Page 11 of Vespertine
Nicky laughed under his breath as he lifted his foot fromthe gas pedal, slowing reluctantly to make the turn onto Bayview, his parents’road. He knew Jazz better than he knew anyone. No matter what named he went by.Priest or not.
The trees thinned along the banks of Little Bay and he couldsee the water sparkling in the summer sun. The water looked inviting andplacid, and, with the back of his sweaty T-shirt sticking to the seat, he wastempted to pull over and jump in. But appearances could be deceiving. Thissection of the bay was unpredictable and changeable. Local lore claimed thatits swift current once sucked a man in and spit him out forty miles away in theocean.
Nicky decided against taking any stupid chances just for athrill. That was what he was trying to move away from, wasn’t it? Dr.Rodriguez, his new therapist, had spent a lot of time talking about good highs(exercise, interacting with friends) and bad highs (taking insane risks, usingdrugs). He figured it was progress that he remembered the discussion and was choosingto apply it now.
He pulled at his sticky shirt and cast another longingglance toward the water.
“Besides, good ol’ Buckley already scored the drowningdeath,” he murmured to himself. “If you’re going to go out, at least becreative about it, jackass.”
He could wait to swim in the pool when he got home. It wasn’teven two miles down the road. Nicky snorted at himself. His impatience andself-sabotaging streak were truly devils on his shoulders. Where was his angelwhen he needed him? The top of his left foot itched and he gritted his teeth. “Fine.I’ll be good. The pool will be nice. Clean. No fish.”
But if he wanted fish nibbling at his legs as he swam, hecould complete his experience with a dive off the dock into the cove behind hisparents’ house. The currents there were slow and shallow.
A few minutes later, as Nicky pulled up the drive to theblue and white Queen Anne-style house, he had his first moment of grippingdoubt that coming home was the right thing to do. The place was crawling withmemories. There was the basketball hoop at the wide end of the driveway wherehe and Jazz had played games ofHORSE. Out overthe glimmer of the cove, he sighted the island where their old fort stillstood. Its rusted tin roof reflected the afternoon sun, glowing orange like afire in the trees.
Nicky climbed out of the car, imagining their former selves runningaround the corner of his parents’ home trailing a homemade kite behind them. Hewas relieved, though, that the small forest between his parents’ and Jazz’sfolks’ place had grown up enough that he couldn’t see their barn-red clapboard.There had never been much love lost between Nicky and Jazz’s mother, and hedidn’t need the memories of Mrs. Hendricks’s cold judgment right now.
The front door burst open, and Nicky took a deep breath ashis tiny mother ran out. She flew down the sidewalk with her hands outstretchedand her tight salt-and-pepper curls bouncing in the summer sun. His heartlifted at the sight of her knee-length colorful summer skirt flying out behindher and her Birkenstocks flapping against the sidewalk. Her white sleevelessblouse burned his retinas in the bright sun, but he could still make out thesimultaneous smears of fear and joy on her face.
“Nicky!” Miriam exclaimed.
Then she was in his arms. He lifted her up, pressing hisface to her shoulder. She smelled like the rosemary hair oil she’d always usedto tame her curls and he took a deep breath, tears pricking his eyes. Againsthis chest, he could feel the thrum of her heart. How he admired that strong,vibrant organ that had always loved him unconditionally and so much more thanhe’d ever deserved.
“Hey, Mom,” he whispered and as he set her down on theground, she pulled away, touching his cheeks and gazing up at him.
Miriam’s dark brows lowered over her sharp black eyes, andher sloping nose pointed down to her wide, sad mouth. “Sweet baby, what haveyou done to yourself?”
Her rosemary scent filled him with the only sense of safetyhe’d ever allowed himself outside of Jazz. Nicky swallowed the lump in histhroat, but it stubbornly rose again. “Mom, I need help.”
He meant so many things by that but he couldn’t voice themall or he’d start sobbing in the driveway while they baked in the summersunshine.
“We’ll help you, Nicky. We’ll always help you.”
Nicky swallowed hard and glanced out over the grass thatrolled down to the cove. The old wooden steps headed past the pool and thepicnic table on the left, and on down to the dock where his father’s fishingboat bobbed in the drifting current across from his old rickety canoe. “Can wego inside? It’s been a long day.”
“Did you bring any bags?”
“No. Just the clothes on my back. Well, and my backpack.” Itwas chock full of maintenance meds and vitamins. “But I’ll get that later.”
“All right. We have some of your old things in the drawersin your room.” She looked him over critically. “You’re so thin right now, Ithink they’ll still fit you. Oh, Nicky. You look so…” she trailed off, her eyestracing the sharpness of his face. He knew what he looked like: hollows forcheeks, dark rings under his eyes, and thin enough to cut paper.
“I’ll be okay, Mom.”
“We need to feed you.”
Nicky smiled. “Yeah. I figured you’d want to fatten me upfirst thing.”
Miriam chuckled but her laugh wasn’t joyful like it’d beenwhen he was a kid. “Of course I do.” She touched his arm and then tugged hishand. “Come on in, then. I’m so glad you’re here, sweetie.” She slipped his armover her shoulder and her own around his waist, authoritatively guiding him towardthe house “If I’d gotten your message in time to do some shopping, I’d havemade matzo ball soup, but all I have is sandwich fixings for lunch. I plannedstir fry for your father tonight. Do you like stir fry now? I know you didn’tas a little boy, but I think it’s because I made you eat the vegetables and notjust the meat.”
Nicky chuckled, squeezing her as they lopsidedly navigatedthe front steps up to the white-trim porch. He purposely ignored the whitewooden rocking chairs in which he and Jazz had played rocket ships to Mars backwhen they were too young to know that they’d grow up to kiss and fuck and breakeach other’s hearts.
“You were always on me to eat my colors.” He’d eaten a tonof colors over the years—pink pills, blue pills, green pot, and rainbow acid. “Theyfed me rabbit food in rehab, so anything you make will be amazing.”
Miriam looked up at him, and her sadness twined with hisown. He thought maybe he should have just given in and cried in the drivewayafter all because the pressure from holding it back ached and ached andached.
When Nicky’s eyes strayed to the curved stairs that led upto the bedrooms and the set of hidden stairs to his old attic room, Miriamsaid, “I got rid of all the—” Her hands fluttered. “The drug paraphernalia inyour old room like you asked me to. I flushed a little bag of pot I found andthrew away the rest of the things.” She sighed. “I had no idea that was upthere. A mother should know.”
He shook his head and wrapped his arm around her shouldersagain. “I didn’t want you to know. You can’t blame yourself.”
