forgot about those thick strong hands and his wide, square fingernails. âAnd your mother? Everyone else?â
âMom is fine. And Paige, I think you met her once, sheâs good. And you know, everyone else. Everyone is fine.â
âHow about Troy? He treating you all right?â
âTroyâs just fine.â That might be hurtful to him, I realize too late. âI mean, weâre not close or anything. Heâs justâ¦kind of there. But heâs not a problem.â
âGood. Good.â
The rest of the conversation doesnât get any less awkward. We talk about how Iâm doing in school and about his business. Then we do the talk about sports and movies. The food arrives, and I think weâre both relieved to have something to do other than work so hard to make conversation.
âWas that enough for you?â he asks when he puts his fork down on his empty plate.
âOh, yeah. Plenty. And very good.â
The waitress comes to the table to get our plates. âHow about dessert?â
Dad looks at me, the hint of a smile showing at the corner of his mouth. âYou up for it?â
This is from back when we spent time together. It should feel familiar and warm, but I still feel awkward. Maybe we just need to get back into it. âOf course.â
âJeannie, do you have two nice big wedges of the banana cream for us?â he asks.
âGood choice.â She smiles at him as she takes our plates away.
He moves his napkin to the right, then back to the left. âOkay, letâs just get to it. Why did you need to see me?â
I feel like a little kid whoâs been rude to his parent all day, then asks for a present the same night. âWell. Thereâs something I need to talk to you about, if itâs okay.â
âYou canât possibly be asking for money. I mean, if you are, Iâll do what I can, but I thought that Troy guy was loaded.â
âItâs not money.â I look around. The place is mostly full, and the tables are close together. That old wulf at the counter hasnât moved an inch since I came in. âBut the thing is, itâs kind of personal. Maybe we could go somewhere else, so we can talk in private?â
He nods and looks out the window. âWe can go around the corner to my place, if you want.â
âSure. After the pie?â
âHell, yeah, after the pie. Itâs already got our names on it.â
Of course I know his apartment, but it looks a lot darker and more run-down than I remember. Books and magazines on all the surfaces, including the floor. He still has the couch heâs had since the divorce. And it looked worn out back then. The only nice thing in the place is the big-screen TV.
âHave a seat,â he says. âJust push that crap over, or dump it on the floor.â
He goes into the kitchen. I clear a spot on the couch and sit. Iâm feeling all jangly and nervous. I donât even know how Iâm going to say it to him.
He comes back in with some glasses and plastic bottles of Coke. âI was going to get you some SynHeme, but then I figured we wouldnât end up coming here. Sorry.â
âThatâs okay. I donât need any right now anyhow.â
âTwenty bucks for a sixteen-ounce bottle. Unbelievable.â
âItâs a little cheaper when you have it delivered by the case. Thatâs what we do.â
âRight. Of course.â He puts the Cokes and glasses on the table and sits across from me in his easy chair. How am I going to do this?
âOkay,â he says. âWhatâs the big personal thing you want to talk about? Iâm figuring itâs about a girl.â
âOh, no. Itâs not that.â
âNo girlfriend?â
âKind of. Thereâs a girl I like. Iâm pretty sure she likes me.â
âVampyre girl?â
âActually, no. Sheâs human, but she goes to my