Twenty-Seven

The following morning Ira knocks on the door and hears his deep voice from inside. She turns the handle, and breathes with relief when the door opens, and she enters. She is dressed for the office, and she walks briskly into the kitchen. He is sitting at the plastic table with a mug of black coffee in front of him. She smells and notices the toast bread on a plate on the table.

She pulls out a chair and sits down, and then she reaches for a toast and bites into it. She chews with her eyes closed, and when she opens her eyes, she looks at the toast with mild surprise on her face.

"What did you make the filling with, CB? This is too good!"

He takes a sip of his coffee and puts the mug down gently.

"I thought you would like it. I packed some breakfast for you. There, on the cabinet."

"It has the same toast, the same filling?" Ira asks eagerly.

He laughs gently at that.

"Fuller filling, Rammy."

She gets up and takes the pack from the cabinet. She stops by his side with her hips near his face.

"Listen, Chris. This Saturday is the GojuFist match between Mike Crankson and his former trainer and promoter, Wailer Vroom. I have three tickets. Would you want to go see the fight?"

"Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you," Chris replies gently.

"Done then. Now I need to run. See you later, CB. And thanks for the breakfast."

She moves past him. He reaches out and catches her wrist. She stops and looks down at him and moves closer.

"Thank you, Ira," he says gently. "For everything."

He lets go of her wrist. She stays there a moment longer, still looking at him. Quite suddenly she reaches out and rubs his right cheek gently, and then she turns and hurriedly leaves the kitchen. He sighs deeply, and reaches for his coffee.

Effe tries to hold down her impatience as she looks at Junior.

He is wearing sneakers, jeans and a T-shirt. He has a blue Ben 10 cap on his head.

Effe is holding his bag and his lunch pack.

"My prince, you told me you would go to Granddad's place. You promised them, and they're expecting you!" Effe says, striving to remain calm and not give in to the anger threatening to assail her.

Junior does not look at her. His shoulders are slumped, and he looks very unhappy indeed.

"I know, Mama. I'm sorry, but I just want to be with Daddy," he says in a rush.

"But Daddy does not know you want to be with him today. Maybe he has other plans. Grandma wanted to take your measurements and knit a nice pullover for you. They would be heartbroken."

Junior looks up at her then, and she sees how unhappy he looks.

"But Mama, I've been with my Grandparents for a long time. Daddy just came home. I really, really, really want to be with him, please, just for a teeny-weeny bitty time, please?"

Effe is getting impatient. She has a court case that morning, and she would also be going around with Steve to look at a house he wants to buy. She has therefore asked Steve to come and pick her up and send her to court where she will submit her briefs, and then go with him to look at the house. Steve is waiting outside. If she goes and drop Junior at his father's place Chris will see her with Steve, and somehow Effe isn't too keen on the prospect of being with Steve in Chris' presence, even if for just a pause in time.

She shakes her head. What is happening to her now? She has kept the fact that Chris has signed the divorce papers from Steve. Of course, she is going to marry Steve, and Chris knows it, so why is she now getting cold feet about Chris seeing her with Steve?

"Okay, Iron Boy, call your Daddy. If he wants to be with you, I'll take you over," she says with a big sigh.

She leaves the living-room and waits anxiously in the corridor with her fingers oddly crossed, and a moment later he comes bundling out, his air of gloom gone, his face brilliant and full of unbridled joy ...and she knows that she has lost

"Yippity yappity yoooo! Daddy is home! We're going to the beach on his motorbike!"

Effe scowls with frustration. When they go outside, they see Steve leaning against his red Buick four-runner. He hugs Effe, and brushes his lips on hers. Effe looks at him earnestly.

"Sorry, honey, but Junior wants to be with Chris. Is it okay with you if we drop him off at Ira's?"

Steve looks startled.

"Chris is staying with Ira? Since when?" he asks with a frown.

"Oh, I thought I told you. Sorry if I didn't. Yes, he's been there for about four days now. She gave him the Boys' Quarters."

"I'll be damned! Ira? Wow," Steve says with a chuckle. "Guy's a lucky man. Always being handed out freebies. Ira better watch out, though. That boy is slick."

Effe stiffens and frowns.

"Please. That's a gross thought, and a most distasteful remark. I was married to Chris, remember? Ira wouldn't ever dream of a thing like that!"

Steve laughs softly.

"Maybe she wouldn't. But Chris would. You forget he has a history? With him, until he met you, there was nothing too taboo for him. Did I ever mention to you that when we were in school, he was dating a mother and her daughter?"

Steve laughs again and opens the back door for Junior.

Effe gets into the front passenger seat, and she is quiet as they drive the short distance to Ira's place. She is remembering that hug she has seen Ira and Chris sharing at the police station. She shakes herself out of her thoughts. She tells herself she is just being silly. Neither Chris nor Ira would ever dream of doing that. At least she trusts her sister. Chris has raped Elaine, but can he ever make a pass at her sister? Certainly not!

When they arrive at Ira's place Chris is already outside, sitting astride the motorbike. He is wearing black three-quarter shorts and a red polo shirt. His feet are encased in white Air Jordan's.

Steve stops the car near Chris, and in a flash, Junior is out, running to his father and embracing him tightly. Chris lifts Junior on the bike and puts a helmet on his head.

Steve and Effe get out of the car.

"Chris. I'll come and pick him up around four o'clock. Hope it's okay with you," she says.

She notices that his smile dies as he looks at her, and that on his face is that look again, that look of sheer fury bordering on loathing. This is about the second or third time he has looked at her like that, and it is beginning to upset her. It is as if he detests and hates her. But that is crazy, she thinks. If anything, she rather should hate and detest him for all the pain and humiliation he gave her. Why then is she feeling so disconcerted? Why is his evident dislike beginning to affect her so?

"It's okay," he says.

Steve extends his hand.

"Howdy, Chris? Sorry, old boy, our first meeting was sick. Guess I jumped the gun a little. How're you, buddy?"

Chris ignores Steve's hand.

"Surviving, Steve," he responds.

Steve drops his hand, and the laughter disappears from his face as his jaw tightens perceptively.

"Huh. It's like that?" he asks coldly.

"It's like that, man," Chris replies in an even colder voice.

Steve chuckles.

"Jeez, man! You going to do this to Effe? You had your chance with her, and you fucked it up! Surely you understand that? Why –"

But right then Effe interrupts him sharply.

"Steve! Please!"

Steve glares angrily at Chris for a moment longer, and then he turns and walks angrily back to his car. Effe licks her lips uncertainly as Chris tightens the helmet on Junior's head, and then kicks the stand of the bike free. Junior waves to her.

"Bye, Mama. See you later!"

"You guys have fun," Effe says listlessly.

Chris does not speak. He turns the ignition and the engine kicks into life. Much against her will Effe abruptly places her hand on his wrist. She notices his instant cringe, and she sees the fury in the depths of his eyes. Junior is looking up at his father, and quickly he reaches up and puts a small hand on his father's arm. Chris looks at his son, and slowly the harsh lines of his face relax a bit.

"Daddy, don't hate Mommy, okay?" he says in his little-boy-lost sad voice.

His words startle them, and they look into each other's eyes.

"I didn't mean it to be like this, Chris. You're not making it easy for me. Please, don't let us pull Junior in different directions, I beg you," she says softly.

For a moment, she sees a vulnerability in his iron-clad armor. She catches a glimpse of the little boy in there fighting against the pain, and she feels a sudden uncontrollable urge to put her arms around him.

But the feeling passes quickly as he turns the motorbike around and speeds away from her.