Chapter Seven
A thick fog of mist lingered in the air as Etta got closer and closer to the lake. The darkness that enveloped her, broken only by occasional street lights, was crisp and loud around her. The crickets sung a noisy cascade of love calls that was insidious this time of year. It was a symphony of sounds as she turned the corner to see Tom leaning against a lamp post. He looked long and lean, dressed in gray sweats that hung seductively across his hips, a T-shirt stretched across his biceps and chest that had several tears and had seen too many washes.
As she made her way towards him, he looked up and smiled, “Hello beautiful.” She did look like a vision, cute and perky her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail in her workout clothes with a blue windbreaker that had reflective stripes down the arms. She really looked best when she didn’t even try. After all, she probably practically bounced out of bed looking like this.
“Hello, Tom. A good morning will do.”
“Okay, good morning. But I call ‘em the way I see ‘em.”
She lightly chuckled. “Well then I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good, ‘cause that’s the way I meant it.” He gave her a tender smile.
“You showed. I thought maybe you wouldn’t.”
“And miss this lovely morning?” He said, reaching out his hand, rubbing two fingers together, to point out the wet moisture you could almost grasp with your fingers. “It might start misting on us, the fog’s so thick this morning.” “It gets like that this time of year, doesn’t it? A temperature inversion or something?”
“Yeah, it does. Just like home. Shall we go?” He gestured in the direction of their intended run. “Did you stretch?” She said, putting her hands on her hips, bending over to touch her feel in a widened stance.
“Nope.”
“Well, you’re not going to run with me until you’ve warmed up those muscles. We don’t want you hurting that knee again.” She said, bent over, gesturing with a nod that she meant his knee. His eyes were on other parts of her anatomy.
“Okay. So show me what you mean.”
She stood tall, again, hands on hips. “Give me a break, Donato. How long did you play hockey?”
He raised his eyebrows in response, still relaxed in his lean against the post. “I don’t know. Forever?”
“Then you certainly know how to stretch. You’re just messing with me. You had to have warmed up before every game. You’ve been doing this all your life and don’t try to tell me otherwise.” She walked past him, up the asphalt pathway, into a break in a clump of trees, and onto the sand beach beyond, where a picnic table sat. She lifted her leg to put her foot on the seat and began a squat to stretch her hamstring.
“Okay. So you got me. But you can’t blame a guy for wanting to see a good show.” He flashed her a wry smile, then mirrored her movements in response on a second picnic table nearby.
“Okay, so from now on, you do this on your own. Because if you just wanted to stare at my ass, this is over. Capisce?” She pursed her lips in a tight “school-ma’am” face, to show her disdain for his attempt to trick her.
“Yes, ma’am.” His smile stayed in place.
“So stretch for ten minutes before your leave your place or on the way, I don’t care. But you come here warmed up so we can just do the run.”
“Okay. But you do know some good stretches I haven’t done before.” He said, twisting his arms above his head, stretching muscles, ligaments and joints. “Where did you learn all that stuff? You’re not even in a sport.”
“I was a figure skater when I was a kid. We got up very early every morning because that was the only way we could get ice time. Some hockey jerks had it the rest of the time.” She sneered at him in a good-humored way, then smiled. “I learned my stretching there. Here.” She said, handing him a backpack.
He unzipped the pack and pulled out a plastic contraption with a spring loaded center. “This is one of those thigh things for ladies who want a tight bum, right?”
“Yes, it is. I use it every day, thank you. And it would be really good for your knees, Tom. I know it’s a femmy thing, but it builds the adductors in your hip and thigh, which would be really good to build up for you, you know, to take some of the strain off of the laterals that you’ve damaged. Try it. I’ll get a new one. You can have mine.”
“Thanks. Who would have thought? Maybe I have a future in infomercials.”
“We ladies can’t have all the fun.” She smiled, flashing a grin his direction, as she finished up her stretching.
“So for these ten minutes of stretching that I do, I get something in return.” He paused, this time, he was the one putting his hands on his hips, in a demanding stance.
“Okay. What do you want? And don’t say kissing. I don’t need a silk scarf.”
“No, that’s not it. Although that’s not a bad idea. I meant what I said … friends.” He paused, considering how to phrase his request. “I get ten minutes every morning, sitting on a bench at the end of Presque Isle, where you sit and talk to me. You tell me what’s on your mind and do your focus thing, but out loud. Deal?”
