Easter fell unusually late that spring, and that Sunday morning dawned clear and beautiful, the air still cool from a night of Gulf breezes. But it was Houston, so by the time Jake arrived at Robin’s, the humidity was setting in to stifle the day.
Robin didn’t seem to notice—she was awfully bubbly. She had been in Burdette yesterday, working with Girt, and when she’d returned to Houston around six, she’d phoned to tell him that Reba had reached Bowling Nirvana, just like him, having scored a 200. Then she had added that she was having dinner with Evan to go over some figures.
“On a Saturday night?” Jake had asked, despising himself for sounding so needy.
“He’s got to go to New York tomorrow, so this is the only time I can catch him. I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”
Except that she didn’t call when she got home, didn’t call until this morning, apologizing profusely for having gotten in so late. Jake did not ask why, didn’t really want to know why. No, actually he did, but he didn’t think he had the right to know, and he damn sure didn’t think he could stomach it. His relationship with Robin felt as if it was on unstable footing. On the one hand, Robin seemed to enjoy each moment with him as much as he enjoyed spending time with her and seemed to want to be with him. But he never felt the same level of commitment from her. In fact, there were times it felt as if she might flit away at any moment. Then the next moment he’d believe wholeheartedly she wanted what he wanted—a family, a house. A life.
Robin came bouncing out the door with a large paper bag, her face a wreath of smiles. “Look—Easter eggs! Grandma made them for me.”
Jake peered into the bag, saw what looked like a dozen hard-boiled, painted eggs. “Ah . . . great.”
She stuffed the bag and her purse behind the truck’s bench seat and got in. “Do I look all right?” she asked.
“You look beautiful,” he said, meaning it.
She beamed. “Thank you. But what about the shoes?” she asked wiggling a pink sandal at him.
For a man who could count the pairs of shoes he owned on one hand, it seemed a rhetorical question. “What about them?”
“I mean, do they go?”
He looked at her slim-fitting capri pants and fitted blouse and shrugged. “I guess.”
She groaned, rolled her eyes. “Jake, a little help here? I’m really nervous.”
“Nervous?” He laughed. “Why?”
“Because I want to make a good impression!”
“Oh my—Baby, you’ll knock ‘em dead.” He laughed again, baffled how a woman like Robin Lear could possibly be worried what his family would think of her. The likelihood was much greater that Robin would be the one to be appalled.
But in fact, his trepidation was misplaced—it was his mom who seemed almost appalled when they arrived and Robin climbed out of the pickup truck and came striding forward. She smiled warmly, one hand gripping the paper bag with the Easter eggs, the other extended in greeting. “Mrs. Manning, it is a pleasure to finally meet you!”
Mom looked at her extended hand, took it gingerly. “Pleased to meet you,” she mumbled, and quickly let go. “Jacob? Ain’t you gonna take her bag?”
Jake bent to kiss his mom’s leathery cheek. “Happy Easter, Mom,” he said, taking the bag from Robin.
“I brought Easter eggs,” Robin announced hopefully, motioning to the brown bag.
Mom, in usual fashion, frowned. “We’re having ham,” she said. “Hope you like ham.”
“Yes!” Robin proclaimed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Yes I do!”
“Well. We better get them eggs inside,” Mom said. She paused to pull a smoke from her pocket, lit up, and exhaled as she gave Robin a quick once-over before turning toward the house. Jake held out his hand to Robin. “Jacob says you work for a freight company,” she said over her shoulder.
“Yes. Lear Transport.”
Mom had nothing say to that.
“Do . . . do you work, Mrs. Manning?”
“Not anymore. It’s all I can do to watch after Cole nowadays,” Mom said wearily and labored up the steps of her porch, opened the screen, and went inside, letting the screen door slam behind her.
God. Jake noticed, as he opened the screen door for Robin, that her smile was a little thin as she stepped across the threshold. He worried if she noticed how threadbare the carpet or dated the furniture was, or noticed the smell of turnips and stale smoke in the air.
“Yo!” he heard Zaney shout. Jesus, he was glad to hear that voice for a change. The guy had no family, and had become a permanent fixture at Jake’s family gatherings.