breathe again, released from the burden of carrying his memory. We would walk along the beach at Sands Point, not far from Sal’s house on Long Island. I don’t know why my dreams took me there. I had never liked being at Sal’s, though the North Shore of Long Island was beautiful. How could I? Sal’s house looked like heaven, but it hid all sorts of hell. There were bodies in the rugs and dead girlfriends on the beaches.
“Merry Christmas, Pop,” I whispered, pushing Carla out of my thoughts. There was no space for her.
Esther was already awake, though when I looked at my watch, I realized it was past noon. The long hours, stressful days, and late nights had taken their toll. I could hear Esther in the kitchen, pots and pans clanging. She’d been unable to shrug off her suspicions about Sal taking Maude’s earrings, and I didn’t blame her. I hadn’t been able to shrug anything off for a long time, and I sure as hell didn’t have any answers. We’d come home from the Christmas Eve party well after midnight, and we’d all retreated to our corners, everyone nursing their homesick hearts and private fears, and so tired it didn’t do any good to dwell on them or talk them out.
Christmas was a giant pain in the ass. Everyone was a child at Christmas, a whiny, sad child with unmet expectations and a longing for past Christmases and people that we’d failed to appreciate at the time.
Pop had always made sure I had presents, though I hadn’t been especially interested in toys or trucks or even books. He bought me records and instruments and even a record-cutting machine of my own, so I could record my own compositions. The thing hadn’t been cheap, and I’d loved it, and spent hours tinkering with it. I hadn’t acknowledged his efforts most of the time, and that realization left me hollow now.
I pulled a sweater over my undershirt and pulled on a pair of socks before starting the fire, though I wasn’t particularly good at it. We didn’t have a fireplace in the apartment on Arthur Avenue. By the time I got it going, my hands were soot streaked and the smells coming from the kitchen—bacon, fried potatoes, and pancakes—were gnawing at my belly.
I washed in the kitchen—Lee Otis had ducked into the bathroom before me—while Esther hovered over the stove. Nat King Cole was singing “The Christmas Song,” and she was all in, flipping pancakes and singing along, wearing a baby-blue housedress and barefoot. I brushed my teeth and watched her move, enjoying the show.
“Where are your shoes, Baby Ruth?”
“You can’t wear high heels with a housedress. And I’m comfortable.”
“The floor is too cold. You should put on those nurse shoes.”
“I couldn’t do it. They’re just too ugly.”
I wrapped my arms around her, her back to my front, and placed her feet on mine.
“There. That’s better,” she said, laughing as I waddled around like a father penguin with her perched on my feet, protecting her from the floor.
“Merry Christmas, Baby Ruth,” I whispered, kissing her cheek.
“Merry Christmas, Benny.”
I nuzzled the side of her neck and the lobe of her ear before Money interrupted us with a groan.
“Merry Christmas, Money,” Esther said, ignoring his displeasure, but I didn’t let her go. I just scooped her up and dropped her in a chair.
“I’ll get this,” I said. “You sit. My pop and I always took turns. You cooked. I’ll dish it up.”
Money helped me, and Alvin and Lee Otis joined us minutes later, crowding around the food with enthusiasm. I brought the candy-filled socks from beneath our tree. I had an extra sock from the three pairs I’d purchased, and I dumped out my candy and used that sock and the spare on Esther’s feet, crouching in front of her to pull them on. They weren’t a match, but she looked damn cute.
“Way better than those ugly shoes,” she declared, holding her feet up for inspection, but when I went to rise she leaned over and dropped a kiss on my mouth, right in front of her brothers, knocking me back on my ass. Her eyes were bright, like I’d done a whole lot more than put a cheap pair of mismatched socks on her icy feet.
Esther was moved by the oddest things, and I wished we were alone so I could ask her why. In my dead father’s constant presence, I had fallen in love with a complicated woman,