Do You Know the Monkey Man?

by Dori Hillestad Butler

  “Whoa!” Bob said, stepping in between the two of us. He made a T with his hands. “Time out. I think the two of you need a break from this conversation. Sam, it’s late. Why don’t you go to bed.”

  What? He was telling me when to go to bed?

  “And Suzanne …” I realized right then that my mom wasn’t even looking at me. “Why don’t you come over to my room and we can talk without disturbing Sam.”

  What was she looking at? The wall? She looked like a zombie sitting there. I felt a pain in my chest. Maybe I had gone too far? Or…maybe Bob was right and Mom and I needed a break from this conversation. I was pretty tired.

  “Okay, I’ll go to bed,” I said. I moved my bag so I could pull back my covers.

  Bob took my mom’s hand and pulled her back up. Then he slowly walked her across the room.

  “Good night, Mom,” I said quietly. “Good night…Bob.”

  “Good night, honey,” Bob said.

  My mom didn’t say anything. I wonder if she even heard me.

  I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. I don’t think my mom or Bob did, either. All night long I heard muffled voices coming from next door. Sometimes I even heard crying. I didn’t think my mom ever cried.

  At some point I fell asleep. And obviously my mom must have come back because when I woke up the next morning she was sound asleep in the other bed, her back to me. The door between our room and Bob’s was open and I could hear him snoring.

  I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t. I was too wired to sleep. What was going to happen today?

  A few minutes later I heard my mom roll over. I opened one eye and glanced over at her. She was awake, too.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  I swallowed hard. “Good morning,” I said back.

  Mom sat up. “I think you and I need to finish our conversation from last night,” she said. She sounded a lot calmer this morning.

  I was calmer, too. “Okay,” I said, pulling my sheet up to my chin.

  Mom got up and came over to sit next to me on my bed. I shifted over to make room for her.

  “Sam, do you like Bob? Are you okay about us getting married?”

  “I like him,” I said, gazing up at the sprinkler on the ceiling. “And it’s okay that you’re getting married.” Really, it was. “It’s just…it’s going to be really different having him in our family, being part of his family, having him live with us.”

  “Yeah, it will,” Mom agreed. She smiled. “But it’ll be a good kind of different, don’t you think? Bob’s a wonderful man. And he loves you as much as he loves me. Believe me, I wouldn’t marry anyone who didn’t. He wants to be a father to you, Sam.”

  “I know.” I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at my mom. “But Mom, it doesn’t matter how wonderful Bob is. I still have another father out there. I know I shouldn’t have gone looking for him behind your back. But I just had to know something about him.”

  “Now you probably know more than you wish you did.”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “Me too, honey.” Mom leaned over and hugged me. “I wish I had tried harder to find him when you first started asking questions. I guess I figured once Bob and I were married, Bob would fill that need inside of you. That’s why I wanted him to adopt you. But if that’s not what you want, that’s fine. He and I talked about that last night. He doesn’t have to adopt you if that’s not what you want.”

  “I don’t know what I want,” I said honestly. “I just know there’s this hole inside me and I don’t know what can fill it. I’ve known all along that Bob can’t fill it. But I don’t think that…Joe can fill it, either. It might be that I’m going to need…both Bob and Joe to fill it.” I raised my eyebrow, trying to gauge my mom’s reaction to that.

  But she only flinched a little. “I know you want to get to know your dad now.”

  I thought I still wanted to get to know him. I was still pretty confused about all this.

  “I understand that, Sam,” Mom said. “Really, I do.” She reached for my hand. “It’ll take some time, but eventually I’ll be at a place where that will be okay.”

  “Really?” I asked, surprised.

  Mom nodded. “As long as you promise to try and be part of your other new family, too. The family that includes Bob and his mother and brother and sisters.”

  “I can do that,” I said. If she could give me the freedom to get to know my dad at some point, then I would do anything for her in return.

  Mom scooted back on my bed and leaned against the headboard. “I think the hardest piece of this puzzle is going to be T. J.,” she said with a heavy sigh.

  I sat up. “Y-you called her T. J.!”

  “Yeah,” Mom said softly. She put an arm around me. “You were right about that last night.”

  Mom rested her head against mine. “She goes by T. J. now. We can’t go back to calling her Sarah. And if she doesn’t want to come live with us, we can’t force her to or we’ll lose her forever. Just like you said.”

  “S-so you’re not going to try and get custody right now?” I asked.

  Mom shook her head. “Bob and I were up most of the night talking about this. Much as I’d like to go in there and demand that T. J. come live with us and Joe go to jail…it just wouldn’t be right, would it?”

