Page 20 of A Heart of Little Faith
“Well, maybe you should consider Stacy. If it’s the chair you’re worried about, don’t be. She thinks guys in wheelchairs are hot.” He winked and nudged one of the guys next to him.
Gideon cringed. That was all he needed. He didn’t relish the role of sideshow freak. It was one of the reasons he enjoyed Lily’s company so much. She treated him like she would anyone else. Thankfully, Bill stepped in and shifted the attention away from him.
“Speaking of setting up, any chance you could set me up with your sister, Gideon?” he asked.
“Yeah, now she’s hot,” added Mark. His hands illustrated her body, and Gideon elbowed him in the ribs.
An urge to protect his sister rose in him and he squashed it, knowing Samantha would hate it. “Watch it, Mark, or I’ll have a chat with Kim.”
Mark raised his arms in the air in surrender and admitted defeat. The table roared, since all of them knew he was smitten with his wife.
“Well, say the word,” Joe said, “and I’ll introduce you to Stacy.”
Gideon grimaced. Joe wasn’t going to drop this, and he wouldn’t let Joe set him up. Even thinking about it made his shoulders curl. Dizziness overwhelmed him. Not only would he have to worry about what Joe would say to Stacy or whatever potential date he thought appropriate, he’d also have to deal with his boss’ follow-up questions and comments. Never happening. He drank his beer, ate his Buffalo wings and made a quick exit. He’d have to develop a plan before the next work event.
****
After leaving work early, Lily waited for Claire outside of school. Built in the 1930’s, the old brick building still showed signs above the doors to mark separate entrances for girls and boys. Inside, the building reeked of floor polish, chalk and cafeteria food. Outside, the bell rang, and children tumbled out the doors in a cacophony of high-pitched voices and vibrant colors.
Finally Claire appeared. She dragged her backpack on the ground. Her rubber soles squished and her key chains clicked on the pavement as she meandered over to her mother. Lily frowned. Claire was usually giddy after a full day of school.
“Hi, sweetie, how was your day?” Lily bent and kissed the top of her daughter’s head. Claire’s curls brushed her lips, reminding her of silk.
“Fine.” Claire passed Lily, skipped her usual hug and kiss and walked ahead of her on the sidewalk.
Lily rushed to catch up. “Is anything wrong?” She reached for her hand, but Claire yanked it away and kept moving, her gaze focused on the sidewalk.
“No.”
Okay. Maybe she needs some time. “So, what’d you do in school today?” The false brightness in her voice could have illuminated an entire skyscraper, but it did nothing to lighten Claire’s mood.
“Nothing.”
Nothing?Lily didn’t think it was possible for a first grader to do nothing for five minutes, let alone an entire day. They were quiet as they trudged through Tompkins Square Park. Shade from the elm trees did nothing to cool Claire’s mood. Most days, she watched people play basketball, or beg to play in the playground, but today she didn’t. A couple of blocks later, they approached the community center where Gideon volunteered. Claire stopped at the fence and peered into the deserted lot. She pressed her face into the metal bars and hunched her shoulders. Lily longed to run her palm down Claire’s bony spine, to feel the warmth of her daughter’s skin through her cotton T-shirt and to kiss all of her troubles away. But her advances would be rejected. Instead, she clenched her fist and kept it at her side.
After a moment, Claire shuffled up the street to their apartment.
“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong, honey?”
“I’m fine, Mom.” Each word oozed contempt and made her sound closer to thirteen than six. They entered their apartment and Claire stormed straight into her room. Usually a cheerful place, the oppressive stillness wrapped itself around Lily and stifled her.
“Do you want a snack?” Food always improved Claire’s mood.
“No.” Her daughter closed her door, and the click of the spindle in the mortise of the doorjamb reverberated in her head.
Lily studied the closed door, as if the plywood could clue her into her daughter’s heart. Claire had shut her out. Her fists clenched at her sides, she considered barging in and making Claire describe what was bothering her. But Lily didn’t want that kind of relationship with her daughter. Although the child was only six, Lily decided to give her a little space to see what happened. She put away her briefcase, made a few quick calls for work and checked her office email account. In a few days, Armadillo’s new product would launch and she wanted to make sure everything was ready. After she assured herself that her assistant was capable of taking care of everything, Lily put aside the rest of her work and headed into the kitchen to see about dinner.
I hate this part of the day. She rubbed away the beginning of a tension headache.It’s boring cooking for the two of us and I’m out of ideas for dinner. It’s not like Claire particularly cares what we eat anyway.Daniel’s words echoed in her mind and she stood with the refrigerator door ajar.“What are the four food groups? Order in, take out, frozen and canned.”He used to tease her whenever she complained about cooking.
“But he’d take over the kitchen for me,” she said softly. She bit her lip to fight the tears and closed the refrigerator door. She missed the camaraderie of having her husband here, of having another person who understood her instinctively. With a deep breath, she decided to check on Claire. “Dinner can wait,” she said, louder this time. She held her head high and reviewed in her mind the latest parenting advice she’d read in a magazine as she marched to Claire’s door.Patience. She knocked, asked if she could come in, and opened the door to the pink and purple room. Claire sat in the middle of her bed, her stuffed hippo clutched in her arms.
“Please tell me what’s wrong, honey.” Lily sat next to Claire on the bed. The soft, fluffy comforter bunched around her hips as she sat down. Instead of hugging her daughter, she reached over and patted the hippo. Worn from six years of hugs, drool and laundry, it still was soft beneath her fingers. “Maybe I can help.”
Claire’s her face was blotchy, her voice teary. “I told Gideon I’d make him a picture for his refrigerator.”
“I remember.” She waited. Claire pulled out a picture from her backpack and gave it to her. Lily’s fingers glided over the smooth paper and slowed as they ran over waxy crayon lines and shapes.
“It’s not very good.”