"So they just came to dinner to help you out," Susan said.
"Yes, and I suspect that if they thought I needed more help, one of them would have dated her. Probably Patrick."
"Why Patrick?"
"He was the youngest," I said. "My father asked me about my feelings for Jeannie. I said I liked her but not as a girlfriend."
"Waiting for the one?"
"I was," I said. "And she wasn't it."
"But you might well have been it for Jeannie," Susan said. "Girl with no stability at home, looking for someone, seeing it in you."
"I was fourteen," I said.
"And she probably hoped for the stability that your father and your uncles provided you, though I'm sure she didn't know it."
"She probably did, and I tried to help her with that. But she wasn't the one."
Susan smiled at me.
"What if I'd still been married when you met me?"
"I'd have made my bid anyway," I said.
"And if I hadn't responded?"
"I'd have waited awhile and tried again."
"You've never been a quitter," she said.
"No," I said.
We looked down as a swan boat slid under the bridge. A couple of kids in the front waved at us.
"I would have responded," Susan said.
Chapter 33
We played six-man football in my junior high school. I played in the three-man backfield. Since the man who received the snap from center could not run the ball past the line of scrimmage, I played sometimes at the tailback position to pass and sometimes at left halfback to take a handoff and run. The high school coach had already been to see me about next year to be sure I didn't go to St. Mary's. And everybody said I was pretty good. Which I was.
There was a dance in the school cafeteria after the last game, the week before Thanksgiving, and I took Jeannie. Even though she wasn't exactly my girlfriend. There was cider and doughnuts and some pumpkins and some big paper turkeys and music on the speaker system. We danced a little. I didn't really know how to dance. Neither did she. In fact, neither did anyone else in the room. Most of the boys were interested in dancing close. Most of the girls were trying not to get stepped on. Everyone bumped into each other a lot. Standing around the rim, several teachers watched us carefully to make sure fun didn't break out in some unacceptable way.
"Do you know any Mexicans?" Jeannie said to me.
"Mexicans?" I said. "You mean in Mexico?"
"No," Jeannie said. "Around here."
"Yeah, sure," I said. "Guy named Alex Rios, he's a mason, works with us on a lot of jobs."
"Us?"
"You know, I work with my father and my uncles in the summer," I said. "And a lot of weekends during school. One summer they weren't building anything, so I worked a couple months with a landscaping company run by Mr. Felice. Roberto Felice. All the workers but me were Mexican."
"So you don't hate Mexicans," Jeannie said.
"Like everybody else," I said. "Like some, don't like others."
"My father hated all Mexicans," she said.
"Your father probably hated all everything," I said.
We bumped and stumbled our way around the dance floor again.
"Why you asking me about Mexicans?" I said.
The music stopped, so we got some doughnuts and some cider and went and sat on a couple of folding chairs.
"We never had any money," Jeannie said. "We always lived in poor neighborhoods."
"Your old man never worked," I said.
"That's right," Jeannie said. "So my mom had to work. She was a cocktail waitress at the country club, and it meant she had to work nights."
"So who took care of you?"
"Mrs. Lopez," Jeannie said.
I nodded.
"She lived next door," Jeannie said. "And she had a little boy, about my age. Aurelio."
"Aurelio Lopez," I said.
"You know him?"
"I see him around school," I said.
"Mrs. Lopez's husband is a busboy at the club, and he had to work nights too, so I would stay with Mrs. Lopez every night."
"How was that?"
"She was great. She is great. She's like . . ."
Jeannie stopped and took a little breath.
"I love her," she said.
"That's nice," I said.
"She's like my other mom," Jeannie said.
"Maybe that's why you turned out so good," I said.
Jeannie nodded.
"You don't like my mom," she said.
"I didn't say that."
"But you don't," Jeannie said. "I know. Lotta people don't like her. She drinks a lot . . . and she's man crazy. I bet your father doesn't like her. Or your uncles."
I shrugged.
"She's had a hard life," Jeannie said. "But she's my mom and I love her too."
"Good," I said.
One of the teachers announced over the sound system that this was the last dance. And to be sure when we left to take all of our stuff with us. No one would be permitted back in the school. And anyone who left anything would have to reclaim it at the principal's office in the morning.
Most of the kids danced the last dance. But we didn't. Jeannie wasn't finished talking.
She said, "Aunt Octavia, that's what I call her, told me a bunch of kids beat Aurelio up."
"What for?"
"For being Mexican," she said. "Said they called him names, you know, greaser, spick."
"That's lousy," I said.
"Mr. Lopez says he finds out who did it, he's gonna kill him."
"You know Mr. Lopez?" I said.
"A little," Jeannie said. "He works all the time. Aunt Octavia says he's crazy mad. And she says a lot of Mexican kids are getting beat up like Aurelio."
"For being Mexican?" I said.
"Yes."
"Lopez seems like a nice enough kid," I said.
"He is. He's not a jock or a tough guy or anything like you. But he's sweet. He's teaching me to play chess."
"How's he feel about all this?" I said.
"He's afraid to come to school."
I nodded.
"And where do I come in?" I said. "Or are we just making conversation?"
"I told him you'd help him," Jeannie said.
Chapter 34
Jeannie and I sat with Aurelio Lopez on a bench outside a bodega in the Mexican neighborhood that everyone called Chihuahua. He was a smallish kid, slim, with longish black hair and big dark eyes. One eye was bruised and swollen half shut.
"I don't even think of myself as a Mexican," he said. "I don't wake up in the morning and think, you are Mexican, you dog. My father came up here before I was born to work in the mine. I never even been to Mexico."
I nodded.
"This stuff happen to a lot of Mexican kids or just you?" I said.
Aurelio shrugged.
"I'm small," he said. "I'm easy to pick on."
"So," I said. "How many guys are there?"
"I don't know, about ten, I guess," Aurelio said. "They pick on the girls too."
"Mexican girls?" I asked.
"Yes."
"They ever tease you?" I said to Jeannie.
"Sometimes," she said. "When I'm with Aurelio. They call me names."
"Like what?"
"Spick lover," she said. "Beaner girl."
I made a face.
"So who are these guys?" I said.
"I don't know," Aurelio said. "I don't hang with any Anglos except Jeannie."
"Well, I guess we'll probably find out," I said.
"I wish I was a tough guy," Aurelio said. "Like you, Spenser. But I'm not."
"Everybody gotta be what they are," I said.
Jeannie looked at me.
"What are you going to do?" she said.
"I can walk to and from school with you every day," I said to Aurelio. "If you want."