A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [95]
She lay awake for a long time until she heard snoring; then, taking Leonardo with her, she tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator. She had never seen so much food, most of it leftovers, a few string beans, half a chicken wing, a scoop of mashed potatoes. She stood in the glare of the open door and ate from the bowls, a little bit of everything. She tried to reseal all the plastic wrap. She was thirsty, but if she used a glass, then he’d know she’d been down here snooping around, so she drank the milk right out of the bottle. She crept back upstairs, into bed. Leonardo lay with his back to her, sound asleep. She struggled to stay awake. If she fell asleep, then it would be morning and she would have to leave this clean, quiet place. She didn’t know how much longer she could last on her own. A few more days, maybe. The last time she’d been in foster care, her mother’s rehab had taken five months. Pretty soon she’d have to be running crack full-time for Feaster. And one of these times Polie was going to get the thing he really wanted. Maybe she should just close her eyes, hold her breath, and let him, pig that he was. “Do you love me?” she whispered, and Leonardo squealed a little in his sleep. The wind stirred the leaves at the window. Hearing a creak, she sat up and listened. Was it a door? No, probably a branch in that old tree. No matter what was out there, she was safe in here.
If only Gordon would let her stay. She wouldn’t be any trouble. She’d clean the house, and every night when he came home from work she’d have his supper ready. On weekends they’d cook out on the grill, then maybe go to a movie after, and people would say, Well, will you look at that Jada Fossum—she’s certainly taking good care of that poor Gordon guy. . . .
All she could see from the doorway was a mountainous white sheet. She tiptoed to the side of the bed. He slept with the pillow over his head like she did. She lifted the sheet and slipped in, inching closer until the heat of his body met hers. He groaned, then muttered something and turned. His ragged breath blew on her neck. She curled into the hollow of his long torso. He muttered again and she froze, then smiled when he sighed against the back of her head. She lay perfectly still while he huddled closer, pulling his legs up under hers. “What do they want?” he groaned softly. She felt him stiffen against her thighs. She reached back to touch him, and his hand clamped over her belly. He moved, then sat up so suddenly that he almost knocked her off the narrow bed.
“What? What’re you doing? What’re you doing in here?”
“I got scared.”
“Get out! Get out of here!” he shouted.
“I heard a noise and I got scared.”
“Get out of here! You get out of here right now! Just leave! Leave! Will you please leave!”
“I’m sorry. Don’t be mad. Please don’t,” she begged, but he continued to demand that she leave as he stood in the corner, clutching the sheet around him. Leonardo charged in, barking at him. “I’ll go downstairs,” she said, picking up the dog. “I’ll wait there. On the couch. Just till morning. Please?”
Thick, milky clouds massed in the dawn sky. There was a damp, stony chill in the room. Maybe it had been a dream, but he knew it hadn’t been. He sat on the edge of the bed, afraid to go downstairs and find her here. He stared down at his hands. A girl, a child. He felt empty inside and numb.
CHAPTER 14
The priest was still talking about his family. He had been the youngest of six brothers. Before her marriage his mother had been a Broadway dancer. A real hoofer, he said, and laughed, recalling her annual performance in the parish musical. “The sweetest little lady, but the minute the spotlight came on—oh boy, talk about Ethel Merman.”
“Really?” Gordon murmured again. What’s the point? Why is he here? Now Father Hensile was telling him his own vocational call had come as a seventeen-year-old lifeguard at Salisbury Beach when he had rescued a woman from