Page 28 of Straight, No Chaser
He perks up when I drop to my knees. Standing next to me, he looks back and forth between our seat and the pew in front of us. Contemplating jumping off the brown vinyl kneeler. His eyes widen when my head shakes. Yeah buddy, I am a fucking mind reader.
Parishioners stand for his favorite part. One by one they form an unhurried line that he scrambles to join in. He crosses his little arms just like mom taught him, so he can receive the blessing if not communion. Not sure if I believe in any of this. But I do the honorable thing and stand to the side while the priest offers a prayer over him. Rather than risk my mother’s ire or the flames of hell for taking the host when I know I for damn sure I haven’t met the requirement of a clean conscience to receive the body of Christ. Probably never will.
The return of his energy signals the loss of his patience. Unable to sit still any longer even with his coloring books. He skips toward the vestibule after I point to the huge stain glass window glowing from the burgeoning sunlight behind it. Happy to be free again.
His serenade fills the car, surprising me that he remembers as many words as he does. Pride thumps in my chest again. I may be a failure as a stand-in father, but he continues to amaze me with his intelligence and creativity.
"Can we go again next week?"
Fuck me. A child asking to be taken to church. Who the hell am I to say no. "Sure, if you want to."
"Yay!" He dances in his seat, which seems a bit sacrilegious to be jamming to mass hymns. But the kid does have rhythm. "We can bring Molly too. She likes to sing with me."
Hearing her name feels like a punch to the gut. Not that she has left my thoughts for even a second. I carry her with me like my Glock. Relaxed when I have my weapon, restless when I don't. Just like her love. That I better get fucking used to being without.
Eli's request reminds me how deeply I've embedded her in both of our lives. How fucking stupid I am to think that now I can so easily walk away. "Yeah, of course."
My reward for agreeing to his request is him dialing up the volume to his singing. His head tilted back against his car seat, screaming in all his off key glory. Annoying but adorable. For about two minutes. Then I'm going to fucking run us off the road just to make it stop. I hate dumping him in front of the TV but I'm losing it here. So I push the button for the DVD player. Sponge Bob's irritating laugh drowns out Eli's solo before he's totally enraptured with the cartoon. Peace engulfs the SUV. Thank fucking god.
He's antsy again by the time we reach the restaurant. Leaving fingerprints on the windows from scanning the parking lot for my Mom that the detailers are going to bitch about having to clean. But she spoils him with the only grandmotherly love he knows, so the crew will just have to understand and shut the fuck up.
Luckily it's only eight o'clock. This place's a dive, but still hugely popular. Eli would be so disappointed if our spots at the counter were taken. A booth or table would never satisfy his desire to whirl.
Eli's the perfect wing man. As soon as the waitress spots his adorable face, lit up with an enormous smile, she hustles over. Pouring coffee for me and chocolate milk for him. Without us even having to speak, she jots down our order and hangs it on the old school silver wheel. My little brother's eyes light up every time the carousel spins. His stubby fingers itching to twirl it himself. The simple joy of a four-year-old.
All he has to do is ask, and I know the waitress will let him. No one can resist his charm. I start to signal her, when a hand curls over my shoulder. "Luciano."
Mom.
Like I'm a damn kid myself, some of the heaviness weighing on my chest lifts from her soothing voice and gentle touch. I jerk around and stand, engulfing her delicate body.
Despite her frailty, she hugs me tight. Holds me too long. In the middle of this bustling restaurant forcing the wait staff, balancing steaming hot coffee pots and platters heaped with scrambled eggs and sausage links, to weave around us. I can't seem to let her go either.
"Gram Judy color with me!"
She finally releases me from Eli's request. With her palm on the side of my face, she studies me. Never flinching from my gaze. As if she knows I'm insane yet loves me anyway. More than she'll ever understand.
Her small hand, still dark with weeks old bruising, curls around mine as I help her balance to slide onto the vinyl. She clutches the counter edge to steady herself. Thankfully, Eli's oblivious to her struggle. Exactly the way she wants it to remain. Protecting him from the ravage to her body.
Our version of family may be fucked up. Yet no one can deny the love between the two of them. As strong as any grandmother and grandson. At least in spirit if not by blood.
"What have we got here?"
He slides the book over to her. Offering the left page and a red marker. "Horses! Molly lives on a farm and we're going to ride them and brush them and pick out their hooves because you have to take care..."
Now the wattage of her smile surpasses his. The enthusiasm contagious as they work. Enjoying his relentless chatter revolving around everything Molly. While I savor their easy going banter and ignore the battle raging in my conscience.
"Maybe next time you can bring Molly with you."
"That's what I said!"
Both their heads whip toward me. Mom with a knowing look that I choose to ignore. Because she's closer than she suspects to the truth behind the impact Molly's had on us. On me. Instead, I put my hands up in defeat to my brother. "Why I am in trouble? I said she could."
Eli pats her arm. "It's true. He did."
She laughs, genuine and robust, from his sincere absolution of me. A sound I haven't heard often enough lately. Saved from any more inquisition by the delivery of our food. Pancakes and bacon for us guys; veggie omelet and English muffin for her. I've got to get my ass to the gym when I get home.
Home.