“I can handle that. Deal.” She reached a hand out to him and they did a quick shake.
“Think of it as your daily mental stretch.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” And with that, Etta started to jog, at a healthy pace, on the pathway parallel to Lakeshore Drive.
They jogged along at a vigorous cadence for a while, then Tom broke the silence. “So when did you start running? Daily is quite a commitment.”
“I started it in high school, then I went out for cross country. My swim coach said it would help my stamina in the water. He was right.” She wasn’t even breathing hard. It was such a natural thing for her. “That’s how it is sometimes. My friend – well, she’s more like a cousin, pen pal, anyway, Peggy, she started taking violin lessons and they told her she should take piano to make her better. Now she’s a virtuoso pianist.”
“One thing leads to another.”
“Exactly. Sometimes you have to find your thing in life.”
“Wow, you know a virtuoso pianist. That’s very classy.”
Etta laughed heartily. “Just wait ‘til you meet Peggy. She’s anything but classy. She’s a super-duper independent, kind of pushy chatterbox, but definitely not classy. Talented. Yeah, that’s what she is.”
“Can’t wait to meet her.”
“I’m sure you’ll get the chance. We’ve been pen pals for years. She’s having a hard time, lives in Toledo now. She’s anxious to come up here… probably for the holidays.”
They continued running, a lull in the chat.
“Swimming, huh? Not a team sport.”
“Yeah, I was a real loner. I guess in ways I still am. I always excelled at things you could do by yourself.”
“Do you like it, though, being alone? Doesn’t it get to be a drag?”
Etta didn’t answer, pounding at the pavement, thinking about an answer. She’d never really thought about it. Did she really like it? Wasn’t it a drag? Wasn’t that just what she was thinking the other day? If she had more time with people, her mind wouldn’t race as much, she wouldn’t have time for those dark thoughts to invade and take over?
“I’m sorry. Too deep, too fast.” They ran in silence for a while.
“No, it’s okay, Tom. If we’re going to do this, I have to do my part. And you can ask anything you want. I just may not choose to answer.” She pounded out another few strides. “I just had to think. I guess you’re right. It is kind of a drag.”
“I’m just the opposite. That’s what I was thinking when I asked. I’ve always been a team sports kind of guy. Everything I’ve done is with a group or leading a group, where you could never succeed alone. Yet, you have to bring everything you have in order to not let others down, you know?”
“Yes, I understand. It puts a lot of pressure on a person, you know, peer pressure.” There was another pause in the conversation. “We’re really very different people. I’m sure about that.” She smiled at him, hoping he would understand.
“So what’s your family like? You know so much about mine. I know nothing about yours.”
“Well, it’s just me and dad. My mom died when I was ten – car accident. It’s just been us ever since.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He thought how different his life would have been if he had lost his mother. She was a rock to him, a steady and sturdy source of comfort, wisdom and strength. “He didn’t ever re-marry? Or think about it?”
“Gee, I guess I never thought of that. Hmmm.” She ran in silence a while. “He was really devastated. They were – well, they were inseparable, at least in my mind. But I was young. Kids see their parents that way, I suppose.” She pondered the history of her family. “My grandma, Grandma Gen, came to stay for a while. She was there for, oh I suppose, almost a year. She and my dad… well, they shared their sorrow. It was just as hard on her, losing her only child. And my dad, well, he didn’t know what to do with me really. I poured my heart out to grandma. She always understood, still does. I know I can always go to her, but she lives down in Iowa, in a really small town. It’s nice, but there’s not much to do there, so I tend not to go much anymore. I suppose I should.”
“So you’re close to her?”
“Yeah, and now I’m close to dad too. Izzy got to meet him. He’s a real good guy. For a long time, we kind of lived, well, I suppose you could say separate in the same house. He worked a lot and I was alone most of the time. I sort of grew up alone.”
“That must’ve been hard.”
She shrugged her shoulders as she ran. “I suppose. That’s just the way it was. I just – well, I sucked it up.” She glanced over at him to see what expression she’d find on his face. “Is this too much? Too deep, too fast?”
“No, I’m tracking. So that’s how you got to be a loner, I suppose. Your dad kind of deserted you?”
