The Boy by Betty Jane Hegerat Read Free Book Online Page A

Hallowe’en.
    â€œAll right then. The gravy’s bubbling, and the potatoes and the turkey will be fine for another fifteen minutes in the oven. Do you want me to do the salad?” Behind her, Jake puts his hands on her shoulders. “Serenade us and we’ll do your bidding.”
    Louise twirls round on the piano stool and lifts her face for a kiss. Even though Danny has his back to them, eyes glued to the television, Jake still glances his son’s way before he brushes Louise’s lips. “Too rusty to do any serenading,” she says. “Why don’t you pour wine for you and Dad, and I’ll get out the serving bowls and set the table.”
    â€œGet Danny to do the table,” he says. “He knows how.”
    Dan surprises Louise by coming willingly to do the job when Jake asks. With a great flourish, he spreads the linen cloth on the dining room table and clumps down the rose-patterned china. Louise keeps her back to him, bites her tongue to keep from telling him to be careful, be careful, be careful, as the silverware clatters against the rims of the old plates. She busies herself spooning cranberry sauce into the rose-coloured glass bowl that to her knowledge has never been used for any other purpose, trying not to glance across the kitchen, through the archway that leads to the dining room. The kitchen is muggy with steaming food. She swallows hard, her stomach churning suddenly instead of hungry for the feast. When she finally turns around, Danny is standing with arms folded, everything in its proper place.
    â€œSee,” he says. “I’m not as stupid as you think.”
    He had a haircut last week, and his face looks exposed, vulnerable without the thick swath across his forehead. He stares at her, rare eye contact, and she shakes her head, walks across the room to him, but touches the tablecloth with her fingertips rather than touching him. She and Daniel have not exchanged a single physical touch. They walk carefully around one another, never even brushing sleeves. One night she sat down beside him on the sofa while he was watching television, and he picked up a pillow and stood it on end between them.
    â€œDanny, no. I don’t think you’re stupid. Not at all.”
    The kitchen door opens then, and Jake and her dad come into the room. “Lovely!” Jake said. “Looks like a celebration. Does the bird need to sit a while before I carve, or can we get right to it?”
    Danny flops down onto one of the dining room chairs and puts his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands. “Let’s just eat. I’m hungry.”
    On Boxing Day Jake and Daniel are up early to check out the big sale at Future Shop. Not a chance, Louise says, when Jake asks if she wants to come along. Push through crowds for more things she doesn’t need or want? She tries not to sound self-righteous or critical. She adds the extra excuse that she’s a bit queasy this morning. Too much turkey.
    She’s relieved when they’re out the door and she has the house to herself. She feels like a visitor here. She’s put most of her furniture into storage, not wanting to crowd this space, waiting for Jake to let go of the idea of small town life so that she can convince him that the best plan is to buy another house in the city, one that they will all choose, where they can start fresh. A house without Brenda’s curtains, Brenda’s cushions, Brenda’s books and records, Brenda’s sewing machine. These are the things that should be stored.
    An hour later, Jake and Daniel are back, empty-handed, Jake white-faced, Daniel rushing past her to his room. While he was looking at the VCRs, thinking they could use a new one, Jake tells her, Danny went off on his own. He told Jake he’d meet him at the car, because he wanted to go to Sport Chek as well. No more than ten minutes later, a security guard tapped Jake on the shoulder. His son had just