Read Online MARY AND O'NEIL by Justin Cronin - Free Book Online Page B

to see.
    “A gift,” she says.
     
    The evening’s guest list expands: A phone call to O’Neil’s room to tell them they’re on their way, and now his roommate, Stephen, will be joining them, and his new girlfriend, Eliza—the girl from across the hall, with the black hair and silk robe and morning cigarette.
    “None of their folks came up for the weekend,” he explains to Miriam. “They’re like little orphans.”
    In the background Miriam can hear laughter, and then Stephen’s clear voice, reciting a line from
Oliver Twist:
“Please, sir, I want some more.” In his hammy cockney accent the words come out as “Ple-
suh,
I want sum-
moa
.”
    “They’re a sad sight,” O’Neil says. “Besides,” he whispers, “I sort of already made the offer.”
    “Did Sandra win her game?”
    “That’s the spirit, Mom. Yeah, a real blowout. She scored twice, and took a good one in the shins. I’ll let her tell you all about it.”
    At O’Neil’s dormitory everybody piles into the big Peugeot, the girls in the back seat, O’Neil and Stephen stretched out like oversized children in the wagon’s cargo compartment with the jumper cables and bags of sand. The mood of the group is exuberant; Miriam wonders if the four of them have been drinking, and then wonders why she is wondering; it’s a party, it’s fine if they have. Turned in her seat, she chats with the girls about the hockey game—Eliza is on the team too—and listens to their gossip about other people she doesn’t know, their coaches and teachers and classmates. Eliza, it turns out, is also from Boston; in the dark car her teeth shine very white—the white of china—and she laughs easily, more easily than Sandra, who seems, beside her, a figure of almost mysterious calm.
    “I always knew O’Neil would have cool parents,” Eliza says.
    “You hear that, folks?” O’Neil calls from the back. “You passed.”
    Eliza lights a cigarette she has taken from her purse and opens her window to exhale a trail of smoke.
    “Hey, you’re freezing us back here!” O’Neil says. “Pee-ew!”
    Eliza turns to Sandra. “Did you hear something?” She passes the cigarette back to Stephen, who takes a drag and hands it back, over his shoulder.
    “What part of Boston are you from?” Miriam asks Eliza. Then, to Sandra, “Did you know each other before?”
    The two women look at each other, and then, puzzlingly, burst into laughter.
    “We’re cousins,” Sandra explains.
    At the restaurant Miriam waits with O’Neil and his friends in the bar, while Arthur goes to find out about their table. When the two girls leave for a minute to go to the ladies’ room, and Stephen is ordering drinks for everyone at the bar, she takes O’Neil’s elbow.
    “I wanted you to know,” she says, “I think Sandra is just great.”
    “Well, she likes you too.” He smiles and rocks back on his heels. “It’s no big deal, Ma.”
    She wants to tell him about Sandra’s present, stashed in her purse, but decides to let it be a surprise. She hasn’t even told Arthur about it. With his friends along it will probably have to wait, anyway.
    “Of course it’s a big deal. If she’s the one you like.”
    O’Neil shrugs, embarrassed. Stephen returns from the bar and hands each of them a drink: club soda for Miriam, a beer for O’Neil. The season is over.
    “I know you don’t like the haircut,” O’Neil says. “I didn’t tell you, but it was Sandra’s idea. She’s kind of nuts about short hair.”
    “And hats,” Miriam says. For the evening Sandra has traded in her wool beret for a flapper’s doeskin cap, pea-green, the front brim folded up and away from her forehead.
    O’Neil laughs and holds up a finger. “Right. Don’t forget hats.”
    By the time they get to the table, it is after eight. Sandra is due back at the college at nine-thirty, to help the other band members set up for the dance in the ballroom, so they all order their steaks and eat quickly, everyone