just how to make a cup of coffee, too, my God, that
woman was a wizard." He drifted into memories, no longer
seeing me.
I wasn't impressed with his recolection. She was pretty
and made good coffee. Nice. What about she was smart,
kind, generous, funny? That she made a wicked meat loaf
and could stretch a budget so thin you could see through it,
but stil come up with the cash for a new pair of sneakers
or a birthday cake.
"My first wife didn't realy understand me."
I groaned. "Oh, Jesus, Dad. God."
I got out of the car and slammed the door. I didn't want to
listen to his crock-of-shit explanations for why he'd fucked
his secretary, knocked her up and left her to raise their kid
alone. I didn't want to hear his reasons for being unfaithful.
Maybe if he'd married my mother, if the story had become
a fairy tale with a happily-ever-after, with me, their pretty
princess, in a white dress and white patent-leather shoes
princess, in a white dress and white patent-leather shoes
with a pony and a clown at her birthday party, I might
have cared. I might have listened. But as it was, I turned
my back and tried to leave him behind.
My dad got of the car, too. "Paige!"
There had been few occasions when my dad had to raise
his voice tone. I'd always been so terrified he'd stop loving
me, I'd never misbehaved. My feet stiled automaticaly,
but I didn't turn.
He caught up to me and reached for my arm, but didn't
grab it when I glared. "Paige. Wait a minute."
"Dad, realy. I have to get inside. I promised Mom I'd stop
by and I have to get home to take care of Arty."
He looked blank.
"Arty. My brother." I didn't add the "half." "He's in an afterschool-care program, but I have to get back in time to
pick him up."
He looked up again at the building, then back at me. "I
don't think I'd better go in there. But wil you tel her I
asked about her?"
asked about her?"
"Of course." I paused, then decided not to hold back.
"You know, Dad, she's been laid off from the factory for
the past couple months. I don't know what her insurance is
like, but I'm sure she could use some money."
"Did she tel you to ask me that?"
I'd been annoyed before, but now his quick suspicion
pissed me off. "No. She wouldn't. But you have it, and she
needs it."
My dad shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and
looked at the ground. "How much does she need?"
"How much can you spare for someone you say you
loved?" I shot back, not caring if I made him mad.
He looked up at me. "You realy don't know the story,
Paige."
"I don't have to know it, Dad."
We faced each other over cracked concrete and neither of
us moved. My father sighed and stretched his neck back
and forth, then tossed up his hands. "If I give you a check,
and forth, then tossed up his hands. "If I give you a check,
wil you give it to her?"
"Yes, sure. Of course I wil."
He eyed me, then leaned back into the car and fumbled
around before puling out a checkbook. He scribbled
hastily and tore it off, then pressed it into my hand as
though he was afraid he might change his mind and take it
back. I didn't look at it, just tucked it in half inside my
palm. My dad could be generous, but I didn't want to
know, just then, if he'd made me proud or disappointed
me.
"And tel her…tel her I was asking about her. Okay?"
"Yes, Dad."
"How about you? You need anything?" He held up the
checkbook, but I waved it away.
"No. I'm fine. I'm going to be getting a new job."
He looked impressed. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm going to be in a new marketing program."
"Wil they give you a raise?" He didn't wait for an answer.
"It's about time they recognized your potential at that
place. Gave you a step-up."
"Nobody's giving me a step-up. I interviewed, I'm
qualified. It's not a favor, Dad."
"Of course it isn't." He tucked the checkbook into his
jacket pocket. "I didn't mean that it was."
I straightened my shoulders. "I'd better get inside."
My dad held open his arms as if he expected a hug. I gave
him one, stiff armed as it was, and he kissed my cheek. He
squeezed my shoulder.
"I'm proud of you, Paige. You should know that."
I shrugged and smiled and left before he could get
sentimental. When I gave my mom the check, she stared at
it for a long time before she unfolded it. She blinked
rapidly when she saw whatever he'd written, then folded it
tight again and handed it to me.
