The Kindest Lie(83)
“That job sounds promising, big brother.”
He managed a half smile. “It pays pretty good, just like most jobs people don’t want to do. That’s why garbagemen make a lot of money.”
Ruth could hear the defeat so deeply embedded in his voice that even the hint of good news couldn’t camouflage it. But she heard hope, too, or maybe that’s what she wanted to hear.
Then Keisha pulled Eli by the hand, leading him into the living room, where a few wrapped gifts had the kids’ names on them. He sat in Papa’s recliner, the seat closest to the tree, and Keisha jumped on his lap.
“Okay, go, Daddy.”
Eli couldn’t be grumpy for long with his little girl smiling up at him. He played along with a befuddled expression on his face. “What? What you want me to do?”
She sighed dramatically with the air of a grown woman. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s your job to play Santa since he’s stuck in traffic delivering toys to other people’s houses?”
Everyone laughed and watched Eli hand out presents one by one to his daughter and sons and then smile with satisfaction at their oohs and aahs. Mama and Cassie planted themselves on the couch patiently showing interest in Barbies and Pokémon action figures.
Ruth thought back to seeing Corey romp in the snow. What was Christmas Day like at his house? How many gifts would he unwrap, and which one would be his favorite? She would never know his family traditions.
There had been times over the years, especially after Papa’s death, that Ruth dreaded entering this house, hating everything from the slant to the smell of it. She had attached almost every grievance in her life to someone here. But on Christmas, everything came into focus more sharply and she saw them all with new eyes—their flaws and their beauty—and she chose to appreciate them because, in the end, they were family.
Twenty-Nine
Midnight
Corey’s real mom. That was the thought that had been running through Midnight’s head on repeat after he heard what Granny said. His skull ached with a thousand tiny needles poking it. He had slipped out of Drew’s apartment without anyone noticing. Outside, he let the cold air wrap around his face and hush Granny’s words in his head. He tried to breathe deeply, but his throat closed as though a fuzzy tennis ball had lodged there. He had to get away, somewhere, anywhere, but he didn’t know where.
When he made his way downtown and stumbled upon Bones, he didn’t rub his belly, and he had always rubbed his belly. He’d even rubbed his belly after Diane Romero beat him up after school last year, and when Rusty Flanagan stole his science homework and copied the answers. He pet Bones even after he realized he might never play Little League. But not this time.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Miss Ruth covering him with his jacket when he fell asleep. He yanked it off and threw it into a slushy puddle of melted snow. And to think he’d blown air into his cupped hands before he talked to her to make sure he didn’t have stinky breath. He thought of all the dumb things he’d told her and kicked his coat. Dirty snow water splashed his face.
“Little man is mad at somebody. What did that coat do to you?”
Midnight turned around to find L-Boogie, the tall, quiet gangbanger from the night before, the one who walked with a limp, an invisible string pulling the right side of his body. He still wore a red rag, this time tied around his neck as a scarf. Midnight had thought if he ever saw him again, he’d be scared, looking for an escape route in case the guy wanted to cut up his body into tiny pieces like the serial killers he saw in the movies, but he didn’t feel afraid. He didn’t feel anything.
“I’m not mad. She—” He cut himself off.
“Uh-oh. Woman problems already. These females can be a trip.”
Midnight shrugged, unsure how to respond.
“Well, looks like you going to war with that coat. Somebody pissed you off bad. Tell me who and I’ll take care of ’em for you.”
For a second Midnight thought L-Boogie might mean it, until he laughed. Then Midnight laughed, too, soft like a pot of water on low boil.
“Where’s your little crew?”
Midnight shrugged. “We don’t hang like we used to.” That wasn’t exactly true, but maybe it would be.
L-Boogie rubbed his cheek like he was thinking. “You don’t need trick-ass friends. You need family.”
Midnight rubbed his arms. It was still chilly out and he needed his coat, but it floated in a puddle at his feet. L-Boogie took off his leather bomber jacket and wrapped it around Midnight’s shoulders. “Put this on. Come on in here and I’ll buy you something to warm you up.”
They sat across from each other in a booth at Dunkin’ Donuts, one of the few places open on Christmas, and Midnight ran his fingers across the soft black leather of L-Boogie’s coat. He dipped his glazed doughnut hole in his cocoa the way Daddy did with his coffee.
“Tastes good that way, right?”
“Yeah. Thank you. This jacket must have cost a lot of money.”
“Let me teach you about economics, son. Supply and demand. You produce a product that people really want to buy, and they’ll pay top dollar for it. That’s how business works. I’m a businessman. That’s how I afford to have nice things.” He rolled his tongue over his teeth and made a sucking sound with his lips. “Let me tell you another thing. I don’t go into business with just anybody. Got to be family. You remember Bo? You met him.”