Page 25 of Summer Romance
He takes a sip of his beer. “This isn’t that complicated, and I can google what I need to know between now and then. I can tell you right now that Pete’s trying to get his personal expenses up so that when it comes to alimony he gets a bigger piece of the pie. I know that from watching TV, not from law school.”
Of course that’s what he’s doing. “Tonight I felt like Iwas seeing it all for the first time. Like I just walked into the room and was like, wait, is this my life? How—and when—did I give up control of every single thing to this man?”
“You trusted him, you were a family. Listen, I’ll go with you on Friday. I’ll bring all my TV knowledge and back you up. He’ll need to sign something saying it’s okay for you to bring a lawyer.”
“And what’s he going to say about your fee? He’s not going to okay that. The first thing we agreed to was that we can’t afford to pay lawyers.”
“We’re going to barter services.”
And suddenly I’m in a porno. My face goes hot, and I am sure that Ethan with his gorgeous legs and shouldery shoulders is suggesting we swap sex for legal services. I’m twenty percent flattered, twenty percent intrigued, and sixty percent horrified that my life has come to this.
“You’ve got to help me clear out this house.” Oh.“I can’t sell it with all this stuff in it, and I can’t go through it all alone. It paralyzes me. And it could be fun. Extra time I can see you between all of those dates we’re going to go on.” This catches me off guard, and I smile.
“It does not paralyze me,” I say. “I can totally help you.” The thought of cleaning out this house makes me feel newly confident, because this is something I know how to do. Which is not something I can confidently say about sex.
“Okay, deal,” he says, and reaches out to shake my hand, his eyes smiling in a way that makes me think he saw me blush. His hand is cool from the beer bottle and he holds on for a second too long. “I’m going to start googling New York state divorce law, and you tell Pete you’re bringing anambulance chaser for moral support. You have my permission to tell him my name’s Scooter. In this one instance, I think my alter ego’s going to help.”
I don’t know why he seems excited about this, though showing up with a skateboarder to mediation might be fun. I look at my hands and feel overwhelmed by how much there is to do.
“I think I know what you need.”
And just like that, I’m back in the porno. “What?”
“Skateboarding.” Wrong again. “When I’m wound up or anxious, I head to the skate park. I’ll show you.”
14
He grabs two skateboards from the back of his car, and we start walking the two blocks from his house to the rec center. The sun is low, almost gone. It’s soupy humid and the crickets are cricketing in a way that reminds me of a hundred summers past, riding my bike around town until the streetlights came on. It was my favorite part of the day, the thing you could always count on.
A couple about my dad’s age is walking toward us. “Well, if it isn’t Scooter Hogan. Staying out of trouble?” the man asks with a laugh.
I feel Ethan stiffen next to me, like a full-body wince. “Hi, Mr. McDermott,” he says. “Mrs. McDermott. Do you know Ali Morris?” They don’t and we say hello.
“I hear you’re still up in Massachusetts figuring out what you want to do.”
Ethan lets out a hard laugh, the kind with pain wrapped inside. “Good news. I figured it out,” he says. “Have a good night.”
We continue on to the skate park. “I’m starting to see what you mean,” I say.
He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. We walk a half block before he starts talking again. “So the thing I want you to know about skateboarding is that it’s more than a sport.”
“Is it really a sport though?” I give him a sideways glance.
He stops, and I’m happy to see the lightness return to his face. “Of course it’s a sport. But it’s also a way to move through life. A way to approach things.”
“Wait, are you going to Mr. Miyagi me and make me wax your car?”
“Probably,” he says, and smiles. He looks at me for a second, and I swear I can see impure thoughts race through his mind. We start walking again. “It’s about finding balance and then mastering a trick that you’re sure is impossible. It’s about looking at something that can’t be done and being willing to go after it anyway. It’s about speed and perseverance but also grace and control.” He stops because the streetlights pop on. He looks up at the light and the particles of summer that it illuminates above us. “I love that so much.” Then back to me, “Ali, no joke. You’re made for skateboarding.”
“You’ve known me for one week, Scooter. You don’t know what I’m made for.”
“I’ve known you a long time,” he says. His gaze is heavy on me, full of a million things unsaid. It’s like he knows a thing that I don’t know. Like he sees something I don’t. He takes my hand and entwines our fingers. I feel it all over mybody and briefly forget where we’re going. He gives my hand a squeeze and then lets go. “Come on,” he says.
We keep walking until we get to the gate of the skate park, which is, of course, locked. Ethan picks the lock with his pocketknife like it’s something he’s been professionally trained to do and walks in and switches on the lights.
“Just to be clear, we’ve broken in and now we’re turning on the lights?” I’m going to need a map and a compass to find my way back to my comfort zone. Skateboarding, breaking and entering. The thrill of it bubbles in my chest.
“Yes. This is important.” The half-pipe is in the center of the concrete park, illuminated by tall halogen lights. Around us is complete darkness, as if we are in the center of a spotlight on an empty stage. The crickets chirp from just beyond the chain-link fence on every side, and fireflies flash in the corners of my eyes. The sweet honey smell of tuberose and lilies hangs in the air.
