by Vivian Wood
I want to believe that I am bigger than that, that there is no way I would use my daughter like that… but I know I’m not. My feet are moving toward her front door before I’ve even decided.
I knock on her door, and the whole wolf pack of animals starts howling. She comes to the door, tsking at them.
“You guys,” I hear her complain.
She opens the door, and her expression goes hard. I can feel that if Sarah weren’t here, she’d have some choice words for me.
“Lake,” Sarah says, opening her arms. I’m stunned for a second. Sarah has never chose to be held by someone else while I’m around.
“Hey, Sarah,” Larkin says, her expression softening. She squeezes Sarah’s leg, careful to avoid touching me.
Fair enough. I deserve that, and much worse.
“I came to apologize,” I say.
Larkin shoots me a level look. “For what, exactly?”
“For several things. Will you come with us to the diner, and let me buy you an early dinner?” I ask, hitching Sarah in my arms. “I feel like I need to explain myself.”
“Pie!” Sarah says. “Big pie.”
Larkin bites her lip, looking from me to Sarah and back.
“Please?” I ask.
“Prey pwease,” Sarah says matter-of-factly.
She hesitates for another second, then gives in. “Okay. Let me get a jacket.”
She closes the door, and re-emerges a half minute later. “All right. Let’s go.”
“Hold?” Sarah asks Larkin, stretching out her arms again.
This time, Larkin takes her from me. “Here you go.”
We start to walk, although I am setting the pace, and I choose to move slow. I stuff my hands inside my hoodie pockets.
“I’m really sorry for how I behaved the other day,” I say sheepishly. “I mean… I shouldn’t have left like that. After I got back to the house and cooled off a little, I felt bad for leaving you there.”
Her brows rise. “Is that right?”
I drop my voice to just above a whisper, mindful of the people walking on the square. “I felt bad for the fact that I keep letting it happen. The… hooking up, I mean. I should have known better. I should have known that I’m not in the right headspace to kiss anyone.”
I see her worrying her bottom lip. She bounces Sarah on her hip, then blows out a breath.
“I forgive you, I guess,” she says with a shrug. “If I had realized—”
“No, no,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “You’re not responsible for knowing and interpreting my moods.”
She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “Can I… can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” I say.
Larkin takes a deep breath. “Do you think… do you ever think that you will maybe… be ready?”
I stop, surprised. “For intimacy?”
She nods, her cheeks turning pink. She looks away.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I think… I thought I was ready. Then all the sudden, I wasn’t. I’m a wreck,” I say, shaking my head. We start to walk again. “If you were meeting me at a better time in my life, things would be different. I hope you know that.”
Larkin is staring off in the distance, her head turned away from me. “Sure,” she murmurs.
Fuck. If I can’t look into her face, I don’t know how to gauge her reaction.
“Hey,” I say, putting my hand on her arm.
She shrinks away, looking at me like she’s a wounded animal. There are tears shimmering in her eyes. “Don’t touch me.”
“Sorry,” I say, raising my hands. “I just—”
“Let’s change the subject!” she cries, exasperated. “I’m tired of being the lovelorn one.”
Lovelorn? That in itself is a pretty heavy sentiment. She blushes again as I try to work out what to say.
Larkin picks up the pace, talking to Sarah now. “Hey, did you read any more of The Little Prince?”
Sarah shakes her head. “No.”
“You have to get your daddy to read it to you. Maybe he’ll read it to you before bedtime tonight.”
Sarah considers that. “Yeah.”
Larkin chuckles. “You don’t sound very excited about that.”
We are nearing Dot’s Diner now, close to the mint green façade. I notice a tall, thin woman approaching, her dark glasses hiding a good deal of her face and her hair all tucked up in a red scarf. I have a strange sense of deja vu, but I can’t place it. My spidey senses are tingling, the same ones I used to rely on so heavily during my time in the military.
I can’t help myself; I can’t see the woman’s eyes from this distance, but I can feel her animosity. I reach out and put my arm protectively in front of Larkin and Sarah.