“Well, yes and no. He had his own sorrow and I knew. I was a reminder because I looked like her. He took care of me, gave me what was needed. I didn’t go without, but he concentrated on his work and he’d come home real late. It was like ships passing in the night. I knew he was there and if I got in trouble, well, real trouble, he’d show up. I just never pushed it.”
A hush fell over their run, a calmness and quiet interrupted only by the muffled echo of their feet on the pavement. Then the sounds became a crunch as they made their way into the park. They strolled up the grassy embankment, to look out over the lake. The misty fog was letting up a little, the lacey remnants of moisture disappearing into the distance of the watery, hazy horizon.
Etta sat down on a log bench. “I suppose here begins today’s ten minute mental adjustment?”
He smiled and sat beside her. “I won’t push you, if you don’t want. You’ve already shared a lot. I just want to help.”
She sat and looked over the blankness surrounding her, grasping the enormity of the lake, the broad expanse of the water, of nature around her, how she was so small beside it. Weren’t they all just speckles in the dust of the world? “A deal’s a deal. And you do make me think.”
“So I don’t want to intrude, but what made you cry – the other day?” Tom crossed one ankle across his knee, leaned back, his forearms resting on the back of old-time rustic bench.
She took a deep breath and sighed it all out, leaning forward, her chin in her hands. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I just felt alone.” She glanced over at him. How could she explain yet the deep reasons she kept to herself? He had been so kind and patient, paying attention to her and offering a bond of friendship. “I know it sounds real stupid, but I just missed my father. In the past few years, I suppose from day-to-day living in close proximity, and through, you know, the general adversities of life, we’ve become real close, certainly closer than we had been when I was growing up. I don’t know. Maybe I had to grow up so that could happen. At some point we went to therapy together because he knew that things weren’t right between us. I’m really glad we did because I know now he’s got my back. I mean, I know he’ll always be there, no matter where I go, I know he loves me. I just missed that, that closeness.”
Tom gently rubbed her shoulder, resting it there to comfort her. “Yeah, I know. I’m like that with my dad.”
“It made me cry. And I hate that.”
They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the gentle swish of water on the shore. He really didn’t want to push her too much on this first day. She was actually opening up and he didn’t want to stop that. “So what do you normally do when you come out here alone?”
“I think through my day, what I have to do, how I feel about it.”
“Okay, let’s do that. What’s your plan for the day?”
“Well, I have my comp class this afternoon. We’ve got a lot to do today. We’re going over structuring a paper from top to bottom, you know outlining, intro, content, closure. I could teach that in my sleep.”
“Okay, so no worries there?”
“None whatsoever. I’m covered. So this morning I’m working on my book, well, one of my options for my book. I’ve been stuck for a while. Can’t seem to pick a genre.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve got outlines that I start, you know, general ideas for a book. Then I pick on one of them and flush it out. I’ve got a romance and a western and a mystery going now. I’m not sure which to choose but once I’ve committed then I can’t really turn back. I mean, I’ll have invested enough time to it, it wouldn’t pay. So I’m trying to flush them all out to some degree, a basic outline with plot points, get a good story arc, to see which one is better.” She looked back at him. “You think I’m nuts.”
“No, it’s kind of cool to know there’s so much to it. I just didn’t know you were so indecisive. Do you always work that way?”
“Well, no, not really. It’s just that this is a really big deal. I’m usually much more loosey-goosey. It’s my main thesis manuscript. If I fuck up, I’m screwed.” There were worry lines in her forehead now.
“Hmmm. Which one do you like best, ya know, in your gut?”
“God, you’re going to make me choose.” She looked out, away from Tom, at the lake spread out before her. “If I have to make a choice, I’d say I like the murder mystery best. But it’s the least flushed out at this point.”
“So why not flush it out? What’s holding you back?”
“I suppose I could. Hmmm… I was sort of planning to anyway, even if it just became a short story.”
“So what’s the general gist?”
“Well --- God this is embarrassing --- if you have to know, it’s kind of based on you.”
Surprised flashed across his face. “What?”
“The other day you and Donovan were, well, reminiscing about boy scout camp. I got a mental picture of the two of you there, all dirty and ornery, with buck teeth or whatever.”
“I never had buck teeth and neither did he.” He smiled.
