But for all of these graces, David knew that the worst lay ahead of them. Delores was right—school loomed, an unknown meteor that could, at any moment, smash their newly constructed, peaceable lives to bits. For the last three weeks, they had shuttered themselves from the outside world, giving their family a chance to find a new equilibrium. Now that was about to end. He and Delores had always had a large social circle. Both of them had endured lonely childhoods, raised as only children in patrician, genteel families with workaholic fathers, and because of this, they had each sought out a different kind of life once they left home. David and Delores had married young, forced to by David’s father, Senator Harold Coleman, after Delores became pregnant in college. (David had often wondered if he and Delores would have married so young had she gotten pregnant just a few years later, after Roe v. Wade had legalized abortion.) As it was, they couldn’t be out partying or dancing the night away like their friends, so they entertained at home. And once Connor had married Janet six months later, then started his own family, the Colemans and the Stevenses had been inseparable, spending major holidays together, even vacationing together except when the Colemans were visiting the senator at his vacation house on the Cape.
David glanced out the window. It was still light outside. He slipped out of his bedroom and knocked on Anton’s door. He remembered how surprised the boy had been the first time he’d rapped on the door for permission to enter. Hadn’t his mom done the same? David had inquired. Anton had looked at him incredulously for a second. “No,” he’d mumbled. Then, as if he had somehow betrayed his mom by this admission, the boy had added a little defensively, “My mam let me have the bedroom. She slept on the couch.”
But now Anton responded with a matter-of-fact, “Come in,” and David poked his head in.
“Hey, fella. You want to shoot some hoops?”
The boy grinned. “Sure.”
The first time he and Anton had played together in the driveway, David had been self-conscious, wondering if the steady thud of the ball reminded Delores of the ferociously competitive games he and James used to play. But Delores had not reacted, and as the weeks went by, David relaxed. Anton was a steady, focused player, but he was not competitive, and David refrained from talking trash with him, the way he used to with James.
They played until it grew dark outside and their T-shirts were damp with sweat. When they finally looked up, they saw the two glasses of lemonade Delores had left on the steps leading to the back of the house. David and Anton sat side by side on the stone steps, sipping the drink.
“This is so gooood,” Anton said. David giggled. “What? Why you laughing?”
David shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Who should I ask?” Anton said, putting his hand on his hip and sounding exactly like Delores.
“Hey. That’s Dee’s line. Come up with your own.”
A slight breeze rose from the grass and cooled their damp T-shirts. Summer, David thought. A hot evening with a cool breeze. Lemonade. A game of hoops with his son. Life didn’t get better than this.
He caught himself immediately. Anton was not his son. Anton was someone else’s son, a borrowed gift he would soon return. His own son, his blood, his legal heir, was dead.
Anton pulled at one of the hairs on David’s knee. “David,” he said, “I don’t want to go to the party tomorrow.”
David was struck by the contradiction—the intimacy of Anton’s unconscious gesture, juxtaposed by the distancing act of calling David by his first name. Other foster children called their foster parents Mom and Dad, he and Delores had learned during their training. But not Anton. At least the boy didn’t call him Mr. Coleman. As for his wife, Anton and Delores had come up with a good compromise. The boy called her FM, for foster mom and for, as Anton had put it with a giggle, FM radio. The code name was ironic, playful—and did not betray James in any way. It worked for Delores.
David focused his attention on Anton. “Why not, buddy?” he said, keeping his tone light. “It’s a fun party. Lots of food, lots of games for kids.”
“But David.” Anton’s voice was urgent. “I won’t know anyone there.”
He turned slightly to look at the boy, but Anton was staring straight ahead. What did he see, David wondered, in this lush, manicured lawn with the azalea bushes, the flower beds, the pond with the exotic fish?
“I know. But here’s the thing. These people—many of them, anyway—are our friends. And you are now part of our family. So you have to get to know these people, right?”
“But David. I’ll be gone soon. Soon as the judge lets my mam go home.”
Before David could control his body, he stiffened. That’s how Anton saw himself, as a guest. It didn’t matter what he or Delores said or did or felt. He tasted the bile in his throat and felt a sudden bitter detachment from the boy sitting next to him. What difference did it make? Beyond a new wardrobe and some nice table manners, what could they provide Anton? Why was Delores breaking her back trying to improve his diction, his spelling and grammar? Let the boy wallow in his ignorance, let him believe that Hitler and George Bush were mortal enemies. Anton was right. Chances were his mother would be home in no time, long before he and Delores could combat the damage done by his lousy education, his absent father, his worthless mother. David, of all people, understood sentencing guidelines for child endangerment—hell, she could serve as little as four to six months. Even if Bob tacked on the drug possession charge, she would still be out in no time.
He shook his head. Anton was staring up at him, his mouth slightly open, a scared look in his eyes. Lord, he must look a sight. What had Anton read on his face? He had no business taking out his frustration on the boy.
“David,” Anton whispered, “I’m sorry. I’ll go to the party with you.”
He forced his face into a smile. “Only if you want to, Anton.” Then, “Though I think you’ll have a great time. And I’ll be by your side all afternoon. Okay?”
“Okay,” the boy said.
David forced himself to not hear the unease in the boy’s voice. But his heart was heavy as he rose to follow Anton into the house, where he could almost feel Delores’s disapproval at dragging the boy to a party where he would come face-to-face with his mother’s prosecutor.
CHAPTER FOUR
The first few days were fine. He had worried when his mother didn’t come home that first night, but then he remembered that a year ago she had stayed away all night, and when she returned home the next day, she had given him a dollar bill for being a brave little boy. And besides, it was kind of fun, staying up and watching TV all night long, munching on potato chips and the cheddar cheese left over from the visit to the food pantry at the beginning of the month. The power was still on then, so the apartment was cool and the fridge humming.