Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell Page A

‘This is
    pretty much our uniform.’
    Her dad’s girlfriend – fiancée
    – Donna, didn’t get off work until
    five, and after that she had to pick
    her kid up from daycare. In the
    meantime, Eleanor and her dad sat
    on the couch and watched ESPN.
    He smoked cigarette after
    cigarette, and sipped Scotch out of
    a short glass. Every once in a
    while the phone would ring, and
    he’d
    have
    a
    long,
    laughy
    conversation
    with
    somebody
    about a car or a deal or a bet.
    You’d think that every single
    person who called was his best
    friend in the whole world. Her dad
    had baby blond hair and a round,
    boyish face. When he smiled,
    which was constantly, his whole
    face lit up like a billboard. If
    Eleanor paid too much attention,
    she hated him.
    His duplex had changed since
    the last time she’d been here, and
    it was more than just the box of
    Fisher Price toys in the living
    room and the makeup in the
    bathroom.
    When they’d first started
    visiting him here – after the
    divorce, but before Richie – their
    dad’s duplex had been a bare-
    bones bachelor pad. He didn’t
    even have enough bowls for them
    all to have soup. He’d served
    Eleanor clam chowder once in a
    highball glass. And he only had
    two towels. ‘One wet,’ he’d said,
    ‘one dry.’
    Now Eleanor fixated on all the
    small luxuries strewn and tucked
    around the house. Packs of
    cigarettes, newspapers, magazines
    … Brand-name cereal and quilted
    toilet paper. His refrigerator was
    full of things you tossed into the
    cart without thinking about it just
    because they sounded good.
    Custard-style yogurt. Grapefruit
    juice.
    Little
    round
    cheeses
    individually wrapped in red wax.
    She couldn’t wait for her dad
    to leave so that she could start
    e a t i n g everything . There were
    stacks of Coca-Cola cans in the
    pantry. She was going to drink
    Coke like water all night, she
    might even wash her face with it.
    And she was going to order a
    pizza. Unless the pizza came out of
    her babysitting money. (That
    would be just like her dad. He’d
    take you to the cleaners with fine
    print.) Eleanor didn’t care if eating
    all his food pissed him off or if it
    freaked out Donna. She might
    never see either of them again
    anyway.
    Now she wished she had
    brought an overnight bag. She
    could have snuck home cans of
    Chef Boyardee and Campbell’s
    chicken noodle soup for the little
    kids. She would have felt like
    Santa Claus when she came home
    …
    She didn’t want to think about
    the little kids right now. Or
    Christmas.
    She tried to turn the station to
    MTV, but her dad frowned at her.
    He was on the phone again.
    ‘Can I listen to records?’ she
    whispered.
    He nodded.
    She had an old mix tape in her
    pocket, and she was going to dub
    over it to make a tape for Park.
    But there was a whole packet of
    empty Maxell tapes sitting on her
    dad’s stereo. Eleanor held a
    cassette up to her dad, and he
    nodded, flicking his cigarette into
    an ashtray shaped like a naked
    African woman.
    Eleanor sat down in front of
    the crates full of record albums.
    These used to be both of her
    parents’ records, not just his. Her
    mom must not have wanted any of
    them. Or maybe her dad just took
    them without asking.
    Her mom had loved this
    Bonnie Raitt album. Eleanor
    wondered if her dad ever listened
    to it.
    She felt seven years old,
    flipping through their records.
    Before she was allowed to take
    the albums out of their sleeves,
    Eleanor used to lay them out on
    the floor and stare at the artwork.
    When she was old enough, her
    dad taught her how to dust the
    records with a wood-handled
    velvet brush.
    She could remember her
    mother
    lighting
    incense
    and
    putting on her favorite records –
    Judee Sill and Judy Collins and
    Crosby, Stills and Nash – while
    she cleaned the house.
    She could remember her dad
    putting on records – Jimi Hendrix
    and Deep Purple and Jethro Tull –
    when his friends came over and
    stayed late into the night.
    Eleanor