have the table,” he says.
“Are you here for the table?”
Ben notices the half-packed boxes scattered across the floor. “What is all this?”
Shelby tells him she’s moving to California. “I got into Davis.”
“But don’t feel like you have to tell me that either!” Ben’s face furrows with anguish. “It was my idea, after all, but what the hell.”
“Oh, Ben. How are you?” Shelby asks, worried. She can still chart his moods.
“Miserable.”
“You look it.”
“I don’t want to be married,” Ben tells her.
“Ben.” Shelby doesn’t think they should be having this conversation.
“At least not to her.” He is looking right at Shelby with a fevered expression. “Ana and I are all wrong for each other.” That is why he’s here. He’s come back for her.