“Oh stop it. That’s not what I meant. You know, I had a vision of you as little boys, out in the woods learning the basics of making a fire, keeping food from bears, hiding candy bars in your tent. And I thought I’d give you, well, the boys in my story, the adventure of their lives. A murder mystery to solve.”
“Hmmm, it sounds kind of fun. And I’d never be dumb enough to hide a candy bar in my tent.”
“You are so very literal. And it is kind of fun. That’s why I like what I do. The world is open to explore, the world that I create. I can make it what I want to be, no limitations and no rules. It’s the ultimate playground and very, very fun.”
Tom removed his hand from her shoulder, bringing it to his chin, pondering the depths of the notions she’d expressed. It would be too much to go further, so he’d let it alone for today. “Have you had enough?”
“Yeah, maybe I should pay you. Can we just sit here for a minute more?”
“Sure. Never a bad thing to just enjoy. And you pay me back by helping me with rehab, making me do it with you, even when it hurts.”
They sat in silence, again, as they both were in their separate worlds. After a minute or two, Tom rose, stretched his back, reached down and gently tugged on her arm. They ran back, through the preserve, in quiet for a long time. This would be good, this sharing with each other.
Tom shared with her the agony of his loss when he’d been injured -- how he’d felt less of a man, letting down his parents, family, his teammates, his home town and college, not knowing what his future would now hold. He had fears that he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own financially. He revealed the problems he had trying to conceptually change his focus from sports to his major and the deficit he felt without the camaraderie he’d had with the team and his coaches. It hadn’t been just his dream but also that of his parents’ and family. He had a responsibility to them, to hear out their concerns and disappointments and to share with them how he felt, to feel that loss together. They’d been in it all along, from the beginning, with him and they had to stick it out and deal with this trouble together or he would feel lost at sea. As he said these things to her, as they jogged back to the house, his thoughts were of his parents and the strong family they had built. He wanted so badly to have what they had together. He thought of how he could build that with Etta and that he couldn’t tell her how much he wished she could be the woman in his life.
Etta listened attentively as they ran, in concert in their strides, their thinking and their hearts. She could see the angst deep in his eyes, feel the sorrow in his words. Of course, he would try to make light of it. But she’d shared herself with him, granted a piece of herself to him, so he reached out to give her a piece of him. They would always remain in sync, in their jogging, stride-by-stride, because he had a soul full of fairness. What she gave, he would return. He wouldn’t ask for more than she was willing to give away. His concerns weren’t just for himself, but the family with which he and his sisters had such a strong bond. And that family had taken her in, were working her into their fold. He was a good man and she could trust him. Maybe someday she could trust him with what she had to hold back from the world. But not right now. Too deep, too soon.
Tom knew that she was holding something back. What was that adversity that had compelled her to bond with her dad? Maybe he should reach out to him, find out what she wouldn’t share. But he could never break her confidence to do that kind of thing. She would never open up to him again. He has to let her find trust in him alone if he has any hope of a future with her, even if it was only as a friend. Instead he decided to call his dad, if only talk about the budget for the house rehab for the winter.
When Tom got back to his room, he dialed the number of the downtown pizzeria, where he knew he could find his dad.
The voice of a young girl came over the phone line. “Donato’s. How can I help you?”
“Hey, is Tony there?”
“Yeah, hang on a sec.” He waited while he heard the woman who answered the phone call out for his dad.
Now his father’s deep, rich voice came through. “Tony here. What can I do for you?”
“Hey dad. Got time for a chat?”
“Tommy, my boy! It’s good to hear your voice. Didn’t expect you to be calling during the week. What’s the matter? Is everyone okay? Let me guess, you need money.”
“Everything’s fine, dad, everybody’s fine. No, I don’t need money. Well, I wouldn’t say no, but that’s not why I called.”
“So what’s going on? Why did you call? You usually call your mother.” He heard his father sigh on the other end of the line.
“Well, I needed your advice. If you don’t have time this morning, that’s fine. I could call some other day. Just need a guy’s take on … oh shit, dad, it’s a girl.”
“Okay. Hang on a sec, let me transfer this to the office.” Tommy waited, listening to the soothing sounds of Dean Martin in his hay-day on the hold-music his dad piped into the restaurants. “All right. I’m back in the office now. I won’t get interrupted or over-heard. A girl, huh? Who is she?”
