Chapter 14
Andrew
I promised Maya I’d pick up Kiki at nine, so here I am.
“Wow, you look like you’ve been run over by a dump truck.”
I smile tiredly at Maya. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a dump truck.”
She squints a little and tilts her head. “Have you been drinking?”
“Drinking?” I laugh. “No. I, um . . .” I hesitate. I chaperoned a band dance, for Pete’s sake, but I’m tired and sore from twirling that silly rifle in the parking lot well after the lights went out last night. I learned the double toss, then the triple, then had almost mastered the quad before we moved to the horizontal toss. It was tricky and pretty stupid in the dark, but the moonlight and the whiteness of the rifle made it doable. And there was something very intimate about being alone with Robert in the dark, his hands on mine, his body close. We didn’t talk about anything important. We just played with the rifle and laughed. God, what a beautiful sound, his laugh.
But somehow, telling Maya that I had some kind of Zen experience in a parking lot with one of my students until the wee hours of the morning would be even stupider than being in that parking lot in the first place. I could just tell her about the dance. That would be good enough to explain the tired muscles on my out-of-shape body, but I am feeling some serious warm fuzzies at the moment, and I want to share them, even if it means telling a slightly embellished version of my night. So I settle on a half-truth. “I went dancing last night.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Dancing? Like, with a guy?”
“Maybe.” I know I’m being coy, but frankly, I feel coy today.
“Really? So . . . is this guy someone special?”
“Special?” I realize I’m echoing her words and make a point to stop. “Yeah. I’d have to say he’s special. Very special, in fact. But special for me? I don’t know. We’re just friends.”
She eyes me for a moment, a knowing look, and a slow smile makes its way across her face and lights up her eyes. “You’re in love!”
Maya always did know me, better than I know myself.
“Just friends,” I insist, but I’m not so sure anymore. All we did was twirl that rifle and toss it in the air more times than I can count, but despite how tired I am, I feel more alive today than I have in years, maybe ever.
“Kiki’s still eating breakfast. Doug’s here. Want to come in and have some coffee?”
Kiki’s face lights up when she sees me. She holds out a soggy Cheerio, and I bend down so she can put it in my mouth. Then I give her a kiss on her milky lips. “How’s my best girl this morning?”
“Cheewios!”
“I know,” I say, but decline when she offers me another one.
Maya hands me a cup, then pours some coffee as I sit down. Doug is at the stove whipping up something that smells like onions. He looks comfortable there, and I can’t help thinking that he and Maya will make a nice couple, and that he’ll be a good stepdad to Kiki. Maya swats him on the butt as she returns the carafe to the coffeemaker.
He looks over his shoulder at me. “I’m making breakfast. You interested?”
“Sure. Smells good.”
“Maya tells me you applied for the administrator training program. Have you heard anything yet?”
“Not yet. I just had an interview Monday. I’m hoping to hear something this week.”
“So the kids might be calling you Principal McNelis soon?”
I laugh. “Hardly.”
Maya hands me a carton of half-and-half, a sugar bowl, and a spoon. I give her a wink.
“It’s a two-year program. I intern in the last semester. They’ll get me a sub, and I’ll get to play administrator for a number of days. Then I’ll start applying for positions. But from what I hear, though, the district tries to rough you up a bit before they’ll offer you anything. Lots of interviews, lots of rejections. You just gotta be patient and keep at it. So, I figure it’ll be at least four more years before I even make assistant principal.”
“Ouch.”
Doug’s an engineer. He’s only a few years older than I am, but he earns three times as much. That’s okay. It means security for Maya and a chance for her to stay home with Kiki if she wants to after they marry, if they marry.
“Not that bad,” I say. “I really love working with the kids. Every day’s a new challenge. Each year’s a new challenge. You never know for sure what you’re going to be teaching or what kind of kids you’re going to get. I hear it keeps you young. If the pay weren’t so bad, I might be happy to stay a teacher the rest of my life.”
Maya looks a little uneasy. She knows about my financial struggles, but she also knows I wouldn’t have it any other way. I manage. I’m happy. That should be enough for anyone.
“Drew met a guy,” Maya says.
“Oh-oh-oh,” I sputter. “Thanks for keeping my secrets.”
“You didn’t say it was a secret,” she says sweetly.
“Yeah?” Doug says. “Where’d you meet him? School?”
“He’s just a friend,” I say, evading the last question.
“They went daaancing last night,” Maya singsongs.
Doug moves the pan from the stove to the table, far enough away from Kiki so she can’t reach out and burn her little fingers. Good move, Doug.
