Free So Much It Hurts by Monique Polak

some of the stamps inside. Mick has traveled to so many places. “So you’re Australian?”
    â€œYes, sir.” Though the inspector is younger than Mick, Mick is being extremely polite.
    â€œEver seen a kangaroo?” the inspector asks.
    â€œLots of times,” Mick says.
    The inspector opens my passport. “Where are you two heading today?”
    â€œTo Plattsburgh,” I answer. “We’re going to meet up with my fa—”
    Mick takes over. “With her father. He lives in Bangkok, but he’s in the US on business. We have this letter from him.” Mick reaches between the two seats for the letter my father has faxed. “It authorizes me to accompany Iris to Plattsburgh.”
    The inspector unfolds the letter. He looks up at me as he reads it, then nods. “How long will you be in the United States?”
    Mick eyes the clock on the dashboard. “About six hours in total. I’ll drop Iris back at her house tonight.” It’s a lie, of course. Mick obviously doesn’t want the border inspector to know I’ll be spending the night with Mick like I do every Saturday night.
    The inspector taps something into his computer, then waves us through. Mick puts his sunglasses back on and checks his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Next time,” he says without looking at me, “let me do the talking, all right?”
    If Mick notices I’m quieter than usual, he doesn’t mention it. He knows I’m nervous. I glance at the clock. We’re meeting my father at a restaurant called Friendly’s in downtown Plattsburgh.
    We can see the red and white sign almost as soon as we exit the highway. Mick reaches out to squeeze my hand. “I’ll be right beside you, Joey.”
    What do you say to a father you haven’t seen in over twelve years—and whom you can’t remember? Why didn’t I think to come up with a list of things to talk about?
    I recognize him right away. He is sitting in a booth at the front of the restaurant, watching for me.
    He knows it’s me too. He stands up (he’s taller than I expected), and for a second I worry that he is going to try and hug me, but he reaches for my hand instead.
    â€œI-ris.” He says my name slowly, like he’s been practicing it for a long time. He has a goofy, lopsided smile. The kind of smile that must make people like him. But I won’t let him win me over with that smile—not just like that. Not after what he’s done to my mom—and to me.
    â€œMick, right?” He shakes Mick’s hand. “Iris’s friend?” Is it my imagination or does he sound suspicious? “Thanks so much for giving her a ride today. Everything go okay at the border?”
    I slide into the booth, across from my father. Mick sits next to me, but he leaves enough room between us for a whole other person. I’d feel better if he was sitting closer to me.
    My father beams at me. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here, Iris. That we’re together. And I have to say—you’re lovely. Really, really lovely.”
    â€œThanks.” I feel myself smiling back, even if I don’t want to.
    â€œYou have your mother’s eyes. She had the most amazing eyes.” He leans in closer, resting his elbows on the table. “To be honest, Iris, I worried…well…that you might not even open that message I sent.” He watches my face as he speaks, as if he’s gauging how much he can say.
    â€œI almost didn’t open it.”
    He nods to let me know he understands. “I’m glad you did. So glad.” He clears his throat. “Well then, we’ve got some important decisions to make.”
    Mick looks up from his menu. I know he’s been listening to every word, watching out for me. If there are important decisions to make, Mick will want to be involved.
    But then my father grins and waves the