“She’s beautiful,” Jack said, when Eve came downstairs again.
“You were amazing with her.” She sat on the other end of the sofa from him, curling her feet under her. “She’s usually so shy with men.”
“Her father must be a redhead, huh?”
She nodded without hesitation, used to the deceit. In her mind, Cory’s father looked exactly like Tim with red hair.
“Is he very involved with her?” he asked.
She shook her head. “He was killed in a motorcycle accident when Cory was a baby.” This was the lie she’d told Lorraine and the women at the park and anyone else who inquired. It was the lie she would one day tell Cory. She’d decided it was best to get Cory’s mythical father completely out of the picture.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jack said.
“I didn’t even put his name on the birth certificate because I didn’t want him to be involved with her. He wasn’t the sort of guy I thought he was.” She ran her hand over the floral fabric on the sofa. “He turned out to be a criminal.”
“Drugs?” he asked.
“Among other things,” she offered vaguely.
“It’s hard for me to imagine you with a guy like that,” Jack said.
She thought of Tim and how he’d used her. “It’s hard for me to imagine it, too,” she said.
For the next week, they met twice on the grounds for a bite to eat and they spoke every night on the phone. On Saturday, Jack arrived with a twelve-inch, red, Radio Flyer bicycle with training wheels. He called Eve outside to see it before showing it to Cory.
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay with this before I give it to her,” he said.
“Oh, my God, Jack!” Eve said when she spotted the bike. She was both astonished and a little unsettled by his generosity. “This is too much.” She meant it. Generous gifts came with obligations.
“I know,” Jack admitted. “And I promise not to be Santa Claus every time I see her. But indulge me right now, okay? I’m having fun.” His kidlike grin was hard to resist.
“Okay,” she said.
They called Cory outside and watched her eyes light up at the sight of the bicycle.
“Wowie!” she said, running over to it. She looked at the bike from front to rear, then up at Jack. “You got the same color as my hair!” she said.
Jack laughed. “You’re right, Cory-Dory. And I had to look high and low for it, too. Why don’t you hop on?”
Eve helped Cory onto the bike, but she stayed on only three seconds before getting off again. “It’s scary,” she said.
“Scary?” Jack looked surprised. “I asked the guy in the bicycle store to sell me the unscary one.”
Cory looked at him, and Eve knew she didn’t quite follow what he was saying.
“Maybe in a few days you’ll feel brave enough to get on it,” Eve said.
“I think she’s brave enough now, aren’t you, Cory?”
Cory put her skinny leg over the bike again, and Eve had an image of her riding down the slightly sloped driveway and into the path of a car. “The first thing we’ll teach you is how to brake,” she said.
Cory sat down on the bicycle seat and gripped the handlebars.
“Great job!” Jack said.
“You look like a big girl,” Eve added.
Cory bit her lower lip. “Will I tip over?” she asked.
“Impossible,” Jack said. “You have these cool training wheels in the back to keep you from tipping over.”
Cory peered around her shoulder to look at the training wheels.
“So, how do I make it go?” she asked.
They gave her a lesson in the driveway, and soon she was riding on her own, but as if she could read Eve’s mind, she back-pedaled to brake every few feet.
“Excellent!” Jack said once she’d managed the length of the driveway without braking. “You’re ready for the sidewalk.” He helped her turn onto the sidewalk, and Eve walked next to her as she rode.
“There’s a big bump!” Cory cried. The sidewalk up ahead was cracked over a tree root.
“It’s not that big,” Eve said. “You can go over it.”
Cory shut her eyes and let out a yelp as she rode over the bump.
“All right, Cory!” Jack called from behind them. “Cory-Dory rose to the challenge, boys and girls. She went over the bump like a pro.”
Cory didn’t seem to hear him, her forehead furrowed in concentration. She brought the bike to a standstill and put her feet on the ground.
“I want to get off now,” she announced.
“Let’s just ride it back to where Jack is,” Eve said quietly as she turned the bike around. “And you didn’t thank him. This is an extremely nice gift.”
“I don’t want to go over that bump again,” Cory said.
“You’re not going to tip over.”
Cory eyed the bump as if it were the Grand Canyon, but she climbed aboard.
“You hold on, Mommy,” she said.
“I’m holding on.” Eve put her hand lightly on the back of the seat and they negotiated the sidewalk with relative ease.
“Well, we all survived,” Jack said, rolling his eyes at Eve with a smile.
“What do you say to Jack?”
“Thank you for the bike,” Cory said. “Did you bring the Cory-Dory bag?”
Jack laughed. “Greedy little Gus, aren’t you?”
“What does that mean?” Cory asked.
“It means you want everything handed to you on a silver platter,” Eve said.
“What’s a silver platter?”
“It just means you’re a normal three-year-old girl,” Jack said. “And Marian’s going to stay with you this afternoon while I steal your mom away for a while.”
Cory looked truly alarmed. “You’re going to steal her?”
“She’s in her literal phase,” Eve said to Jack.
“Your Mom and I are going to a bookstore for a while. Okay?”
“Can I come, too?”
