Along for the Ride(45)

I shrugged, leaning over the cart as he pulled out some milk, checking the expiration date. Watching him, I thought, not for the first time that night, that maybe it should have felt strange to be with him, here, now. And yet it didn’t, at all. That was one of the things about the night. Stuff that would be weird in the bright light of day just wasn’t so much once you passed a certain hour. It was like the dark just evened it all out somehow. I said, ‘I just think that it’s too late, maybe. All the things I should have been doing over the last eighteen years, like going to slumber parties, or breaking curfew on Friday night, or –’

‘Riding a bike,’ he said.

I stopped pushing the cart. ‘What is it,’ I said, ‘with you and the whole bike thing?’

‘Well, I am in the business. Plus, it’s a big part of growing up,’ he replied, moving down to the cheese display. ‘And it’s not too late.’

I didn’t say anything as we headed toward the registers, where one girl was standing by the only one that was open, examining her split ends.

‘Of course,’ Eli said as he began unloading the cart onto the belt, ‘it’s not too late for slumber parties or any of that other stuff either. But breaking curfew I think you can go ahead and knock off your list.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s past four A.M. and you’re at the Park Mart,’ he said as the girl began to scan the groceries. ‘It counts, I think.’

I considered this as I watched some apples roll down the belt. ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Maybe you’re right, and all that stuff I think I missed is overrated. Why should I even bother? What’s the point, really?’

He thought for a moment. ‘Who says there has to be a point?’ he asked. ‘Or a reason. Maybe it’s just something you have to do.’

He moved down to start bagging while I just stood there, letting this sink in. Just something you have to do. No excuse or rationale necessary. I kind of liked that.

From Park Mart, we headed over to Lumber and Stone, the home improvement superstore, which Eli informed me opened early for contractors. Which we were not, but they didn’t seem to care, letting us walk right in. I tagged along as Eli stocked up on a new wrench set, a box of nails, and a value pack of lightbulbs: while he checked out, I sat on a bench by the front door, watching the sun begin to rise over the parking lot. By the time we left, it was almost six, and the rest of the world was finally waking up to join us.

‘I saw that,’ he said as I stifled a yawn while sliding into the front seat of his car.

‘This,’ I said, ‘is about the time I usually crash.’

‘One last stop,’ he replied.

It was, of course, the Gas/Gro, where the same older woman, now reading the newspaper, was behind the counter, a cell phone pressed to her ear.

‘You need anything?’ Eli asked, and I shook my head, sliding down in the seat a bit as he got out and went in. Just as he walked up to the door, a little blue Honda pulled in a few spaces down. I was in the midst of another yawn when I saw someone get out, shutting the driver’s-side door and also leaving a passenger to wait. He was tall, wearing rumpled khakis, a plaid shirt, and black-framed glasses.

I leaned closer, taking in his profile as he went in. Then I turned slowly to look down at the Honda, where, sure enough, I saw my mother sitting in the passenger seat. She had her hair piled up on her head, her favorite black sweater tied over her shoulders, and she looked tired. Inside, her grad student was pouring himself a coffee. I watched him grab a pack of gum, and then an apple pie, as he headed up to the register, where Eli was chatting with the woman working as she rang him up. What do you know, I thought. My mother was dating a store-goer.

When Eli came out, a bottled water and bag of Doritos in hand, I watched her study him as he passed, eyes narrowed as she took in his too-long dark hair, the worn T-shirt, the way he jangled his keys in his hand. I knew she was cataloging him instantly: high school education, not college bound or even interested, working class. The same things, if I was honest, that I would have thought, once. But I was one night, and many hours, further away from my mother now. Even with this short distance between us.

She might have still been watching when Eli got in the truck, shutting the door behind him. I didn’t know, because by then I’d already turned to face him, my back to her, unrecognizable. Just any girl, nodding in reply as he asked if I was ready, finally, to go home.





Chapter





NINE

‘It’s done!’

I opened my eyes, blinked, then shut them again. Maybe I was dreaming. A moment later, though, I heard it again.

‘Done! Finished!’ A door opened and shut, followed by footsteps, coming closer. ‘Hello? Where is everybody?’

I sat up, then glanced at my watch. It was four fifteen, and I’d been up until six A.M. the morning before. Or that morning, actually. These days, it was kind of hard to draw a distinction.

I slid off my bed, then walked to my bedroom door, easing it open just in time to see my dad approaching Thisbe’s room, one hand already outstretched to the knob. ‘Hey,’ he said to me, ‘Guess what! I –’

Lightning quick, I reached out, intercepting his fingers just as they made contact and pulling them back. ‘Wait,’ I whispered. ‘Don’t.’