“Could he keep up?”
“You know, I find it disturbing that you know so much about me.”
He hands me a plate and grins. “You’re a legend.”
“I doubt that.”
“Just pillow talk.”
“Might I suggest you get some new pillows or this little one here”—I muss Kiki’s hair—“is going to grow up an only child.”
Maya blushes, but Doug doesn’t skip a beat. “We do all right.”
I bet. I already know Doug spends the night when Kiki is with me. Although, I’m pretty sure he spent the night last night, too, judging from his casual dress this morning—barefoot, TAMU sweatpants and a Fruit of the Loom undershirt—but I can hardly blame them since I was the one who changed my plans at the last minute. Maya’s flexible like that; we both are. Anyway, Kiki’s only two, and if it makes Maya happy, it makes me happy.
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I’d texted Robert before I even got out of bed this morning: Can’t move. Every muscle in my body hurts. Blame you.
He must have slept in. I take out my phone and check the message.
Serves you right, old man.
I can still fail you.
Ha, ha. You know I’m kidding, Andrew! (No Mr. Mac. Did you see that? Huh?)
I saw ;)
When I look up again, Maya and Doug are exchanging an amused look.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re smiling,” Maya says. “Your new guy?” I take a piece of bacon and pretend I didn’t hear the question.
Robert
“It smells like smoke in here,” I say to Aunt Whitney as I pour a glass of milk.
She takes the carton from me, checks the level, and returns it to the refrigerator. “You sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “Pretty good.” Just not nearly long enough. The rug rats were up early.
I pull my left arm behind my head, then my right, trying to work out some of the kinks. Andrew isn’t the only one with sore muscles this morning. But every ache reminds me of last night, and I savor every twinge.
“Sorry I had to put the kids in your room,” she says as she adds milk to her shopping list. “There really wasn’t any other place. This house is pretty small.”
She means it as a mere observation, I’m pretty sure, but the implication from years of just such comments still seeps through. The former-Westfall women live in large homes, homes that befit their status as physician-gods (Aunt Whitney, neurology; Aunt Olivia, otolaryngology, a fancy word for the field of ear, nose, and throat medicine). Ours is a hovel and clearly beneath their baby brother. I shake off the bad vibes and try to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“How’s Dad this morning?”
She shakes her head. “He’s a fighter. He’s hanging on with everything he has, but . . .” She takes a deep breath and her eyes flood with tears. “He’s actively dying, Robert.”
“But you just said he’s fighting it.”
“What I mean is his systems are shutting down. It won’t be much longer. As bad as he looks, I have to believe that he’s completely oblivious, that death will be just a small hiccup between this world and Heaven.” She smiles weakly and sniffs. “You sure you don’t mind running to the store?”
“I don’t mind.”
“I’d go myself, but someone needs to stay with your dad.”
I bristle. Someone. Right. “Where’s Mom?”
“Don’t know. Apparently there are more pressing demands on her time than staying by her husband’s side.” She adds fish sticks to the list and hands it to me. “Stop by the Hallmark store next door first and see if they have any puzzles there. Someone finished the other one last night.”
At Hallmark, I pick up the most difficult puzzle they have—a twelve-hundred-piece double-sided mosaic with no defined parts or reference points. I hope they rot trying to put it together.
I hate everything about you.
Wow. I didn’t think my dancing was THAT bad.
Do you have Kiki already?
I open one of the coolers in the freezer section at H-E-B and pull out three bags of fish sticks and toss them into the cart with the milk, bread, and other items I’ve already accumulated.
I do.
What are you guys doing today?
Well, right now we’re buying ice cream.
Baskin-Robbins or Cold Stone Creamery?
H-E-B.
I push my cart to the end of the frozen dinners aisle and make my way to ice cream.
He’s holding his daughter in one arm and the cooler door open with his hip. With his free hand he’s restacking cartons of ice cream.
It’s a little cool out for shorts, don’t you think? But, um, nice legs.
Very nice, I think. A light covering of brown hair that matches the hair that peeks out from the collars of his shirts. I watch as he juggles Kiki, his phone, and the ice cream. He’s wearing khaki shorts and flip-flops with an OU hoodie. If I didn’t know better, I’d have pegged him for a college student.
His face screws up a little as he reads my text. He one-handed thumbs in a response.
??? Are you some kind of clairvoyant?
He smiles at Kiki as he drops two pints of ice cream into the basket at his feet, and I hear him say to her as I approach, “Hey, kiddo, somebody thinks I have nice legs. What do you think?”