“No, honey,” Eve said. “You’ll stay here with Marian. But I’ll buy you a book, okay?”
“Okay.” Cory ran into the house. “Marian! I’m staying with you for a while!” she yelled.
Eve turned to smile at Jack. “This was really wonderful of you,” she said, her hand on the seat of the bike. “She’s going to love it.”
The used bookstore was near the university. She’d not been in it before and the ceiling-high stacks crammed with old books took her breath away. She found an ancient book on psychology, some of the theories and approaches in opposition to those she was learning, and she found a copy of Charlotte’s Web to read to Cory, but then remembered about Charlotte dying at the end and decided against it.
“I have to be so careful with Cory,” she said to Jack. “She’s afraid of so much. I don’t want to make it worse.”
“Maybe you’re too careful,” Jack suggested gently.
“I don’t think I can be,” she said. “What makes you say that?”
He pulled a dusty book from the stacks and studied the cover. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said. “What do I know about raising kids?”
“Come on,” she said. “What made you say I’m too careful?”
“I’ve only seen you with her for a few hours, so I really have no right to—”
“Jack! Tell me.”
“Maybe you coddle her a little too much,” he said. “When she’s afraid, like on the bike or when she was shy about meeting me, you sort of…I don’t know, comforted her. I think she liked that comfort.”
Eve was quiet. Marian had said similar things to her and the criticism worried her. She was so afraid of failing her daughter.
“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “It really isn’t my place to—”
“No, I…” Eve let out a sigh. “You might be right. I’m not sure how else to be. I worry about her so much.”
“What are you afraid of?” he asked.
Where to start? “Of losing her somehow,” sh
e said. “Of having her get hurt. Of having her suffer in any way.”
“Part of life, Evie,” he said. “Although I understand that you’ve had more than your share of the bad stuff.”
“I know.”
“You’re a good mom,” he said. In the privacy of the stacks, he put his arms around her and kissed her. “And a beautiful mom.”
She wasn’t beautiful. She was a plain Jane, but she believed that he meant it, that he saw something in her another man might not see. He pressed gently against her, his erection connecting with her belly. It had been so long since her body had reacted to a man. So long! Lowering her hand between them, she let the back of her fingers brush over him. He sucked in his breath.
“Jeez, girl,” he said. “You are brazen.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not complaining.” He laughed.
“I’m not usually…brazen,” she said, then laughed herself. “I don’t even know what I am usually. It’s been so long since I liked anyone.”
“My fault,” he said. “Coming on to you in a bookstore. You know, usually I—this is going to sound bad, but I want to be straight with you. Usually, if a girl—a woman—wanted it and I liked her and found her attractive, I’d take her to bed right away. As soon as I could. But I don’t want that with you. I mean, I definitely want you. I just don’t want to move too fast and spoil what could turn out to be a really good thing.”
“Of course,” she said, drawing away from him.
“So,” he said, “show me what you found in the old psych book.”
They sat on the floor and leaned against the wall, flipping through the pages of the musty old book.
Afterward, he gave her a tour of the inner workings of the Helms Theater, where she’d seen his play. He talked about wanting to teach drama to high-school kids. She told him how she planned to work for a while after graduating, then go back for her master’s in counseling. Soon, they knew nearly everything there was to know about their lives in the here and now. That was how she planned to keep it. She had no past. The here and now was where they would begin.
Chapter Twenty-Six
When the school year ended, they fell into a pattern. Eve took a class four mornings a week and worked at an adolescent halfway house on the weekends. Jack’s summer job with the Virginia Theater Company was primarily on the weekends as well, so they had only a few weekday evenings together, most of them spent with Cory in tow. Jack was an amazing man, willing to share the little bit of time he and Eve had together visiting amusement parks or roller-skating rinks or working on Cory’s bicycling skills. She’d gotten much braver on the bike, which gave Eve both hope and trepidation.
On the Fourth of July, Cory helped Marian prepare a picnic dinner, while Eve and Jack had some time alone. They spent a lazy afternoon in the bookstore, ending up back at the house Jack shared with two other guys, both of whom were out of town for the holiday. In the four months they’d known each other, this was the first time they’d been alone together in one of their houses. Eve had started taking the pill two months ago in preparation for this day when she would have him to herself, undisturbed. She’d fallen in love with him, although she had not yet told him that. She loved his energy and playfulness, his patience and generosity with Cory. Occasionally, though, she wondered if he had the ability to be serious about anything. That concern was what kept her from saying those solemn words, weighted with expectations, to him.
As soon as they walked into his house, he shut the door behind them and drew her into his arms. “Ah,” he said, kissing her. “Alone at last. Would you like to see my etchings?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve been waiting a long time to see your etchings.”
“You go upstairs and I’ll meet you in a minute. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No, thanks.” Refreshments were the last thing on her mind. She was twenty-one and felt like a virgin. CeeCee had made love; Eve had not. CeeCee had been so stupid, so gullible, so naive. She’d needed Tim to guide her, to teach her. Eve did not.
