The Secret Life of Ceecee Wilkes Part 22

She wondered if he always spoke in exclamations. She liked it. In the past few years, her joy had come from watching Cory change from day to day and from her cla.s.ses, when she'd learn something new and feel the possibilities wrapped up in it. She had that feeling now, a thrill that raced through every cell of her body.

Jack maneuvered Peggy Sue into a parking s.p.a.ce, then got out and opened her door for her. He took her hand as though they'd done this many times before, and they started walking toward the stadium.

"'Peggy Sue, Peggy Sue,'" he sang, "'pretty pretty pretty pretty Peggy Sue.'"

She barely stopped to think before joining in. "'Oh, Peggy, my Peggy Su-ue-ue.'"

Jack laughed, letting go of her hand to give her shoulders a squeeze.

"'Oh, I love you gal,'" they sang together. "'Yes, I love you. Peggy Sue-ue-ue.'"

He harmonized on the last line, and she grinned when the little song was over. She suddenly felt high, as if there were a drug in the air around Jack, something she was inhaling that lifted worry from her shoulders and left joy in its place. And she'd been with him all of twenty-five minutes.

The concert was wild and the crowd wilder. People pa.s.sed cups of cheap wine, from which she and Jack sipped freely. She turned down the rare joint that came her way, as did Jack, and she wondered if he would smoke if she did, if he was pa.s.sing up the chance out of deference to her. She couldn't afford to be arrested for anything, ever. She couldn't afford to be fingerprinted, either. She'd been careful at the cabin on the Neuse River, but she could never be certain she'd been careful enough.

After intermission, things got even wilder. Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, and they joined other people dancing on the stairs. She'd never danced in her life, but it didn't matter. She raised her arms above her head, singing along with "Rosalita," even though she was making up two-thirds of the words, dancing with a strange and welcome abandon.

They sang "Born to Run" as they walked back to the car, Eve stumbling over the words and not caring. "This was so much fun, fun," she said. "I mean, really. I haven't had this kind of fun in...well, a very long time."

"You're good at it," Jack said.

"I think I was at one time," she said, remembering the person she'd been before Cory. Before Tim. Before everything had turned so deadly serious in her life.

"You mean before you had to become a responsible parent?" Jack asked.

She nodded.

"You rose to the challenge, Eve," he said, his face sober for the first time all night. "I admire you for that, but I think you still have some fun left in you. What do you think?"

She nodded. "I think I do," she said.

"And you know what we need now? Desperately?"

"What?"

"Ice cream!"

She laughed. "Wow, yes!" she said, the suggestion of ice cream creating an instant need in her. His enthusiasm was infectious. If he'd said they needed toothpaste, she might have responded the same way.

It was late and they drove to the one place that was always open: the University Diner.

"I used to work here," she said as they settled into a booth.

"You did? Was it fun?"

She thought about his question, remembering the hours she and Lorraine had spent serving up grillswiths together. "Yeah, it was, actually," she said.

A waitress took their order-two hot-fudge sundaes-and then Jack reached across the table and held both her hands in his.

"So," he said. "Brothers? Sisters?"

"Neither."

"Are your parents still in Oregon?"

Back to reality. "My mother died when I was twelve," she said, "and my father is a question mark. I spent ages twelve to six...seventeen in foster homes."

He looked stunned by the answer, and she quickly added, "It wasn't that awful. I mean, losing my mother was awful, of course, but the foster homes weren't that terrible."

For the first time that evening, Jack seemed at a loss for words. Eve held her breath as he stared at her.

"I just dumped a lot on you." She tried to smile. "Sorry."

"No, don't be sorry," he said quickly. "I was just trying to imagine what it would be like to go through what you've gone through. Maybe that's why you seem so strong."

"I do?"

"h.e.l.l, yes. You have a...quality about you."

"I do?" she repeated.

"It's like you're made of steel." He let go of her hand to touch her hair. "And I don't just mean your razor-wire hair." He smiled. "I don't mean that you're cold, either. You're anything but cold. But you're tough. I knew it the minute I saw you the other night with Marian. You can't be kicked around."

She lowered her gaze to their hands. She had had been kicked around, but he was right: she would never be kicked around again. been kicked around, but he was right: she would never be kicked around again.

"I'm glad I seem that way," she said. "I had no idea."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I don't even know your major," he said finally. "What are you studying?"

"Psychology," she said. "I love it. I'm working on a paper about foster care right now."

"Good," he said fervently. "You can use your past to fuel your future." he said fervently. "You can use your past to fuel your future."

I like you, she thought. she thought.

"My family-my parents and brother-all live in Richmond," he said. "I took time off between high school and college to travel, so that's why I'm only now, at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, in my fourth year."

Tim's age, she thought. But that was the only thing the two men had in common.

"You've been lucky."

"I don't take it for granted," he said, and she nodded. "Can I meet Miss Cory?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"I like you," he said.

