Free The Invisibles by Hugh Sheehy

mom and me?”
    â€œOh, yeah,” he said flatly. He had known that about her biography, but he had not seen their situation parallel to it. He stood frozen in surprise, his tears sliding back, falling into his throat where he could swallow them. He felt suddenly embarrassed to be talking to her, eager for the conversation to be over. He thought of the number of people who knew about them, Rajan, others she must have told. He would have to carry on now as if it had never happened.
    â€œI just don’t want to be that woman,” she went on. “I don’t want to go after married guys because it’s safer, you know? I just don’t want to be a victim.”
    â€œI see,” he said flatly, unable to hide his disappointment. Really, he had expected more from her than such a sordid little fantasy.He wondered if he had ever been on the same date with her, or if he had always been alone at the movies, sitting with a stranger in a friendly looking disguise. She was in the middle of saying something, but he cut her off. “Look, I should go. We’re wrapping up my daughters’ party.”
    There was a violent intake of breath on the other end. “Michael, don’t be like that.”
    â€œMaybe I’ll see you later.” He touched the End button before she could say more. He turned and saw Tristan coming up the sidewalk, smiling at him. The younger man had spilled a little soup on the front of his shirt, and it had stained yellow. Aware of his swollen eyes, wondering if he looked as if he had been crying, he gulped and mustered a big smile to match the freshness of his voice. “Hey Tristan. You guys about finished up?”
    â€œYes sir. You know, Mister — ”
    â€œMy name’s Michael.”
    â€œI just wanted to say I was sorry for what I said to you during the game. It was really inappropriate, and I hope there are no hard feelings.” He held out his strong right hand, its skin still uncreased and tight. “I totally didn’t mean to disrespect your house.”
    He accepted the handshake and dropped his chin ironically to show the gesture was unnecessary, because there was no problem, never had been. “Don’t worry about it, Tristan. I wasn’t really angry at you anyway.” He reached into his pocket and brought out his wallet. Shaking his head when the caterer held up a hand, he pulled out four twenties and gave them to him. “Here’s a tip for each of you. You going out tonight?”
    Tristan was still looking at the bills, holding them tight in his hand. “Um, yeah. I’m going to the Highlands.”
    â€œHave one for me,” he said.
    Tristan squinted in happy confusion, then looked back at the van, where the other caterers were climbing in. “Definitely, man.I definitely will.” Beginning to blush under the attention he was getting, he looked back at the door they had left open and mumbled, “Well I better go. I guess we’re going now. Thank you, sir. It’s really generous.”
    â€œCall me Michael,” he said. “That’s my name.”
    But the caterer was already halfway down the sidewalk, running as though his coworkers might depart without him. When he reached the open door, he hopped into the backseat and, without looking back, pulled on the handle behind him. The door slid shut with a firm bang. The driver pulled the front end away from the curb, and a moment later the white van was racing with a faint bounce up the street.
    The block lay quiet, its trees in gentle motion. A golden dusk was descending. He looked up the sidewalk, mentally retracing his steps, passing through the gate, and reentering his lavish house. Inside, his absence would have gone unremarked. The mothers were gathering their daughters, who were begging to stay overnight. Cindy was in the kitchen handing out goody bags, and the twins were plotting to extend the party. The night lay ahead, and he could