Dumplin - Julie Murphy Page 0,80
deal with the janitor keys?” I ask.
He glances over his shoulder. “Oh. From my dad.” He scoots around and leans against the bed. I do the same.
“I started collecting them when I was a kid. My dad would get me to help him clean out his van by telling me I could keep whatever spare keys I found. They’re mostly miscuts or old keys people couldn’t use anymore.”
Our hands sit splayed out on the carpet, our fingers not even an inch apart. “Do you still help him?”
He shakes his head. “Things changed when I started going to Holy Cross. I was always busy with basketball. And friends, I guess. I don’t know. Life started feeling too important for his stupid keys. You know how you start getting these big plans for your life and suddenly all the work your parents do feels so meaningless? And I guess I was embarrassed by him. I got pretty used to seeing all the dads at Holy Cross in their polo shirts and khaki pants that I started to beg my dad not to pick me up in his van.” He shakes his head. “I was an asshole. I still am sometimes.”
“I think being embarrassed by your parents is as much a part of growing up as getting taller.”
He smiles with his lips closed. “I used to love watching him pick locks. Just the way he’d stand there listening to the lock like it was his favorite song. And then it would click.”
“I don’t know if it matters, but I don’t think you’re an asshole. For the most part.”
“It wasn’t my dad,” he says. “My ex-girlfriend. Amber. I was horrible to her. She wanted so badly to be there for me. She went to every single one of my games. Even the away games if she could swing it. And all I did to thank her was take her to dark movie theaters to fool around or hang out in her dad’s TV room and watch basketball. I thought she was using me as some kind of status symbol, so I figured it didn’t matter. But she wasn’t getting anything from me she couldn’t get anywhere else.”
My mouth goes sour. This scenario sounds too familiar. And it’s nothing I want to revisit. “What does Loraine do?”
His entire body blushes and he covers his face with his hands so that I can barely see him. “She throws romance parties.”
“Wait.” I try so hard not to laugh. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
He throws his head back against the bed. “Romance parties.”
“Like, um, sex toys?”
He turns an even deeper shade of red.
“My mom works at a nursing home,” I tell him to try to save him even if his blushing may be the most adorable thing ever.
He turns to face me, his color fading. “I thought she was the beauty pageant lady.”
“She is. She’s the beauty pageant lady who wipes your grandparents’ asses by day.”
“Wow,” he says. “I never would’ve thought.”
I sigh. “The glamorous life.”
“So you really entered the pageant?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “Why?” Everyone seems to have something to say about me entering and I’m sure Bo is no different.
“Well, I’ve always thought pageants were dumb, but I thought that about Dolly Parton, too.”
I smile. “Right answer.”
“What about your aunt?” he asks. “The one that passed away.”
I swallow. “She didn’t work. She was on disability.”
“Oh, so it was kind of expected? I mean, that doesn’t make it better. I meant that—”
“No.” My voice is soft, but he hears me. “It wasn’t expected.”
He waits for me speak.
“She was big. Not like me. Like, five hundred pounds big. She had a heart attack. She took care of me, though. Like a second parent.”
“I wish there was something better to say than ‘I’m sorry.’”
We sit there for a few minutes watching the shadows created by the blowing tree limbs outside of his plastic blinds.
“I think he was kind of happy when I lost my scholarship.”
“Why would he be happy about that?” I ask, knowing without a doubt who “he” is. He crosses his arm and when he does, his hand brushes mine. Every little thing—hands touching and doors sealing—sends a shooting warmth up my spine.
“I don’t even mean happy, really. More relieved.” He leans his head back again and watches the mini basketballs hanging from the chains of his ceiling fan. I imagine it must be weird to live in this shrine dedicated to a sport he can’t play anymore. “I think I was on this path to get