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Chapter Thirteen
XAN
I take the first sliceof pizza and inhale it, the grease burning my lips, so I wash it down with Iced Tea. I’m starving after the practice, and so was the team. The sound of laughing, shrieking, and giggling dies out the second Patty brought us the two large pizzas that ranged in topping from Hawaiian, to meat lovers, to deluxe, to chicken barbecue.
“Patty, you’re an angel,” I say through a mouthful and she swats me with the dishtowel she always carried around with her. Patty’s one of those women that felt like a mom, not just to her own, but to the entire town. She’s always ready to pull one of us in for a tight hug against her soft figure or stare us down with a thick brow and the wrinkles around her brown eyes carry all her disappointment to the surface on each wave of skin. Her salt and pepper hair is always back from her round face and held in place with a brightly colored scrunchy.
So many memories of my life surrounded this run-down old diner. The first time I held a girl’s hand was in the far booth. The cracking vinyl of the overstuffed seat scratched along my skin as I tiptoed my fingers along it to find hers resting limply at her side. We sat like an old couple holding hands refusing to look each other in the eye. That was Sandy Warner in third grade.
My first proper fight was outside the door with Drake Moore because he called my mother a Jesus breeder when she was pregnant with Tabitha. Patty’s husband pulled our scrawny bodies apart and called Drake’s mother. Patty took me to the back, and I sat on a stool in the kitchen while she patched me up. She knew not to call my father. That he would be embarrassed by my behavior and when we got home, I’d get it worse than Drake had given it to me.
“Patty the Pizza Angel!” the team shouts and lifted their slices in honor. Patty waved us off like she was embarrassed by the praise and scuttled back to the kitchen. Millie’s perched on the edge of her black and silver chair, her dark eyes scanning the table and the diner. She’s an observer, an absorber of her environments. She takes in everything so deeply it inspires me. So many things around this town, in the world even, seem so mundane and unimportant. Millie takes it all in with childlike wonder and I’m curious if she’s always been like this.
The thought guts me and a pain I never knew possible grows from the wound. The Millie in front of me with her long braid and lopsided baseball cap and gap-toothed grin is the earliest Millie I’ll ever know. I have no idea what her first words were, when she walked, if she was a climber, her first day of school, the first time she picked up a glove...none of it. All the things I remembered as clear as day with my sisters.
Millie’s gaze finally lands on me, but I don’t hide the fact that I’m staring at her. This perfect human I had a part in creating. Her freckled cheeks turn pink and her eyes cast down, but her smile grows wider, showing more of the teeth she has yet to grow into. I remind myself that she has a lot more growing to do. A lot more firsts that I can support her through.
“I’m really glad we got to hang out today,” I say folding my arms on the table and the tips of her ears turned red. She tugs on her braid.
“It was so much fun. I’m so excited for the game. I’ve never played in a real game before. I’m really glad you’re going to be with me. In case I freak out.” She has a slight lisp due to the space in her teeth and the relief in her voice when she says she knew I’d be there for her is the last running step I need before I swan dive off the cliff into my devotion to her.
The most intense feeling of love I’ll ever experienced comes over me without warning, but I contain it. I bottle it up and tuck it away because first of all I don’t want to terrify the poor girl. The whole situation is complicated and overwhelming for a grown man, I need to be careful what I put on her. Second of all because the second I leapt off that edge it rattles loose all the fears that hid in the shadows. All the reasons for me to be afraid toss around inside me and I need to figure out how to separate and categorize everything to fit into my new life. A life as a father.
“I’ll always be here for you, Millie. You’re stuck with me now, kiddo,” I say, nudging her with my shoulder.
The door jingles and I notice the young woman because I’ve never seen her before. Anything unfamiliar is easily recognized in a place like Raston. She has long black hair, deep brown skin with full lips pursed together and thick black eyebrows perfectly arched in concentration. She presses her phone to her ear and holds a manicured finger up to Patty but it’s a gesture that doesn’t feel rude even though it should.
My phone buzzes against the old yellow table and I flip it over. Unknown number. I silence the call and grab another slice of pizza. My phone buzzes again and this time Jet grabs it.
“Dude, just deal with it okay.” He glares at me for a moment but turns away before I can say that I am dealing with it. In my own way. Sort of.
The phone rings again, but this time someone else stands over my shoulder. The woman with the brown skin and narrow but unassuming eyes. She holds her phone out and taps the call button, gently tucking the phone beneath her shiny hair. Half a second later my phone buzzes again.
Ah, fuck.
This time I answer, putting the device to my ear. “Hello?” I say quietly and the woman standing next to me smiles wide, her crooked teeth making her appear kind, her energy exuding pride and kindness which is a strange mix.
“Mr. Ryker,” she says with a thick East Indian accent still making a show of the fact that she busted me screening her calls. “I’m so glad I’ve finally reached you. You are a very hard man to track down.”
I realize everyone at the table is watching me and I end the call and turn to face my fate. She’s already put her phone away and extends a hand to me.
“I’m Shunta Bakshi. Can we step outside a moment to talk?” She scans the table of young kids whose eyes were all wide and staring, everyone except Millie who glanced at the woman then me then went back to her pizza. It reminds me that this is a small town, that these kids are not exposed to difference cultures and different languages. Except Millie.
Millie’s spent her whole life traveling Canada, the US, and Mexico with her mother and in that moment she’s the worldliest person in this room. I smile respectfully and wipe my hands on a napkin before standing and shaking Shunta’s hand.
“Absolutely, Miss Bakshi,” I say and gesture for her to lead the way.
The sun hits me hard and I squint as Shunta takes sunglasses from her purse and slips them on. She feels way too sophisticated to be in Raston with her fitted skirt, flowing blouse, and aire of big city superiority.
“What can I help you with?” I tuck my hands in my pockets and lean against the painted brick wall. Shunta purses her lips at me with disappointment but her energy remains calm, accepting, nonjudgmental. It twists me all up inside not knowing what to expect from her.
“You’ve been dodging us long enough, Mr Ryker.”
“Xan is fine.” I correct her and she tilts her head like she’s irritated with my interruption.
“The powers that be have asked me to come in to replace Miss Lore. They feel like you might respond better to a...firmer approach.”
I laugh, letting it drown out my discomfort. “A firmer approach, hey?”