“What—” Larkin starts.
“How fucking DARE you!!” the woman howls, ripping off her glasses.
Shit. With her glasses off, I recognize Helen. Now she looks pissed off, which doesn’t exactly make me want to drop my protective arm around the girls.
“Helen—” I say, hoping to forestall her. “I didn’t recognize you.”
“Bullshit,” she fires back. She looks at Larkin. “Give me my granddaughter, you whore.”
“No,” I say immediately, stepping in front of Larkin. “And watch you mouth around Sarah, Mrs. Henry.”
I swear, I can see her begin to explode. Helen flings her sunglasses on the ground and whips out her phone. She starts filming us, me and Larkin and Sarah.
“I came to comfort you both on this, my daughter’s birthday,” she yells, spittle flying. “And what do I find? Nobody is remembering Britta. Nobody cares about her. My beautiful Britta has been forgotten, and I find you here, testing out her replacement.”
What day is it? I wonder. Is it July 1st already?
At the same time, I’m furious. Furious that Helen thinks that I don’t think of Britta, that I don’t agonize over almost every holiday or special date that we had. Furious that she’s confronting me in front of my neighbor and my baby girl.
And double extra furious that Helen feels that she has a right to say anything at all. Britta and Helen weren’t close; no amount of making me miserable will change that fact.
“Helen, put the phone down,” I warn. “Larkin, why don’t you and Sarah go grab a seat inside?”
Larkin instantly turns and heads inside, which infuriates Helen even more. She lunges at Larkin. “Give me my granddaughter!”
I step between them, causing Helen to run into me at full speed. I grunt at the impact, but Helen bounces off of me and crumples to the ground. Larkin doubles her pace, quickly ducking into the diner.
I clench my fists, trying to keep my temper in check. She looks up at me, seething. “You can’t do that. You can’t keep her from me.”
“And you can’t come here whenever you feel like it, cussing and screaming,” I say through gritted teeth. “When you behave like a grandmother should, we can see about you getting to see Sarah.”
Helen gets up slowly. “You are going to regret this, Charlie.”
I let out a huff of laughter. “Okay, Helen. Whatever you say. Call me when you feel like apologizing.”
With that, I turn my back on her and head into the diner. She storms off, presumably back to her car.
I sit down in the booth opposite Sarah and Larkin, smiling grimly. But my eyes won’t stop wandering outside the big glass windows, my brow furrowed.
Because though Helen is crazy and grief-stricken, her point is still valid.
Am I forgetting Britta?
Three months ago, I would’ve said absolutely not. I glance at Larkin, who is talking to Sarah, carrying on a conversation mostly by herself.
I frown. Today, I’m not so sure.
Chapter Sixteen
Charlie
I stand in the grocery store, at the bakery counter. I stare at the wide bakery display case, indecisive. There is every kind of cake, plus artfully arranged platters of cookies and trays of cupcakes. What
is the appropriate dessert to bring to Sunday dinner?
“What do you think?” I ask Sarah, who is standing beside me. “Do you think that grandpa and Rosa would like a blackberry pie, or a chocolate cake?”
She cocks her head at me, but doesn’t answer.
“You’re exactly zero help.” I squint at the board.
A bakery employee comes over, tucking her hair up in a kerchief. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” I say, scanning the bakery case. “Do you like the black forest cake more, or… what is that?”
I point at a beautifully decorated white-frosted cake, with strawberries arranged in perfect concentric circles on top.
“That’s our vanilla bean and strawberry cake. There are tons of strawberries in the icing, and it’s delicious,” she says.
I stare at the two choices, unable to decide.
“Lake!” Sarah says, running toward the front of the grocery store on her stubby little legs.
I swear under my breath, chasing after her. I catch up to her in just a few strides, and scoop her up in my arms.
“Where are you going?” I ask. She squawks, displeased.
Larkin comes in the front door of the grocery store, not paying us any attention. Sarah must have seen her outside, somehow. I swallow at the sight of her. Larkin is fucking stunning in a mint green wrap dress and a chunky light gray cardigan.
