Becca Read Free Page A

home.”
    “Bertram, this is
your home.”
    “You know what I mean. I
don’t fit in.”
    She felt her son’s
loneliness and it hurt her. He had always considered himself an outsider, on
the fringe of belonging. She felt the familiar tug of guilt knowing even her
other sons never fully accepted him. She appraised Bertram. Six-foot tall,
lean, penetrating hazel eyes, thick curly black hair and a mouth that formed a
beautiful smile—or had when he was younger. People said he was beautifully
handsome. Such a shame that he did not realize how beautifully handsome he was.
Nor did others who looked at him because his handsome features were what set
him apart. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said.
    “I wish you wouldn’t call
me that.”
    “You are my baby. My last
child. You will always be my baby.”
    “And don’t tell me you’re
sorry, Mom. You don’t have to apologize to me.”
    “You need a friend,
honey.”
    “I had friends before.”
    “They got you in trouble.
They weren’t good friends.”
    “Moving out here isn’t
going to get me friends.”
    “No, but it will keep you
away from your old friends” She paused. “You need a girlfriend.”
    “And how would I find
one?”
    “You should go out—talk
to the girls. You can’t meet girls at the gas station.” She ran her hand
through his hair and that drew a smile from him. His beautiful smile. “Go to a
dance somewhere. Make friends.”
    “It’s not easy.”
    “You don’t try.”
    Bert didn’t want the
discussion to turn into an argument. He said, “I’m going to bed, Mom.”
    He went to his room, turned on the radio
on the nightstand. KDKA was broadcasting a Pirate game from Los Angeles. He
listened to Bob Prince’s play-by-play, but he was not hearing him as his mind went
back to the conversation with the girl in the car, and heard his mother’s
words, “ You can’t meet girls at the gas station.”
    VII
    “Where have you been?”
    Becca stumbled on the
first step at the sound of the voice that stabbed at her from the dark living
room. She turned to face the blackness, knowing that in the corner, in the
recliner that faced another corner and the TV, he sat there, feet on the
ottoman, one hand curled around a pipe.
    “I asked you a question.”
Now the smell of pipe tobacco—Sir Walter Raleigh Aromatic—wafted over her.
    “I was out,” she said,
looking up the stairs at the light shining from under the closed door at the
top on the right. Mom was in bed watching The Tonight Show .
    “Of course you were out. I know that. That’s why I didn’t ask if you were out. I asked you
where you have been.”
    She said, “I went to
Barb’s and then we went to a dance at the Varsity House.”
    “Yes, that’s what Barb’s
mother said. You left the Varsity House at what time?”
    “Ten-thirty.”
    “And went straight to
Barb’s to drop her off?”
    “Yes.”
    “And came straight home?”
    “Yes. Well, I mean I
stopped for gas.”
    “No you didn’t. Mr. Kline
said you hadn’t stopped in.”
    “You talked to
him? You were checking up on me?”
    “Yes,” he said as if her
question surprised him.
    She said through a sigh,
“I didn’t stop at the Sunoco. It was too crowded. I went to that small gas
station on Allegheny River Boulevard.”
    “Which one?”
    “I don’t even know the
name of it. There’s no sign.”
    “Why did you stop there?”
    “I told you,
Kline’s was busy and besides the other station is right on the way —”
    There was the Sir Walter
Raleigh again, and the sound of the heavy body moving on the chair. “Don’t
raise your voice to me, young lady. I’m your father—”
    “I know, Dad, and I
think you regret it sometimes.”
    “Don’t say that. I’m just
concerned about what you do.”
    “Or what I might do.
That’s it, isn’t it?”
    “I have a reason to be concerned.”
    “Oh, here we go again.
Let’s not talk about that. Please.”
    “ That is why I
need to know where you’ve been. You nearly