and about one hundred fifteen pounds soaking wet. She has long blonde tresses that curl a little toward the ends, and her face is heart-shaped, with large amber eyes, an upturned nose, and a mouth that makes me think filthy thoughts.
The last thought makes me feel disgruntled. She’s dressed pretty conservatively, in a red skirt that goes below the knee, a navy top that covers everything up to the neck, and a yellow cardigan.
“Hey!” Larkin greets me, grabbing a big, heavy-looking file box and hefting it to her hip. “Hi, Sarah.”
Sarah makes an excited sound, bouncing up and down in my arms. She waves to Larkin. “Burger!”
Larkin laughs. “You seem to be in a good mood, Miss Sarah.”
Sarah responds with a string of nonsense words.
“She’s chatty today, I guess,” I say, turning toward the car.
“It’s normal for kids her age, I think,” Larkin says, following us.
“Are you a teacher, then?” I ask, looking at her clothes again.
“A librarian,” she answers. “But we get plenty of kids that are your age, don’t we Sarah?”
Sarah grins and claps her hands together. She loves the fact that somebody says her name all the time, I guess.
“Later,” I say, picking up speed. “Gotta run.”
I leave Larkin behind, and force myself to think about the upcoming surprise visit to my father. I’d rather think about Dad than to deal with any attraction I might feel to my hot landlady.
Dad’s house and his hardware store are only a block apart. I drive to the store, and it looks the same as ever. It’s a squat little building with a short gray roof. It has always looked a bit like an old Yorkie dog with overgrown bangs, at least to me.
The sign in the door says it’s not open, so I pull around the block and park out in front of the worn green siding and rusted wrought iron of Dad’s split-level home. I take a breath as I eye the too-long lawn and the peeling vinyl numbers on the mailbox.
Yep. This place hasn’t changed a bit either. The front door opens, and my stepmom comes out with a broom, sweeping the front porch off. The lawn might be my dad’s purview, but apparently the porch falls under hers. Rosa has aged a little in ten years, but she still moves well, with plenty of the Guatemalan beauty that bewitched my dad.
Sarah lets out a random, high pitched scream, writhing to be released from her car seat. I see Rosa look up at my car, puzzled. I look back at Sarah, trying to pacify her.
“Sarah, hey!” I say in the brightest tone I can manage. “Here’s your toy…”
She quiets, squeaking the ball I just handed her. “Ball.”
I turn back to my window, only to find Rosa about to tap on the glass. Sighing, I roll the window down. “Hey, Rosa.”
“Charlie, you get out of that car right now,” she says in her heavily accented English. “Let me see you.”
“Uhhh….” I glance back at Sarah, who is happily squeaking her toy. “Alright.”
I open the door and get out, towering over Rosa. She puts her hands on her hips for a second and purses her lips. Then she breaks into a grin, hugging me.
For a second, I don’t know how to react. I tense up. It’s been a long time since anyone other than my daughter was physically affectionate with me. Then I force myself to relax, hugging her halfheartedly.
“You look thin,” she tsks. “Are you eating?”
“We eat fine.” I disengage from her embrace.
Rosa peers around me at Sarah. “Who is this? This is your daughter?”
Sarah grins cheekily at Rosa, waving her ball.
“This is Sarah,” I say, almost a little embarrassed that this is how Sarah meets her grandparents. Sarah is suddenly frustrated by the restraints on her body, wanting out of the car seat.
Rosa clucks her tongue. “Well, don’t stand there like that, get her out of the seat!”
I open the door and disentangle Sarah from the car seat, holding her and closing the door. Rosa looks at her, getting misty eyed.
“This is my first grandchild, you know?” she says. “You should have brought her around before now.”
She holds out her arms to Sarah, but Sarah isn’t interested in going to her. Sarah turns her head away and lays her head on my shoulder, making fists in my hoodie.
“Sorry,” I shrug. “It takes her a minute to get used to most people.”
Except the landlady, I think.
“No problem,” Rosa says, patting Sarah’s back. “Come on, come inside. Dale and will be glad to see you.” She starts across the yard, expecting that I will follow. “ is twenty-four now, you know. He’s big and strong, just like his father and brother.”
Half-brother, I think. I like you, Rosa, but you stole my dad from my mom. I haven’t forgotten that. Just like I haven’t forgotten that Mom died while I was overseas, with no one to check in on her.
But I keep my thoughts to myself. Besides, the whole situation with my mom is too messy to even begin to unravel. Those are threads I’d rather sweep under the rug than pull at, just now.
Rosa opens the front door and steps aside, ushering me in. The living room hasn’t changed one bit since the last time I was here. There are the same sagging gray recliners and the same sad brown suede couch, all clustered around an ancient TV set. The same family photos, arranged on the wall in a cluster, like a shrine to my brother.
The big surprise is that my dad isn’t sitting in his recliner, with all his empty Budweiser cans piled high. Then again, it is the morning. Maybe I just need to give him time.
“Dale! Jax!” Rosa calls. “Come and see who I found outside!”
We go through to what used to be the dining room… except it’s not a dining room anymore. It’s…
A little yoga studio.
I gape as I take in my father and brother sitting cross legged on matching green yoga mats. The whole room used to be covered in the most hideous organic shag carpeting, but that’s been replaced with new Pergo flooring.
“Charlie!” my dad says, surprised. He stands up. “What are you doing here?”
It’s easy to see just where and I get our height and looks; looking at my dad is like looking at a funhouse mirror. He has dark hair and green eyes, though his hair is shot through with gray. Now that I look at him, he’s actually thinner than I am.
And Jax is his clone, our clone, albeit with a slightly duskier complexion.
“I just came to visit,”
