to me, Catherine, that’s not what’s important. What’s important is that we all stay together. Me and you and Joey. Whatever happens, the three of us have to stay together.”
That night, my sister and I were jumping rope by the back patio light. Inside, we could hear our mother turning the pages of a magazine. I spoke to my sister in a whisper.
“Rin?”
“What?”
“Do you think Mommy and Ray will get married?”
She kept turning the rope even though I’d stopped jumping. “I don’t know. Do you want them to?”
“Umm …” Now that she asked, I wasn’t sure. I needed her opinion. “Do you?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore.” She was sounding very old for her age.
We heard a car pull up to the front of the house and the kitchen chair our mother was on slid on the linoleum floor as she stood up. Catherine and I went inside. My mother spoke through the screen door. “Ray, it’s kinda late.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I saw the light on.”
I scrambled to my mother’s legs and said hi to him. He said, “Hey, buddy Joe. Look what I got for you.” He pulled out a miniature car. “Joey, this is a 1954 Porsche. James Dean used to drive a car like this. You know who James Dean was?”
“No.”
“He was the coolest movie star there was.”
My mother said, “Come in for a minute,” and opened the door. I grabbed the car as if it were my first meal in a week.
“What do you say, Joey?”
“Thank you, Ray.”
I started to drive the car all over the living room as Ray produced a can of bubbles for Catherine. Mom said, “Joey, don’t wake up your grandparents.”
“How’d you like that movie the other night?”
“You drove over here just to ask me how I liked the movie we saw last week?”
“Yeah. That, and I thought maybe you could do me a favor.”
“What?”
“What night did we see that movie?”
Our mother was getting a little annoyed. “Um, Wednesday. What’s the—”
“Are you sure it wasn’t Tuesday?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talkin’ about the movie we saw last Tuesday.”
“You’re not being cute, Ray. What’s the favor?”
“I was thinking—here’s the favor part—if someone was to ask you what night we saw the movie, do you think you could tell them—”
“Someone? Who is someone?”
“Joey, didn’t me and your mother go see the movies last Tuesday night?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a good answer, Joe. If you tell ’em nothin’, they ain’t got nothin’ on you.”
My mother cut him right off. “Joey, take your car and go upstairs. I’ll be right there to put you to bed. Catherine, go with him.”
I said, “Why?”
“Upstairs.” There was the tone we didn’t argue with. Catherine and I got halfway up the stairs when we heard our mom hiss at Ray. “Outside.”
The screen door shut. Catherine and I could still hear them.
“This is not fuckin’ funny, Ray. Who the hell is gonna ask me what? And why?”
“Look, look. Sorry I ever said anything about it. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”
“A big deal? You come in here, try to turn my four-year-old son into an accessory, and now—”
“I did not.”
“You asked my son to lie for you, and now all of a sudden I’ve got ‘someone’ who might ask me ‘something’ about where you were last week. Where are they gonna ask me this? Are they gonna show up at my job? Are they gonna come here? To my parents’ house? Where my children live, to ask me?”
“It’s probably nothin’.”
“It’s already somethin’ and I don’t want it. And another thing, these kids don’t need another guy to come and go.”
“That’s not me!”
“Oh, no?”
“No.”
“Then tell me the truth, Ray. Tell me the God’s honest truth, even if this thing is nothin’, and it’s probably not—”
“It is nothing.”
“Even so, even if that’s so, there’ll still be somethin’ else, won’t there? Won’t there, Ray? You’ll have to leave the country or go to jail—”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t know that. And what will happen to us? Tell me the truth right now. What will happen to us? Will anyone be able to protect us?”
“Whaddaya want me to say? That I’m sure about how the rest of my life is gonna work out? Nobody can say that. Nobody really knows what’ll happen to them. And forgive me for makin’ this example, but didn’t you think you were gonna be married to that guy forever?”
“Go on.”
“Maybe we don’t know nothin’ for sure about what’s gonna happen to us. All I can tell you is that I know how I feel and I know what I wanna do. Don’t you see what I can give you?”
“Raymond, look at me and tell me that if you made a mistake it wouldn’t come down on all of us. Tell me that right now.”
He took a long time to answer. “I can’t.”
“Then neither can I. I can’t do it.”
There was silence. Then the soles of Ray’s shoes moved against the slate stairs and my mother said, “Raymond, don’t.”
A little more silence.
“I love them so much, Ray. I love them so fucking much I can’t stand it sometimes.”
“I know the feeling.”
Last thing Catherine and I heard before we ran up the stairs was Ray’s car door slam.
THE
