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eleanor
Wednesday night wasn’t the worst.
Park had taekwondo, but Eleanor still had Park, the memory of him, everywhere. (Everywhere he’d touched her felt untouchable. Everywhere he’d touched her felt safe.) Richie had to work late that night, so her mom made Totino’s Party Pizzas for dinner. They must have been on sale at Food 4 Less, because the freezer was stuffed with them.
They watched Highway to Heaven while they ate. Then Eleanor sat with Maisie on the living room floor, and they tried to teach Mouse “Down Down Baby.”
It was hopeless. He could either remember the words or the clapping, but never both at once. It drove Maisie crazy. “Start again,” she kept saying.
“Come help us, Ben,” Eleanor said, “it’s easier with four.”
Down, down, baby
Down by the roller coaster
Sweet, sweet baby
I’ll never let you go
Shimmy, shimmy, cocoa puff, Shimmy …
“Oh my God, Mouse. Right hand first—right first. Okay. Start again.…”
Down, down, baby …
“Mouse!”