“Lake!” Sarah shouts, getting Larkin’s attention.
Larkin looks over and sees us. She gives us that wide smile, her eyes crinkling. My stomach does a flip at her approaching figure.
“Hey!” she says, pushing her sunglasses up into her blonde hair. “What are you guys up to?”
“We’re going to my dad’s house for Sunday dinner. My dad and Rosa have asked me to bring Sarah four or five times. I guess they finally wore me down.”
“Oh, so that works on you? Good to know,” Larkin says with a wink.
“Ha ha ha,” I say. “Very funny.”
“I try.”
It occurs to me that I’m about to go to see my family and a bunch of strangers, an activity that can only be improved with Larkin’s presence.
“Hey, you know… we’re going to this thing now. You could come, if you want. Keep me company?”
She goes pink. “At your dad’s house?”
“Yeah, but there are going to be a bunch of people there that I haven’t met,” I explain. “You would be doing me a favor, for sure.”
“Uhhh…” she says, looking at her watch. “I have to go to bed early, to get up super early tomorrow… but since it’s only four, that shouldn’t be a problem, I guess.”
I grin at her. “You probably won’t regret it. Probably.”
Larkin laughs. “How very reassuring.”
“I try,” I fire back. “Now I just have to pick out a dessert to bring. What do you think, vanilla and strawberry, or black forest?”
“Black forest,” she says automatically. “Chocolate is a no-brainer.”
“Can I just keep you around to make all of my decisions for me?” I joke.
“Probably,” she says with shrug.
“Come on, come with us to the bakery,” I say with a chuckle.
We pick out a cake, and then jump in my car and head to my father’s house. When I pull up outside, I’m surprised to notice that the house has been powerwashed. Not only that, but the sagging mailbox and chipped wrought iron replaced.
When we get out of the car and I take Sarah out of her car seat. Larkin grabs the cake. We all begin to cross the yard. Rosa comes out, dressed from head to toe in bright yellow. She grins ear to ear.
“You came!” she says. “Oh, who’s your friend?”
I hold Sarah with one arm, and put my free hand on the small of Larkin’s back. “This is Larkin, our neighbor. Larkin, this is Rosa.”
Larkin steps forward, hand extended. “Hey there.”
“Hi,” Rosa says with a grin. “And what about my Sarah girl, eh?”
“Hi!” Sarah chirps, opening her arms to Rosa.
I hand her over, and Rosa looks happy as a clam. “Wonderful. Come along, there are about six guests here, and Jax and your father.”
I glance at Larkin, who looks back at me with a wink.
“Come on,” she encourages.
I take a deep breath and then follow Rosa, holding the door for Larkin. When we get in, it’s kind of shocking to see so many people in my dad’s tiny house. There are a couple of people sitting on the couch, but Rosa skirts them and leads us into the yoga room. I suck in a breath, smelling cooked onions and garlic and meat.
In the kitchen, there are half a dozen aluminum fail covered pans and sheet trays. I look to Rosa. “Smells good.”
She just winks at me.
“Charlie!” my dad says, turning and raising a can. He’s surrounded by a few people, including may younger brother Jax. I narrow my eyes at the can, but my dad shakes his head. “Just Diet Coke.”
“Ah,” I say.
Two whip-thin women in their fifties approach me, walking in place. They look exactly alike, down to their silver-blonde hair and track suits.
“Hi Charlie,” one says, her voice unexpectedly low. “I’m Margaret, and this is Mary.”
“Your father told us all about you,” the other says, cocking her head. “Also, don’t mind us, we’re preparing for our next walk-a-thon.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say uneasily. Luckily, Larkin is there to absorb the awkwardness.
“I’m Larkin!” she says. “Tell me about your walk-a-thon, if you don’t mind.”
“We’re doing ten kilometers, to raise awareness for macular degeneration,” says Margaret.
“That’s a type of vision loss,” chips in Mary.
Rosa taps me on the shoulder, and leads me over to two older hispanic gentlemen. “Juan and Carlos, this is Charlie. He’s Dale’s son.”
