The Rockmore House

41 | Dusk Light

Even though I was more distracted than ever, I somehow made it through the last day of school before winter break. On the drive home I recognized someone walking along the sidewalk against the blowing wind and swirling snow. I pulled into a driveway and blocked his path. His mouth and nose were buried in the zipped up collar of his coat and there were snowflakes scattered in his dark hair and eyebrows. My heart had been aching all day, and it only intensified at the sight of him.

"What are you doing?" I asked Pete through the window. "Get in."

I backed out of the driveway and drove in the opposite direction to take Pete back to Eric's house, even though he might be angry with me for coming to his rescue. He warmed his cupped hands over the heating vents, stretching his fingers out as they thawed. I struggled to keep my eyes on the road and to stop glancing at his hands and thinking about how how good it felt when they'd held my face and grasped my waist only a few hours before.

"I walked to the car dealerships," he said. "And to the one garage left in town. Looking to see if they're hiring. No luck though."

"I told you I could help you look for jobs. You didn't have to go walking around in the cold."

I could help him search for job openings, but I wasn't sure how to work out the official stuff, like when it came time to produce a driver's license and social security card. If he wanted a job, he might have to look for something where he'd get paid under the table.

"Well, now I know I won't find a job I can walk to, so I'll have to get something to drive. Which will be a problem because I'm flat broke."

"Why don't you give yourself a break? You don't need to find a job right now. You have broken ribs and you need to rest."

He rubbed his side and frowned. "They're bruised is all. I'm done resting."

"Yeah," I said sarcastically, "doctors love to lie about things like that."

"Taking a break isn't gonna do me any good. I need a job so I can get out of that house. Most of them are nice enough, but it's..."

"Uncomfortable?"

"For me it is. You seem pretty comfortable there, though."

"I guess I am, kind of," I admitted. "I mean, as comfortable as someone can be around a bunch of highly educated successful geniuses."

"Nah, you're like a part of the big happy family."

"I wouldn't go that far. They're friendly, hospitable people and they want to help you out, so let them."

"You're gonna be one of them someday," he said in a deadened voice. "Eventually you and your friends will all be doctors and lawyers and maybe if I can find a damned job I can fix your nice cars."

"Stop it. That's not what I want."

"Then what do you want?"

"I don't have a clue! I don't know! I change my mind every day."

I slowed in front of the Rockmore House and then accelerated. At the next street, I turned to head back out of town.

"Where are we going?" Pete asked.

"We're going to my dad's house. I want to show you something."

Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, but occasionally Pete bristled in his seat and muttered inaudibly to himself.

"What's up your butt, now?" I sighed.

"You shouldn't be driving me around. I should be driving you."

"Okay, that is sexist." I immediately pulled over into the driveway for the cemetery at the edge of town. "But if it makes you feel better you can drive."