Seventh Heaven by Alice; Hoffman Page A

his mother next door, just in case she looked out her window and caught him smoking. “You live here?” Ace asked.
    Billy nodded and curled his toes.
    Ace pointed his cigarette at Billy and closed one eye thoughtfully. Smoke circled around him. “Second grade,” he guessed.
    â€œThird,” Billy Silk said.
    â€œPoor guy,” Ace said. He noticed that Billy was still in his pajamas. “Your father’s going to let you have it.”
    â€œNah.” Billy rolled a raisin over his tongue. “He’s gone.”
    â€œGone?” Ace said, surprised. “What are you? An orphan?”
    â€œNah,” Billy said. “He’s in Las Vegas.”
    â€œNo kidding,” Ace said, impressed.
    The front door opened and Nora stood there in her nightgown, holding James on her hip.
    â€œYou should be dressed,” Nora called to Billy. “Your feet will freeze. You’ll be late. Gee whillikers, buddy, let’s move it.”
    Ace McCarthy stared at the front door after Nora had closed it.
    â€œThat’s your mother?” Ace asked, and when Billy nodded, Ace shook his head. “Wow,” he said.
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?” Billy said, insulted, although he wasn’t certain why.
    â€œNothing,” Ace said, stubbing out his cigarette under his boot heel. “She just doesn’t look like somebody’s mother.”
    â€œYeah,” Billy Silk said, and in a way he knew what Ace meant.
    â€œSee ya,” Ace said. He walked down the driveway as if he had all the time in the world to get to school. Billy sat on the stoop until Ace had called for Danny Shapiro. He watched them head down Hemlock Street, and then he felt silly being outside in his pajamas, so he went in and got dressed while Nora fed the baby his breakfast.
    â€œLet’s go, let’s go,” Nora kept calling, even though she wasn’t ready herself. She appeared in the doorway of Billy’s bedroom in a black dress and black high heels as he was examining his new blue looseleaf. Around her waist she had on a black-and-gold cinch belt with a big gold buckle.
    â€œThere’s nothing to be nervous about,” Nora told Billy.
    Her face was flushed, and today her nails were passion-fruit pink.
    â€œI’m not nervous,” Billy said, although actually he thought he might faint.
    The elementary school was only three blocks away, but because they were late, Nora drove. The Volkswagen hadn’t had time to warm up; it chugged and bucked and the engine threatened to cut out completely. Nora pulled over across from the U-shaped driveway where buses were parked. There were only a few latecomers running through the doors, but the air still smelled of peanut butter and Ivory soap and gasoline. Nora took the key out of the ignition. She looked in the rearview mirror, adjusted her gold headband, and fluffed out her bangs.
    â€œSo?” Nora said to Billy.
    â€œSo I’m not going,” Billy said.
    â€œOh, yes you are,” Nora told him.
    â€œYou don’t even look like somebody’s mother,” Billy said.
    â€œI’ll take that as a compliment,” Nora said. “So thanks a million, buddy.”
    Nora stepped out, then went around the car, opened the rear door, and picked up the baby. She waited for Billy on the curb. Sooner or later, he had to come out of the car. Another mother was leaving the school; she was wearing Bermuda shorts and a kerchief over her hair. Nora readjusted her cinch belt. She had a pair of Bermuda shorts somewhere; she used to wear them when she washed the floors in their old apartment. She scrunched down so she could see herself in the side-view mirror. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn eye makeup; maybe she shouldn’t have sprayed herself with Ambush. She tapped on the window and Billy looked over at her.
    â€œCome on,” Nora mouthed through the glass.
    Billy unlocked his door, then got out and