I shake Juan and Carlos’s hands, nodding. We all mumble hello.
“They work with your dad, at the hardware store,” Rosa explains. “Carlos also sings in the choir at our church. Right, Carlos?”
Carlos merely inclines his head. Jax comes over, dressed in Converse, low slung jeans, and a band tee shirt. “Hey, man.”
We half-heartedly embrace. When he pulls back, I notice a big bruise on his arm. I frown, but keep it to myself. Later, when we are in private, I will ask him where he got it.
Rosa takes the cake from Larkin, then calls the party to attention. “Hey, everyone! Now that we’re all here, let’s pray so we can eat.”
Jax holds his hand out to me, lowering his head respectfully. I take it, offering my free hand to Larkin. She bites her lip and darts over, taking my hand.
“Dale, would you do the honors?” Rosa says.
My dad puts his Diet Coke down and takes Mary and Margaret’s hands. “Thank you, Rosa. I’d like to take a minute to say, thank you lord, for bringing everyone here tonight. Thank you especially for bringing Charlie and little Sarah and Miss Larkin. And please lord, bring us your blessings this week, during Mary and Margaret’s walk-a-thon, and for Jax’s job interview. Please bless us and keep us, forever in your name. Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone else echoes. Jax drops my hand, but Larkin holds my hand for an extra second, looking up at me and giving it a squeeze.
I am thankful, suddenly, for her presence.
Everyone moves toward the kitchen, where Rosa is hurrying to uncover platters of grilled chicken and skewers of beef, and sides of salad and beans and pasta salad.
I go over and offer to take Sarah from Rosa, but she just shoos me off. “Go eat. She’s fine right here, huh Sarah girl?”
Sarah grins. I shrug and go to the end of the line, and Larkin joins me. “Here’s a plate.”
“Thanks,” I say. “And thanks for agreeing to come here. I owe you big time.”
“Nonsense.” She bumps me with her shoulder. “What are friends for?”
Friends. Is that what we are? We’re definitely more th
an just neighbors, at this point.
But I don’t say any of that out loud. Instead, I just smile at her. When our turn comes, I load my plate full of everything, except the pasta salad. I’ve never liked that stuff.
“Whoa,” Larkin says, eyeing my plate. “Save room for dessert, okay?”
“It won’t be a problem, trust me,” I say with a grin.
She raises her eyebrows, but I am right. I clean my plate and eat her leftover chicken breast.
“I just realized, I haven’t seen you eat before,” Larkin says as we stand and eat. “It’s pretty impressive. Also kind of worrisome.”
“Eh, I ran five miles earlier. Now I’m ready for dessert.”
“I think you’ll have to wait on that one,” she says, rolling her eyes a little.
Between dinner and dessert, I’m ambushed by Mary and Margaret. Apparently they have a great-nephew that is thinking about joining the Army, and want a vet’s opinion on whether he should do it.
I notice that Larkin is pulled aside to talk to Rosa. I have no idea what they’re saying, but Larkin keeps blushing and looking down at her feet.
“How about some of that cake?” my father says, calling to Rosa.
“Yes, yes,” she says, patting Larkin on the arm. “I will cut it.”
The men line up for a big slice, with most of the women passing on it. Rosa cuts me a perfect slice, and I dig in. It’s got got chunks of chocolate in it, with rich cake and delicious frosting.
“Is it good?” my father says, sliding up to me.
My mouth is crammed full of cake, so I just nod. “Mmmhmm.”
“What’s the deal between you and the nice blonde lady?” he says, nodding to Larkin.
I cough, choking on my cake. My dad reaches out and thumps me on the back. In that moment, he’s the man I remember from childhood. I clear my throat several times.
“We’re… friends,” I manage at last.
He nods. “Real nice friend you got there. Most friends wouldn’t come to a family event like she did. You should thank her.”
“I did,” I say with a frown.
“Mmm,” he says, looking at me skeptically. “Rosa wants Sarah to stay over tonight. Would that be alright with you?”