“Does that really matter? It’s just – oh man, I thought I knew what to do but, well – I’ve never met a girl that – You know, I’ve seen a lot of girls – I mean, they drop at your feet when you’re a hockey player.”
“Can’t say that I would’ve minded that much when I was your age. Got yourself mixed up with more than one at a time?” Leave it to his father to ask such a loaded question.
“Hell, no, dad. I wouldn’t do that. Lesson learned. I just --- well, she’s kind of – I’d say messed up, but well, I – “
“Come out with it, son. If you don’t tell me the trouble, I can’t tell you what you should do, can I?”
“No, I suppose not. Well, it’s the new gal that’s moved into the house: Etta.”
“Oh, Tommy. You’ll mess things up with your sisters.”
“I know, and I don’t want to do that. I’ve kind of made an agreement that we’ll just be friends, but … well, you’ve got to see her, dad. She’s gorgeous. And, well, it’s more than that. She’s beautiful, yeah, but she’s smart and sweet and kind. She’s so good with everybody, Dad. She’s bringing Gabby out of her shell, well, trying to and she’s been hurt. She’s helping me with my rehab now, we’re running in the mornings. She got me this thing to help build up my muscles.”
“Okay. She sounds like the sort of girl I’m glad is living there.”
“Damn straight, Dad. You’ll really like her when you meet her, but … I found her crying by herself at the shore a week ago. I told her that I saw her and that I’d be her friend that we could talk every morning and I could be someone to be there for her.”
“Well, that’s damned nice of you. So what’s the problem, Tom? You want to be more than a friend, is that the deal?”
“Well, if I have to, I’d take that, but, honestly, yeah, I want more than that. I want what you have with mom.” Tom sighed deeply in frustration, rubbing his fingers through his hair. “I guess I think she might be someone I could build with to something like that. I’ve haven’t ever met anyone who I would’ve ever thought that of before.”
“That’s really good, son, but you have to take it easy, you know. It doesn’t happen overnight. Well, maybe for some, but that’s not the best way to go about that kind of thing. You don’t think your mother was crawling all over looking for the likes of me, do you?”
“Well, now that you say it that way …. Probably not.”
“Hell, no. She could’ve done a hell of a lot better – probably deserves better too, than a man slinging pizza around all day and night, living from hand to mouth with a brood of her own damned baseball team.” Tom chuckled at the picture of his dad playing baseball. As if he ever had enough time to do that! “Being friends first is the best way to go and not just plain, old friends, Tom, but life friends. You have to build up to that and that doesn’t happen in a day.”
“I told her that, dad. I told her I wanted to be a life friend to her. And today we were talking. There’s so much I know she’s holding back. It’s like it’s stuck behind her teeth just waiting to get out. Her eyes say she’s got something that’s killing her, Dad. It’s got something to do with her dad and her mom dying when she was young. I know it’s in there, trying to get out and she’ll be much better off without that on her shoulders and her mind.”
“You just can’t rush it, Tom. It’s the toughest thing you’ll maybe ever do, but you just have to listen and be the man I know you are. Those things you learned in scouts about being trustworthy – don’t ever break your word, don’t go sneaking behind her back to tell a lie or a shared secret – be the man of honor that you are – well, she’ll come to you one day. It’ll come out.”
“Do you think so?”
“I know so, son. Women are like dams in that way. They may hold back the water for a while, but eventually that water will break it down, over time and pressure, that dam will break. The dam can’t last forever, then you help them to rebuild. But don’t you dare go pushing one inch past where they need to be or the whole thing may blow up on you. Take a deep breath, Tom, because this may really hurt, in your heart, soul and mind and yeah, it may hurt you physically, as well. Take a cold shower or go kick a tree. Soak that head of yours – whatever works for you.”
“Thanks, Dad. I really needed that. I knew I could count on you.”
“Well, now that we’ve discussed the secrets of the universe – how to win a woman – well, what else can I do for you? Want me to cure cancer too?”
Tom laughed heartily. “No, not sure you’ve got the keys to the kingdom, but I know you got a woman of your own and a fine one at that. Can we talk about the budget for the house? I’ve got some figures on materials on the inside work for winter, if you’ve got more time.”
“Sure, let me grab some paper so I can take notes. Your mother will have something to say about this too.”