Upstairs, she pulled the shade in his bedroom, and the room filled with a pale mellow light. She took off her clothes, folding them and setting them on his dresser. His double bed, which took up nearly all the space in the room, was neatly made, and when she climbed between the sheets, she smelled the sunshine-and-soap scent of freshly laundered linen. He’d prepared for this, too, she though happily.
She stretched out beneath the covers, the touch of the sheets exciting against her bare skin. Folding her arms behind her head, she waited.
“I’m coming, don’t give up on me,” he called. She heard his footsteps on the stairs and in a moment he appeared in the doorway. He grinned when he saw her.
“My woman’s hot to trot.” He laughed. He had something in his hand which he set on the floor by his side of the bed.
He lay down next to her, rolling onto his side. “You look beautiful,” he said, running his fingertips over her cheek. “There’s a stripe of sunlight on your hair and face.”
She touched her cheek as though she might be able to feel the sunlight there, then smoothed her hand over his arm.
“You’re precious to me, do you know that?” he asked. He could be serious. She was wrong to think otherwise.
“I feel the same way,” she said. Her voice felt thick.
He bent over to kiss her and she pulled his T-shirt over his head as he drew away. He stood up and unbuckled his khakis and let them fall. He pulled off his shorts, and she rolled to the edge of the bed to touch his erection, to press it against her cheek. He groaned, then lay her back on the bed. The next thing she knew, she felt something cold on her neck and heard a hissing sound.
“What…?”
He licked her neck. “Mmm,” he said.
She pulled back laughing, spotting the red-and-white can in his hand. “Whipped cream?” Well, he could be serious for a few seconds, anyway.
“Hold still.” He drew the sheet from her breast. “Oh, stunning,” he said. Then he slowly covered her nipples with whipped cream before lowering his mouth to them, and she knew their lovemaking would be long, passionate—and very, very messy.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
1982
Eve sat on Cory’s bed and turned the last page of the book they were reading together. Cory already recognized many words. Puppy, for example. Elephant. Run. Boy and girl. And for some reason, asparagus.
Eve tucked the covers beneath Cory’s chin and leaned over to kiss her forehead. Her own mother used to read to her at night, then sit and talk with her about everything under the sun. She’d loved that tender time with her mother, and she loved recreating it with Cory.
She brushed a lock of red hair from Cory’s cheek and slipped it behind her ear. “Marian said you saw a dachshund at the park today,” she said.
Cory nodded. “And I wasn’t afraid of it because it was little,” she said.
She had been afraid of it, Marian had told Eve, but she didn’t correct her. She’d let Cory have her fantasy of bravery.
“Mommy,” Cory said suddenly, “is Marian my daddy?”
Eve had been waiting a long time for Cory to ask about her father, but she’d never expected the question to come in this form.
“No, honey,” she said. “Daddies have to be men.” She wondered if Cory was thinking about Lorraine, Bobbie and Shan. Clearly, there was no man in that triad, and she wasn’t sure how to explain those family dynamics. “Marian’s just a very special friend,” she said. “She’s not related to us.”
“Then is Jack my daddy?”
“No. Jack’s a very special friend, too.”
She waited, and for a moment thought that was the end of it.
“What makes you ask about your daddy, honey?”
Cory pressed her lips together until they nearly disappeared. “Kelsey’s daddy brings her to the park every morning,” she said, referring to the only man who took part in the morning get-together of moms-and-kids at the
park. “And Hank has a daddy. And Calvin. I think everybody at the park has a daddy except me. I said I had one, too. I said Marian was my daddy, and Hank laughed at me.”
Eve’s heart broke a little. She wished she could remember having this conversation with her own mother. How had her father’s absence been explained to her? She didn’t recall, but she did remember the pain of being fatherless when it seemed that all the other children had two parents active in their lives, even if they were not living together.
This would be the first outright lie she’d told her daughter.
“You had a daddy, Cory,” she said. “But he died.”
“Like Dino?” Cory asked, referring to a dog who used to play with the children—the other children—at the park.
“Yes. Like Dino.”
“My daddy’s in heaven?”
“Yes.”
“Was he really sick like Dino?”
“No. He had an accident.”
“Oh.”
“I grew up without a daddy, too,” she said. She wasn’t sure if this was too much information to give her, but it seemed important to say.
“Your daddy died, too?”
She could make it easy on herself and say yes, but she didn’t want to tell any more lies than she had to.
“He just wasn’t a very good daddy. I never even knew him.”
“Will I ever get to meet my daddy?”
She didn’t get it. She was still a little mixed up about the concept of death.
“No, honey. I’m sorry. He can’t come back. Just like Dino can’t come back.”
She saw the tears welling in her daughter’s eyes and felt her own eyes burn.
“Come here, Cory.” She drew the covers back and pulled her daughter into her arms. Rocking her, she felt Cory sniffling against her chest, grieving for the father she could never know.
“I had a painful conversation with Cory tonight,” she said to Jack when he phoned her that evening. “She suddenly realized she doesn’t have a daddy. I guess the other kids at the park talk about their fathers. She asked me if Marian was her daddy.”