She stood up and leaned over the table, intending to kiss him softly, quickly on the lips, but he grabbed her shoulders to keep her from sitting down again, and the kiss turned into something she would not soon forget.

She called Lorraine when she got home, waking her up and not bothering to apologize.

"I met a guy I really like," she said.

"Well, d.a.m.n, Eve." Lorraine sounded sleepy. "For a while there, I thought you were going to come over to our side. Do I know him?"

"He's in the drama department. His name's Jack Elliott."

"You went out with Jack?"

"You know him?" She tensed, afraid Lorraine might say something that would ruin the precious sense of joy she felt.

"If you've got to be with a guy, he's a good one to be with," she said. "I mean, he's not bad-looking."

"He's gorgeous, really," Eve said.

"If you say so." Lorraine laughed. "And he's not a jock. Not the macho type."

"That's true," Eve said, "but he's still very..." She wrinkled her nose, searching for the right word.

"Manly," Lorraine supplied with a chuckle. Lorraine supplied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, that's it," she said. It was a silly word, but the image of Jack's masculine hands and perfect teeth stayed with her for the rest of the conversation, and by the time she hung up the phone, her belly felt tight with desire.

Chapter Twenty-Five.

Jack arrived at one o'clock the following day carrying a canvas bag he called the "Cory-Dory bag." Cory was not an easy child to win over, however. Especially not by a man. She'd had so little experience with them. She was generally clingy with Eve, even when she met a new woman at the park or in a store, but when Jack arrived, she leaned against Eve and buried her head against her hip.

"Ah," Jack said. "S-h-y." "S-h-y."

"Y-e-s," Eve replied. "Let's go in the living room." Eve replied. "Let's go in the living room."

She walked with difficulty, Cory clinging to her leg.

"So, what do you have in the Cory-Dory bag?" Eve asked.

"We have to sit on the floor to find out," Jack said.

"Let's sit, Cory." She pried her daughter's hands from her leg and sat down on the carpet across from Jack. Cory sat next to her, leaning against her as she eyed the stranger with suspicion.

Jack peered inside the bag. "Hmm," he said. "Cory, what do you think? Would you like to see the B-thing first? Or the G-thing? Or the P-thing?"

"Wow, Cory," Eve said. "You've got a lot to choose from. Which do you want to see first?"

Cory pressed against her, lowering her gaze to the floor.

"Well, I want to see the B-thing," Eve said to Jack.

"Oh, a very good choice," Jack said. He pulled a long green balloon from the canvas bag and began to blow it into a slender tube. "Would you rather see a giraffe or a doggie?" Jack asked.

"Giraffe." Cory's voice was so soft it was barely audible. Eve started to repeat the word, but Jack had heard it.

"A giraffe it is," he said. He gave the balloon a few twists, pulled another couple of balloons out of the bag, blew them up and incorporated them into the sculpture until he had a reasonable facsimile of a giraffe.

Cory giggled, her blue eyes crinkling up the way they did when she was amused. "Do the doggie now," she said.

"Please," Eve reminded her.

"Please," Cory said.

"We need hats first," Jack said. "I never do the doggie before everyone is wearing a hat."

He made three hats out of balloons and placed them on their heads, then began working on the dog. By that time, Cory was completely captivated.

Marian came home from the grocery store and laughed at the sight of them sitting on the floor, wearing their hats, surrounded by a menagerie of balloon animals.

"Make a hat for Marian!" Cory glanced at Eve. "Please," she added. She was on her feet by then, moving between Eve and Jack, her small, fair-skinned hand resting at times on his shoulder as he worked. Eve studied him with grat.i.tude. From where she sat, his dark eyelashes lay long and thick against his cheeks, his intent concentration a sham for Cory's sake, as he created a green-and-purple hat for Marian.

"Can you make a cat?" Cory asked.

"A big cat," Jack said. "A lion." He roared at her, shaking his curly head against her midriff and she giggled wildly.

"A lion, a lion!" She jumped up and down.

Eve looked at Marian, who stood in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, a smile on her face. She caught Eve's gaze, her eyes telling her, This is it, Eve. This is the man for you and Cory. This is it, Eve. This is the man for you and Cory.

The G-thing turned out to be water pistols. Guns. Before Jack reached into his bag for them, he insisted they go into Marian's small backyard. When he first pulled out the gun, Eve gasped. Suddenly she didn't know him. He was a stranger, capable of hurting them.

"Cory!" she shouted at her daughter, who stopped her wild running and looked up at the alarm in her voice.

By then, Jack had produced a yellow gun and a red gun, and she realized they were all made of cheap plastic. Still, her heart thudded in her chest.

"They're already filled." Jack didn't seem to notice her reaction. He handed her the red pistol, and Cory the yellow.

"What am I 'upposed to do?" Cory looked in bewilderment at the water pistol in her hand.

"Should I show her, Eve?" Jack pointed his pistol at Cory.