The Other Side(87)
Chapter Forty-Three
Present, June 1987
Toby
When I wake, the sun is high overhead and I’m sweating from the heat in the air, the sleeping bag, and the body pressed against me. Alice is still facing me on her side, eyes closed, jaw slack, drooling. It’s adorable.
“Feed the zucchini to the armadillos.”
Shocked by the clarity of her voice, I shift back a few inches.
“She talks in her sleep when she’s exhausted. She always has.”
Shocked by the voice behind me, I shift forward to my original position. When I roll over, Taber is standing on the ladder leading up from their fire escape to ours and he’s only visible from the shoulders up.
He laughs. “And she always says the funniest shit. I’ve asked her about it when she wakes up, but she never remembers her dreams.”
I blink a few times before he comes into focus. “Sorry about last night. That I messed up your gig.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. We’re the ones who are sorry we didn’t see the severity of what you’re going through.” And then he shrugs and I know he’s about to relieve the heaviness a bit. “Besides, the band we were opening for are a bunch of douches anyway. Don’t sweat it. Sorry I assumed you were picking up women at the bar Friday night. Alice told me what you were really doing. You know I was only looking out for her by telling her about it.”
I return his acceptance of the apology. “Don’t sweat it. You couldn’t have known. And thanks for not returning the favor and punching me in the face for the assumed betrayal.”
He huffs out an unexpected laugh remembering the black eye I gave him, and then looks down for a few seconds before his eyes meet mine again. “Listen, I know we don’t know each other very well, but sometimes those are the best people to talk to. I’ve done a lot of shit I regret, and I have no room to judge anyone’s struggles. I’m here if you need an ear.”
“He’s a really good listener,” Alice says to the back of my head before kissing it.
I nod at Taber to acknowledge the offer and reach back to find Alice’s hand to acknowledge her concern.
“Come by anytime,” Taber says and that’s where it ends. I like that about Taber, he knows when to change the subject. “Rise and shine, Alice. Dad’s heading out to drive home in a few minutes and wants to say goodbye.”
Alice stretches like a cat behind me, limbs extended to maximum length, holding onto my hand the whole time. When she sits up, I stand and pull her up with me. Her eyes are still closed, but she’s smiling a sleepy smile that looks sated. “Want to come meet my dad?”
There are few more intimidating questions than that. “Umm…”
Her smile grows at my stalling tactics. “Another time?” she asks, letting me off the hook.
“Next time?”
“Okay,” she agrees. And then she leans forward slightly and says, “Kiss me.”
I do. It’s closed mouth but lingers just long enough to stir things inside me. When she backs away, I ask, “Did your mom go to graduation?”
A half smile emerges, but it isn’t sad like it usually is when she talks about her mom. “Nope, and that’s okay. I think it would’ve stressed me out if she did come so this was better. She’s still upset I’m not living her version of my life.” She kisses me one more time and then says, “I’ll come by later,” as I guide her to the ladder and Taber helps her climb onto it.
“Okay,” I say as I watch her descend.
Gathering up my sleeping bag and pillow, I walk inside. It smells like frosting. Like when I was in elementary school and Doug Strickland’s mom would bring cupcakes from Albertson’s bakery in for everyone on his birthday. I loved it, because they were the kind of cupcakes that were more frosting than cake. There’s a rectangular box on the counter next to my dirty graduation cap that Johnny must’ve picked up from where it fell off at graduation. When I peek inside, there’s a small sheet cake with the same overabundance of white frosting and blue writing that reads, Happy Graduation, Toby! Dropping the lid closed I press my face into the sleeping bag and pillow in my hands and I try not to cry. But I fail. I’m eighteen years old and this is the first cake I’ve ever had that was mine, name written on it or not. We never had birthday cakes growing up. We never celebrated milestones. We never did a lot of things and it was okay because that’s just how it was.
But this cake is mine.
When I wipe my eyes and turn around, Cliff is standing in the kitchen behind me, a bowl of mac and cheese in one hand and a big, wooden spoon in the other. I guess he couldn’t find any other clean utensils. He doesn’t wait to swallow the mouthful of noodles before he starts talking. “Johnny’s in the basement fixing the washing machine. He said to come get him when you woke up and we’d eat it.”
I nod. “I need to shower first.” I also make a note to wash my sleeping bag because it’s dirty from the fire escape.
“Okay,” he says, his back already to me. When he gets to his bedroom door and I get to mine, he stops and turns around. “I’m glad you didn’t do it, Toby. I lost my mom, and then my pops,” his voice cracks, “I don’t want to lose anyone else.” He shuts his door but not before I see the first tear fall.