"Would you put that in my purse in the drawer, there, hon?
I'l have to get you to run it to the bank for me later." Her
I'l have to get you to run it to the bank for me later." Her
voice stil sounded hoarse but her color was better, and
she was sitting up. She'd brushed her hair and held it back
from her face with a pretty headband.
"Aren't you surprised at al?" I put the check inside her
walet and closed the drawer.
"At what? That you were able to shame your dad into
helping me out? Or at how much he gave?"
"Both?" I didn't ask her how she'd known I'd been the one
to force his hand.
My mom smiled and patted the side of the bed. "Come
here, Paige."
I did.
"I never told you why your dad and me never made it."
I sighed. "Mom, I realy don't care. I know al the experts
would say it traumatized me for life."
"Hush," she ordered, and I fel silent. "Me and your dad, when we met…wel, it was realy good. Right off the bat. I
knew he wasn't happy at home, and not because he told
knew he wasn't happy at home, and not because he told
me. I'd had plenty of guys tel me al about how their wives
didn't understand them, or how their marriages had been
over for a long time before I came along. I knew what I
was looking at. It wasn't your dad who came after me,
Paige. I went after him."
"Mom. I realy don't want to know."
"Wel, I want to tel you," she said. "So shut up and let me do it, or I swear I'l come back and haunt you if I die."
"Stop. You're not going to die for a long, long time." I told her and squeezed her hand.
"So I fel for this guy so hard it was like someone had
snuck up behind me and shoved me down a flight of stairs.
I just thought he was the handsomest, most special,
smartest…sexiest…"
I grimaced. "Okay, I get it. You were into my dad."
"Oh, no. Not your dad," my mother said. "Denny. Me and your dad used to go out after work sometimes for drinks.
He needed to get away from home, for whatever reason, I
guess it was because he wife was a ful-on bitch, but
guess it was because he wife was a ful-on bitch, but
whatever. Me and him and Dennis used to go out after
work and just hang out."
"Denny?" I shook my head, thinking of my dad's longtime
buddy. "But…you and dad…and…wait a minute.
Denny?"
"Oh, sure. Denny." She gave a happy sigh. "He was so
handsome. I was crazy about Denny."
"But what happened?"
"Wel," my mother said, "as it happened, Denny wasn't as crazy about me. I caught him stepping out on me with
some whore he picked up at the Downtown Lounge on
dolar draft nights. What with one thing and then another,
with your dad not happy at home and me brokenhearted
about Denny, we sort of just turned to one another."
I got up from the bed and paced the narrow corridor
between it and the wal. My world had done its share of
flips over the past couple days, but this had stood me on
end. I finaly sat in the chair and linked my hands together.
My mother had been watching me patiently. "You al
right?"
right?"
"I'm fine."
Her laugh trailed off into a cough, and I gave her a drink.
"Paige, I'm sorry. I know you had some idea in your head
about me and your dad, but it's time you knew."
"He said he loved you!" I blurted.
"Wel, I was pretty damn good," my mom said. "Don't men always think they love a realy good lay?"
"Oh, Mom." I shook my head. "Was that al it was? A
mistake?"
"No. It was the best mistake I ever made," my mother said
with a smile. "Because I ended up with you."
Chapter 36
It was sily to be shy around Austin, but I was. He'd seen
every part of me, the best and worst, and that should've
made me more comfortable with him than anyone else.
That was the way it had been when we were together, but
now…now things had changed and I was stil not sure
what that meant for either one of us.
He wasn't pushing, for once. He caled to ask me about
my mom and to see if I wanted to meet him for dinner. He
didn't say it was a date, but that's what it felt like it had to
be on a Saturday night. I told him I was busy, that I was
tired, I told him a bunch of excuses and he listened to each
one with a soft "mmm-hmm" but no protest.
"Tomorrow, then," Austin said.
"I have plans tomorrow," I told him, and he was silent.
"But…Austin, I'l cal you."
"Okay, Paige. You do that."
He hung up, and I wondered if I'd lost him. I dialed him
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