“Course you’re not.” Jimmy looked back over his shoulder at me. Three bloody lines were etched into his cheek.
The sight brought the cold rushing back in. “We need to get your face cleaned up. Let’s get inside.”
“You knew she was in town? Last I heard she was still in LA.” David watched the retreating form of his mother, her long dark hair flying wild in the wind.
“She tracked me down to the hotel, rang this morning.”
David’s lips flat-lined. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Got enough going on without worrying about her,” said Jimmy.
“Fuck’s sake, man. She’s my mother.”
“Yeah, mine too.”
His brother’s forehead went all wrinkled. It must be a Ferris thing, they both did it at times of stress, bewilderment or just about any other emotion. Meanwhile, Jimmy hadn’t moved an inch. He just stood there, bleeding.
“It’s cold,” said David.
Jimmy turned, giving their mom one last look. To all the world, his gaze must have looked bored, irritated. But the fingers fussing at the bottom of his jacket gave him away, to me at least. He wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he’d wish everyone to believe. “What do you wanna do, put her in a shelter? She won’t stay. Should we buy her some warmer clothes? She’ll have them traded for booze and drugs in under a minute. It’s all she cares about and all she wants.”
“Yeah, but …”
“But what?” asked Jimmy, blood slowly dripping from his face.
“Shit.” His brother shoved a hand through his shoulder length hair. They really were similar in so many ways. “Is it really that easy for you to just turn away?”
“I know it’s cold, Davie. I know.”
“Fuck man, you okay?” Mal asked.
Jimmy flinched as if receiving the wound anew. “Yeah. I’m real sorry about that, her turning up here and everything …”
“Boys, this was not your fault.” Everyone should have a dad like Mal’s. His voice was absolute, brooking no bullshit. Jimmy’s mouth opened to protest and Mr. Ericson held up a hand. “No, son. That’s enough. Why don’t we all go back inside now, get out of this wind.”
With the show over, the spectators on the front steps started moving back inside. Jimmy nodded and likewise did as he was told. I followed him and Mal into the downstairs bathroom, every part of me wound tight with agitation. I wasn’t normally a violent person. What I wouldn’t give to take another shot at the woman, however.
The bathroom was a narrow, cramped space. Apparently the Ericsons hadn’t upgraded with the help of their son’s money. The house was an older-model, wooden two-story, surrounded with now-dormant flower beds. Photos lined the hallway showing all the colors that grew there in the spring, however. My mom loved gardening. She always fussed on the weekends in winter, never quite knowing what to do with herself. Usually she took up some expensive intricate craft that got dumped the moment the ground thawed. A sudden wave of homesickness washed over me.
Which was silly.
No way did I want to go home yet. After my sister’s farce of a wedding, once all of the fuss had died down? Fine. Then I’d spend some time with my parents, reconnect, and make things right. I’d catch up with my old friends and see what was left for me back home. It was a promise.
“Mom kept all the first aid stuff here.” Mal rifled in the sink cupboard, pulling out a battered white box. “Ah, there you go.”
“It’s not that bad,” said Jimmy. “I’ll just wash it off.”
“Definitely not,” I said.
“And risk letting that handsome face get infected?” Mal tutted, interceding flawlessly. “Please, princess. For me?”
Jimmy gave him a faint smile and accepted the box.
“And I’m pretty sure you’d rather have Lena playing nurse. I’ll leave you two kids to it.”
I flattened myself against the wall and Mal squeezed past, backing out into the hallway. “Yell if you need anything.”
The lid on the old first aid box creaked mightily as Jimmy pulled it open. “Yeah.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at Mal.
He winked.
“Right. Sit on the edge of the bathtub,” I instructed, taking charge.
Jimmy sat, inspecting the dark red stains on the front of his shirt. “This is ruined.”
“You’ve got others.”
“I had this made especially at Saville Road in London. You have any idea what something like that costs?”
Please. The man had more money than god. “You hitting me up for a loan?”
He snorted.
“Because honestly, I don’t know if I like you enough for that.”
“Wasn’t aware you liked me at all,” he said, smoothing down his shirt as if that would help matters. He was right, the thing deserved a one-way ticket to the ragbag.
“Hmm. You’re not so bad. I’ve met much, much worse.” And we didn’t really need to get into that anytime this decade. I snapped my mouth shut and pushed up my glasses, got busy digging in the medicine chest. “What have we’ve got here.”
“Listen, Lena, about today …”
I waited for him to finish. And waited. “What?”
He scowled at the wall, avoiding my eyes completely. “I just … I just wanted to say, ah …”
“Yes-s-s?”
“Well, that um, you were useful.”
“I was useful?” My brows rise to dangerous heights, I could feel them. After everything we’d been through today, useful was as good as it got?
A shrug. “Yeah, mostly.”
“Mostly? I was mostly useful.” Slowly, I shook my head, biting back an incredulous grin. Lucky my sense of self-worth wasn’t dependent on him or it’d be a sad, shriveled wreck hiding out in the corner by now. This man, he did my head in. It seemed only fair to repay the favor in kind. “I think that’s just about the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Mr. Ferris. It was just beautiful, like poetry. I’ll never think of the word useful the same way ever again.”
He sniffed disdainfully, giving me a dour look. “Great. And it was mostly useful.”
“Yes, sorry, mostly useful. Wow. I just don’t know how to thank you.”
“Less talk’d be a good start. Let’s get this over with.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” I stopped short of saluting, but only just.
Down the hallway drifted various noises as the wake slowly started winding down. There was the clink of plates and cutlery being gathered. I could hear Mal saying goodbye to someone followed by the hair-raising bang of the front door. It must have been caught by the wind. Some old Bob Dylan tune played low beneath it all.
“You’re welcome by the way,” I said, softening my voice, cutting him a break. His day, after all, had been far worse than mine. Plus, it obviously wasn’t easy for him to say thank you. Not that he’d exactly managed to. “I’m glad I was here to help.”
He looked up at me, eyes unguarded. At least, they weren’t cold and hard for a change.
“Me too,” he said quietly.
For a moment, I actually forgot myself. We just stared at each other in near silence, like we were waiting for something or trying to figure something out. I don’t know. It was weird.
Then he turned away.
“Lena, hello?” He pointed to his cheek. “I’m still bleeding here.”
“Right,” I ripped into a fresh pad of gauze, then got busy wrestling with the lid on the disinfectant. Stupid childproof locks. “Let’s see if we can’t fix you.” When I sneaked a look he was staring off into infinity again, I’d apparently been tuned out.
“This’ll sting,” I said, liberally dousing the gauze. “Who knows how dirty her nails were. We need to clean it really well.”
He wrinkled his nose at the smell. “Don’t pretend you’re not going to enjoy it.”
“You wound me. As if I’d ever enjoy causing you mild pain or discomfort.” I couldn’t quite keep the smile off my face. Of course, I didn’t quite bother. Verbally sparring with Jimmy was fast becoming more fun than I’d had with most other men naked. Which was sad.