“Look, your sister’s got good sense,” Noah said, sucking down the last of his shake noisily. “And I think that since I know best about what you were into, then I should go and talk to Kirk.”
Claire laughed and folded up the burger wrapper.
“So, what?” said Paul. “You’re going to say, ‘ Hey Kirk, your boyfriend was an asshole because he’s a recovering pornstar and no one knows that better than me because I’m one too. Take him back. Adopt two Korean kids and start a family?”
“Korean kids?” Claire began.
“Personally I prefer Black kids,” Noah shrugged. “But if you want Korean.”
“No,” Paul waved it off. “It’s just something… Kirk used to say.”
“Well, I’m gonna go talk to him.”
“No you’re not.”
“It’s really not such a bad idea,” Claire told him. “You could do worse than have a go between.”
“Well,” Noah said, standing up and wiping his fingers on his jeans. “Maybe I will talk to him and maybe I won’t, but for now it’s good to be back in the Big R, and I wanna get me a shower and a nap.”
“I gotta go to the bathroom,” Claire said, getting up. “You still wanna go to the park?” she said to Paul.
“A little bit, and then you need to get back home. I don’t want you driving in the dark.”
Claire shrugged on her way to the restroom. “It’s only twelve-thirty now.”
When Claire was gone, Noah leaned in and said, “I stayed at Guy’s house last night.”
“Really?”
“There was this hot Mexican or something there. Jorge. I hadn’t been with anyone in a while. Guy said he’d pay me nicely if he could film us.”
“You made a porn last night?”
“Apparently you made one last week.”
Paul turned red.
“Well, anyway,” Noah said, turning his ball cap around, “I was just telling you that because this morning when Guy gave me the money it was the first time I’d ever felt like a slut. I wasn’t ready for that.”
Then Noah frowned, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out some cash.
“Get something nice for Claire. I sort of don’t want this anymore. Not saying I’ll feel that way tomorrow. But… right now I do.”
“I get it,” said Paul.
“I wish life was easy,” Noah said. “I wish right and wrong were Sunday school easy. Most guys could never do what we’ve done. A lot can. I’ve seen guys. I’ve shot guys who keep on doing it and think it’s the coolest thing in the world. Or there’re the ones who are bitter and shut up… Like I was. I know that now. And then the ones who…. are drugged out of their fucking minds and hate themselves. And the truth is I think I’ve been all three. And nothing’s easy, is it? Right and wrong aren’t…”
Claire was coming out of the bathroom.
“Well,” he shrugged. “Maybe for someone like her they are.”
“They are what?” said Claire.
“Right and wrong. Easy to tell apart. You know. Good and evil, clear cut.”
Claire shrugged. “I suppose they are somewhere.”
Noah stood up and stretched, jingling his car keys and, on impulse, told Claire: “Give me a hug.”
She embraced him tightly and then Noah grinned and told her, “I’ll see you soon, I bet.”
He kissed her on the head and tweaked her cheek, heading out of the restaurant.
Claire grinned at her brother watching Noah trot across the lot and climb into his car. As Noah’s rental car turned onto Demming Street, she laughed.
“What?”
“Nothing…” Claire said still grinning. “I was just thinking the two of you probably made some hot movies together.”
For a reason he couldn’t quite understand, Noah Riley was laughing as he pulled into the driveway of 4848 Versaille Street. He had been so bored here. But, really he’d been bored with himself. And he’d never really had roots. Unless you counted Rummelsville, Indiana—which he didn’t want to be rooted to. Rossford felt right, and he didn’t know what would come next, but for now a shower and the return to friends was what mattered. He stopped at the kitchen door. He had no key. He moved around to the front, and opened it, closing the door behind him.
Just then a hand went over his face.
“Open your mouth,” he heard.
Noah did so, and felt the barrel of a gun slide in.
The hand moved away.
“Do you know who I am?” the man asked.
Noah made something like a scream and he heard the gun click.
“Knock that off,” the man warned.
“Now,” he continued, turning to face Noah who stood trembling, feeling his bladder weaken, “my name is Joe Callan, and I really need you to tell me what the fuck happened to my half a million dollars.”
“Bren-dan, give me that last box.”
“All right, Fenn.”
“You just call him Fenn?” Kenny noted as he followed Brendan with a crate. “No, Mr. Houghton or anything.
“You could call me Fenn too,” said Fenn taking the box from Brendan and stacking it in the back of the church garage
Milo came out of the rectory with his grandmother and Dan Malloy.
“That’s about it, guys,” The priest told them. “We’re all ready for the rummage sale.”
“How much do you think we’ll take in?” Barb asked.
“Enough to cover the price of the Thanks For Helping party after the rummage sale.”
“Well, let’s go,” Barb said to Fenn. Then, “Milo?”
“I’m heading back with Bren and Kenny.” He murmured, “The Lovebirds.”
“Shut up,” Brendan and Kenny both said, and then looked at each other.
“Dena’s mom is throwing some dinner,” Milo said. “She didn’t really explain. Just said it was—”
“Just because,” Brendan concluded with a shrug.
“Well, just because is good enough,” Fenn said, and Barb nodded as they headed toward her car.
“Fenn, I am so glad you all came and helped today. You know what I need now?” she said, putting her shades up.
“A stiff drink?” Fenn buckled himself in, and Barb started up the car, heading out the parking lot.
“Damn straight.”
“Well, I will fix you one when we get to the house. For once nothing should be happening there.”
“Good,” said Barb, as they turned onto Birmingham Street, “because right now I’m at a place where the littlest shock would just kill me.”
I hope you enjoyed The Houses in Rossford, and I hope you join me when, after a brief return, we return to our friends in the sequel,The People in Rossford
