Free Seventh Heaven by Alice; Hoffman

the last week of baseball,” Hennessy explained. “That’s my boy. First base.”
    â€œNice boy,” Nora said. She came over and put one hand on Billy’s shoulder. “I’ll bet you kids will really hit it off,” she said hopefully.
    Billy looked up at her as if she were crazy. Stevie had already begun to torment him in school; twice he’d stolen Billy’s lunch and thrown it in the trash, he’d called Billy jerkface and fink and laughed hysterically when Billy couldn’t climb the ropes in gym.
    â€œThat guy?” Billy said, incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
    â€œKids today,” Nora said as an apology to Hennessy. She gave Billy a little jab with the toe of one of her pumps. She had no idea why this neighbor of hers looked so good to her; he was tall, but he wasn’t even handsome, he didn’t have hypnotic eyes like Elvis, he didn’t have a great smile like Roger. Roger’s smile could drive you crazy, as if he knew what was inside of you. Maybe it was Hennessy’s hands that got to her; they were wide and strong. She looked at his fingers and wondered what his touch would feel like on her shoulders, on her thigh.
    â€œLittle League,” Nora said, thoughtfully.
    The baby gave a wail and dove for Nora’s breasts, leaning his head into her shirt.
    Jesus, Hennessy thought.
    Nora quickly shifted the baby under her arm, but Hennessy had seen a flash of her skin.
    â€œBilly would love Little League,” Nora said.
    â€œMe?” Billy said.
    I have to get out of here, Hennessy told himself.
    â€œSign-ups are in May,” Hennessy said, as he backed away toward the sidewalk.
    â€œThat’s good to know,” Nora called after him. “I’d love to meet your wife sometime.”
    â€œYeah,” Hennessy agreed.
    â€œWell, I would,” Nora said to Billy when she saw the look on his face.
    Hennessy waved and kept on, across the street. Nora studied his back and bit her lip. She simply refused to think about men.
    â€œI told you people were nice here,” Nora said to Billy. She jiggled James under her arm and rolled the mower back into the garage. “This is going to be great,” she told Billy.
    Nora went inside to fix macaroni and cheese; she always had trouble with casseroles: they came out too watery—you had to eat the noodles with a spoon—and sometimes she just threw the whole thing out and served Frosted Flakes or beef jerky on white bread. Billy picked up the rake and went to work gathering the cut grass. The rake was too tall for him, and it hurt his shoulders to use it, but Billy didn’t care. A few cars passed by, and although he heard them, he didn’t bother to look up. He was practicing the blackout trick, and he was getting pretty good at it; if you didn’t know better, you would swear a pair of jeans and a blue sweatshirt were raking the grass all on their own. If he worked really hard, gathering the grass into neat piles, then heaping armfuls into the silver garbage cans, he could make their house look just like everyone else’s. So he stayed out until dark, and while the other children on the block were finishing their dinners or playing ball or getting ready for bed, Billy Silk was still raking grass, and by then he had forgotten how much his shoulders hurt.

3
    ALL SOULS
    O N J AMES’S FIRST BIRTHDAY Nora was pleased to find that he still didn’t resemble anyone. There wasn’t a trace of any family lineage when you studied his face; it was as if he’d just appeared one October day, without heritage or past, born out of labor and light rather than genes. Like all October babies, he was a good sleeper and liked the cold. He’d pull off his woolen socks and throw off his blanket at night. He’d point at the window and wail until Nora let him sleep with it open, and then he’d quiet down right away and stare at the stars that