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The name flashed across the screen and her neck pulled tight. “Hey, Pops.”
“Well, what do you say, there, princess?” Her father’s characteristically chipper voice boomed through the receiver. “Did ya have a good birthday?”
She mouthed,Five minutes, to Ben and transferred the phone to her other ear. Conversations with her father could go one of two ways: laughter or tears. Potential customers didn’t need to be scared off with tears. She stepped out the back door and angled her face towards the sun. “Yep. Ben took me for Puerto Rican food at his aunt’s place and I took myself for a manicure.”
“Quarter-century old. Who woulda thunk that? Sure does make me feel like an old man.”
Her shoulders deflated. “I turned twenty-seven. Not twenty-five.”
“I’m just pullin’ your leg. I know how old ya are.”
A long silence followed. She pictured her father scratching the scruff on his face with a smoke dangling between his teeth. Probably sitting on a busted-up recliner somewhere, flipping through basic cable TV with a bowl of generic chips on his stomach, wiping his greasy fingers across his T-shirt every few bites.
“You taking care of yourself?” Digging her knuckle into her temple, she attempted to stave off what would undoubtedly become a gnarly headache by the end of the call. “Haven’t seen you for a while.”
“Sure, sure. Ya know me, always doing this or that. Takin’ a break from work right now. I told that no-good manager to shove it last week. I ain’t putting up with him no more.”
Same words, different day. Did he ever realize that all their conversations were on repeat? A sad soundtrack of someone doing him wrong. His ex-wife, his ex-girlfriends, his ex-bosses. He never realized he was the constant in the equation, and she’d long ago given up trying to convince him otherwise. “Did you find another job?”
“Just takin’ it easy for the time but got something lined up.”
Her mouth drew into a flat line. Like on autopilot, she knew exactly where this conversation was headed.
“Say there, kid, I think I’m gonna have to stop by soon.”
I knew it.
“Ya know, just to make sure you’re stayin’ outta trouble.”
His visits were never about her well-being.
“You up for seeing your old man?”
No.“Of course, Pops. Anytime. You know where to find me.”
Her heart sunk into her stomach. She stuffed the phone back in her pocket and returned to the shop. For so many years, her father had been a flashy, shiny object that wasjust barelyout of reach. If she were more accommodating, if she were quieter, if she werebetter, that shiny present might be attainable. Even though she forgave her father years ago for his addiction, it didn’t always lessen her frustration with him.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, wishingso hardthat Rosie was here. Rosie always knew what to do. Like the time when a whispering chorus ofthat poor girlfloated around her as her dirty, stumbling, apologetic father was escorted out from her eighth-grade choir concert by her classmate’s dad. When Charlie flew into Rosie’s house that night and bawled into her musty sunflower couch pillows, her aunt tugged Charlie to her feet and told her to get in the car.
Nuthin’ that a makeover and hot chocolate can’t fix, Rosie had said, clutching her Marlboro Red between her dragon-long, neon pink fingernails, her frizzy blond perm bouncing as they drove to the salon.Just remember, Charlie-girl. The longer the nails, the bigger the hair, the closer to God. We’ll get all glammed up, and you’ll forget all about today.
Charlie never forgot. But she loved Rosie for trying.
“Back bar’s stocked,” Ben called out. “Let’s get a drink.”
She wandered to the front of the shop to water her overgrown plants, push in the plush rust-orange chairs, and ignore the knots in her belly that it was only 11:15 a.m. and they hadn’t had a customer for almost an hour.
“You glad the semester’s finally over?” She released her heavy bun from the ponytail holder and massaged her scalp.
He lined up two shot glasses for espresso. “You have no idea. I’m doing a full-on hot boy summer this year before things gets serious.”
“Unlike other summers?” She rewrapped the ponytail holder tightly around her hair. “Do you think you get so much action ’cause you’re pan and poly, or ’cause you’re so damn cute?”
“I’d like to think it is because of my charming personality and incredible abs.” He tapped the ground beans against the knock box. “I still can’t believe I graduate next semester.”
Her eyes dropped to the cup he handed her, and she ignored him tapping the side of his mug to hers. The rising aroma of warm, fresh brewed grounds didn’t make it any easier for her to choke back a sip.
The glass clanked against the counter when Ben set it down. He reached for her shoulders and lowered his face to meet her eyes. “Hey, you know I’m never gonna leave you, right?”
