Fortunate Son

No, Eric replied. Not really. I like being alone.

“What’s her name?” Eric asked his father.

“I’m not your secretary, son. Ask her yourself.”

Dr. Nolan pushed the door open and threw the cordless phone onto the bed.

“Hello,” Eric said into the receiver.

“Eric?”

“Who’s this?”

“Christie. Christie Sadler.”

“Oh. Hi.”

“I’m just calling to apologize for what Drew did today. I mean, he shouldn’t have thrown that racket at you.”

“He was just mad,” Eric said. “He should have nailed me on that last shot, but the sun got in his eyes.”

“But he’s a senior. He should be more gracious. I bet you wouldn’t have thrown anything at him.”

“I don’t know,” Eric said. “I mean, I was thinking how hard it must be on him because he always does the best. But you can see that he’s doing it for his father.”

“What do you mean?”

“His father’s all big and strong and sure of himself. Drew just wants to make him proud, and so losing to me like that means that everything else doesn’t matter at all.”

“How do you know all that?”

“You can see it in the way his father talks to him and the 1 0 4

F o r t u n a t e S o n

way he’s so serious. He makes Drew nervous. I bet if his father wasn’t there, he would have beat me easy.”

“And would you care?”

“Sure. I’d have to carry him around the track on my back.”

Christie laughed. Her voice sounded like chimes to Eric.

His erection came on without him knowing it.

“Whenever we go out he’s real worried about how I look,”

Christie whispered into the phone as if it were a big secret. “I can’t ever wear loafers or jeans when we’re on a date, even if it’s only at the pier.”

“Wow. That wouldn’t bother me. You’d look good in an overcoat and brogans.”

There were a few moments of silence then. Eric realized that there was something different in the way he felt. His mind wasn’t wandering away from the conversation. His attention was fully concentrated on Christie.

“Do you want to go get something to eat?” the senior asked.

“When?”

“Now.”

“I don’t have a license. I’m only fourteen, you know.”

“I have a car.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

“You won the match,” she said, and for the first time since Branwyn lived in the house with them, Eric felt his heart stutter.

At th e Pancake House Eric asked Christie about her aspirations for college. She’d been accepted to all the schools that Drew had and was making up her mind whether to go to the same school or one that was driving distance away.

1 0 5

Wa l t e r M o s l e y

He wanted to know what she planned to study. Her strength was in science, but she loved poetry. T. S. Eliot was her favorite, “The Waste Land” in particular, but she worried that it might not be responsible to want to be a poet.

“Most kids in school never know what they want to be,”

Eric said. “I read an article once that the average college student changes majors three times, and a lot of them still take jobs in different fields from the ones they majored in.”

“You read that?”

“Yeah. In the Times. I like reading the paper in the morning . . . with my father.”

“Are you close to your father?”

Eric didn’t know what to say. He sat with Minas reading the paper every morning because his father liked the time together. The boy’s heart was thumping because of those violet eyes staring so intently at him.

“You want to take a drive with me?” Christie asked before Eric could formulate an answer about his father.

Th ey starte d k i s s i ng as soon as Christie parked at the lookout point in Topanga Canyon. Eric knew that he had never really kissed before that night. Christie told him that she loved Drew and so all they could do was kiss, but a moment later she was unzipping his pants. Eric thought of reminding her about just kissing, but instead, when he felt her cool fingers on his erection, all that came out was a deep, very masculine sigh. Christie echoed him in a higher register, and their kissing became more urgent.

She leaned back at one point and said, “Drew asked me to marry him and I said yes.”

1 0 6

F o r t u n a t e S o n

Eric nodded to show that he understood, but at the same time he thrust his pelvis forward, putting the straining erection near to her lips. She took it in her mouth and they both hummed.

When the boy came he roared out her name. She stared into his eyes, seeing both pain and gratitude. Her grip tight-ened until she worried that she might be hurting him, but she didn’t ease up or slow down.

After the tremors subsided, Christie lay down on top of Eric in the front seat.

“I’ve never met a guy like you, Eric Nolan,” she said, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Was that okay?” he asked.

“What?”

“I mean about Drew. You said we should just kiss.”

“That was like kissing,” she said. “I mean, we didn’t do it or anything.”

Eric noticed their breath misting chilly air.

“I think you should be a poet,” he said then. “I mean, people need poetry just as much as they need chemicals.”

Christie kissed him and reached down.