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“I’m going to go see my father.”
“On the same day?” She asked, somewhat shocked.
“I let him know the other day that I planned on coming over today, to meet his wife. And so, you could get to know him better since the last visit was cut off so short.” I remembered that phone call. It has started off awkward. I had no idea how to talk to him. We were both too old to start endearments or speak like a father and son should. But he was clearly excited to see me, which was more than I had hoped for. “I heard they have two Weiner dogs.”
“Really?” Lydia’s eyes lit up.
Dog people. I smiled.
***
My father lived on the other side of town in a small house that was almost as old as the city. The houses on the street were incredibly close to each other and the street itself was one of the few bricked streets left. It was a lovely looking neighborhood that must be covered in plants and vining ivy when it wasn’t so cold.
Somehow, I felt more nervous knocking on my father’s door than my mother’s. Maybe it was because I knew how final my meeting with Hana was. But this could be the beginning of a relationship I never got to have, a relationship that was stolen from me.
The door opened wide and my father stood with a fluffy, black Weiner dog in his arms. My dad was smiling in a way I’d never seen him do before. “Taylor and Lydia, come in.”
“Hey buddy.” Lydia immediately zeroed in on the dog.
“That’s Zeke.” My dad explained. “Pepper is the one with short brown hair that’s hiding under the table. She doesn’t like guests. But Zeke loves guests and loves to escape when the door is open.” When my dad shut the door behind him, he let the dog down. Zeke immediately began circling around Lydia who was delighted.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Hayes,” Lydia said, shaking his hand.
“Call me Lincoln,” my father insisted.
“Father.” The word felt weird in my mouth. “It’s good to see you.”
He brightened up considerably. “I know you both are so busy, but I hope you can visit more.”
My throat suddenly went tight. I cleared it. “I think we would both like that.”
He took us to his living room that was smartly designed. Inside was a pretty woman with incredibly short blonde hair and a few tattoos on her arms. She looked to be around the same age as my father. He sat down next to her and immediately they took each other's hands in a way that looked natural.
“This is Carol.” He gestured to his wife. “And Carol this is Taylor, my son, and Lydia my wife.”
“I have seen you before,” Lydia remarked. “I pass you in the elevator all the time. I always think to myself that your tattoos are so cool.”
“Aw, thanks. And I’ve seen you too,” Carol had a nice voice that had a rough edge to it. I felt weird thinking about it, but my first thought was that she was nothing like Hana. “It’s always funny to see a rack of fancy clothes in the elevator on my way to work.”
“You’re a private home decorator, right?” Lydia said.
“Yes,” Carol said. Both of them started going on about their jobs and telling jokes I couldn’t quite follow about the building they both worked in.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” My father looked at us.
“A water would be nice,” Lydia asked before jumping back into the fire alarm story again.
“Anything for you, Taylor?”
“I’ll come with you,” I said, deciding at that moment.
We went back to the kitchen together, the faint chattering of our wives felt distant even though we hadn’t gone too far.
“I talked to Hana today.” I decided to speak about it plainly.
My dad’s face fell, clearly thinking about his ex-wife. I would have to ask him one day about why they split, maybe one day when things between us were better.
“I told her I never want to see her again. And one day maybe I’ll tell you why.” I couldn’t keep my voice steady.