“I think she’d have to agree if that weren’t just a little creepy,” I say, positioning my cart next to his basket.
His head snaps to me. His smile turns a little sheepish, and his ears redden just a shade. And suddenly I forget all about puzzles and being a guest in my own house.
Kiki twists in his arms to get a look at me, and Andrew has to heft her to maintain his grip. The little girl that I know from the photos is holding a spotted stuffed dog in a summer dress. Little white sandals are strapped to its stubby paws.
Andrew places his cheek next to hers and speaks in a low, conspiratorial voice. “This is Daddy’s friend Robert. He’s sneaky, but don’t hold that against him. He can Dougie like nobody’s business.”
Kiki giggles and buries her face in her father’s neck.
“I like your doggie,” I say. “What’s his name?”
“You want to tell Robert your dog’s name?”
Apparently she doesn’t. So I guess: “Let me see . . . Ralph?” No response. “George? Bruno?” Andrew winces and tugs at the little dress as if to remind me that the dog is a girl. “Daisy?”
Kiki whips around and fixes me with gray eyes that remind me so much of Andrew’s. She looks a little perturbed, insulted perhaps, when she says, “Spot!”
“Oooh, Spot. That’s a great name. The dress. Of course. Silly me. I should have known.” I give Andrew a look that says, Thanks, pal.
He winks, then scans the contents of my cart.
“So what are you doing here, my friend? I didn’t know you had such a developed palette. That’s a heck of a lot of fish sticks. I imagine if you took them all apart you might be able to reconstruct an entire guppy.”
I turn my shopping list to him. “We’ve got kind of a crowd in our house right now.”
His smile fades and he studies me for a moment. “Your dad . . .”
“No. Not yet. Won’t be long though. They don’t want to leave him, so I’m the designated shopper today.”
“Can I do anything?”
You can take me home with you. Make me feel like I belong somewhere. “No, but thanks.” I take a look at his basket on the floor. “Who gets the Cake and Ice Cream flavor?”
“Me!” Kiki cries out.
“And the Moo-llennium Crunch is for Dad, right, kiddo?”
She pokes him in the nose. I want to just look at them, to fix in my mind this sweet moment so I can take it out later and reflect on what it means to be adored. And then an idea occurs to me.
“Hey, let me take your photo,” I say, holding up my phone that I realize is still clutched in my hand.
“Aaah, we like our picture taken, don’t we, Kiki?”
I snap the photo and capture them, father and daughter, cheek to cheek, smile to smile. I show it to him. Kiki pokes her finger at the screen. “Daddy.”
“Hey, let me take one for you with your phone,” I suggest.
“Yeah? All right.” He hands it over, and I snap a second photo, then return the phone to him. He looks at the photo, then shows it to Kiki. She takes the phone from him and shows it to Spot. While she does, he locks eyes with me, and I feel like we exchange some silent communication. To me, it goes something like this: There’s something going on here between us, and we both know it. I wonder what words come to him.
“Well,” he says with a quiet smile, “I guess we need to get going, right, Kiki?” He nods to my list. “It looks like you still have some shopping to do, and our ice cream is melting.”
He grabs the handles of the plastic basket and hoists it up. Besides the two pints of ice cream and some wafer cones, there’s a bottle of red wine. I’m acutely aware that even if I wanted to, even if he asked, I’m not legally old enough to have a glass with him. That reality takes a little of the buzz out of our meeting.
I shuffle my feet a bit. I want to say, “Don’t go. Not yet.” What I say is, “Have a good weekend.”
“You too.”
I’m turning to go when he says, “Hey, Robert.”
I look up and he snaps my picture. His phone is gripped in the hand that’s holding Kiki, so I doubt he even got a good shot of me.
“If you wanted a photo of me, you could’ve just downloaded one from my fan page.”
He laughs. “Actually, I think this might be my ticket into your fan club.”
“Right.” I turn to go again, but he stops me once more.
“Oh, hey. Do you like burritos?”
“Burritos?”
“Yeah. You know, tortillas with beans or beef—”
“Um, yeah, I got that. Is this some kind of trick question?”
“Nope. Just a question.”
“No right or wrong answer? You’re not going to ding a quiz grade or anything?”
“No dings.”
“Then, no, not really.”
He seems pleased with my answer. I walk off wondering what all that was about. I feel my phone riding against my thigh in my pocket, and I feel like I’m taking a little piece of him with me. At the pizza case, I grab four Red Barons, then circle back around to the ice cream and grab a half gallon of Moo-llennium Crunch.