  I looked away. “No, I guess not,” I said sadly.

  “If she’s happy, he must have done something right during these ten years,” Mom said.

  For a while, neither of us said anything. Then I asked, “Are you glad we found out the truth? Or do you wish we hadn’t?”

  At first Mom didn’t say anything. I could see her weighing it all out in the expressions that passed across her face. Finally she cupped her hand around my chin and smiled. “I think it’s always better to know the truth.”

  “Me too,” I said. And then we just hugged each other until Bob came over and asked if it was time for breakfast.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hurry up, Sam!” Mom called from our front door. “We don’t want to be late!”

  “I’m coming!” I called back. I fluffed my hair a couple more times, then peered at myself in my mirror. My hair wasn’t perfect, but it was going to have to do.

  I grabbed my purse, then hurried down the hall, weaving through all the boxes. My mom and Bob were getting married in three days. The movers were coming in four days. Grandma and Grandpa Sperling were coming tomorrow. And my sister, T. J., was coming today! I checked my watch. My mom and I had exactly one hour to drive to the Cedar Rapids bus station to meet her bus.

  “Do I look okay?” I asked my mom, spinning around for her inspection. I had on a brand-new white seventies-style blouse, my favorite jeans, and a gold monkey necklace.

  “You look fine,” Mom said. “How do I look?” She was wearing a blue skirt and a button-down white shirt.

  “Fine,” I said.

  Then we went out to the car. We figured that since this was T. J.’s first visit, Mom and I should go to the bus station to get her alone. T. J. could see Bob later. And she could meet the rest of Bob’s family much later. Like at the rehearsal dinner. Even Mom realized that all those people might be a little much for T. J.’s first couple of nights here.

  My mom had made up the couch in the den for T. J. We decided we’d ask her if she wanted a room at our new house. It would be totally up to her. We all knew she wasn’t going to live with us, but she was welcome to visit anytime. For as long as she wanted.

  “Are you nervous?” Mom asked as we drove into Cedar Rapids.

  “Yes,” I said. “Are you?”

  “Yes.” Mom smiled.

  We parked a couple of blocks away from the bus station, then walked back. It was a nice day, so we decided to wait outside.

  I checked my watch. Ten minutes. T. J. would be here in ten minutes.

  “Do you think she’s nervous?” I asked.

  “I’m sure she’s terrified,” Mom answe
red. “This is a big step for her, coming for the wedding.”

  T. J. wasn’t going to be in the wedding like me, she was just coming for the wedding. She would be here for one week. And maybe, just maybe, I would go there, to Joe and T. J.’s house for a long weekend in October when we were off from school. Mom was still thinking about that.

  “Look! I think this is her bus!” I said as a big bus came around the corner and slowly pulled into the parking lot.

  As the door to the bus wheezed open, Mom and I grabbed hands. Her hand was just as sweaty as mine.

  We watched anxiously as all the people filed off the bus. A woman my mom’s age with a little kid, two guys in jeans and T-shirts, an older lady with a flowery dress, and finally…T. J.

  She smiled a little when she saw us. She hoisted a medium-sized duffel bag onto her shoulder and walked over to us.

  “Hey,” she said, stopping in front of me.

  “Hey,” I said back.

  It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

  Acknowledgments

  While the act of writing is a solitary activity, no book is ever truly written alone. I’d like to thank Doug Vance of the Coralville Police Department for talking with me about the situation described in this book and for allowing me to interrupt his day on several occasions to ask “just one more question”; Judge E. W. Hertz for patiently and thoroughly answering all my questions on family law; Mary Scarborough for putting me in touch with Mr. Hertz in the first place; my Sisters in Ink friends for letting me ramble on about this project two years in a row; my editor, Lisa Banim, for guiding me in the right direction; and all the people at Peachtree who helped make this book a reality. I’d also like to thank my wonderful husband and children, who give me time and space to write every day…and without whom I wouldn’t be who I am today.

  —DHB

  Turn the page to start reading the follow-up to Do You Know the Monkey Man?

  Chapter One

  The little red light on our answering machine was blinking on and off when I wandered into the kitchen. I groaned. I could guess who that was.

  “Hey, Sherlock!” I whistled for my dog. “Do you need to go outside?” It was eight o’clock in the morning, so of course he needed to go outside. He came running, tail wagging and nails clicking against our cracked kitchen floor.

  “Here you go,” I said, holding the back door open for him.

  I wondered if we had anything for breakfast. I pressed PLAY on the answering machine and wandered over to the fridge to see what was inside. Not much. A little bit of milk. Bologna. Leftover pizza.

  The machine beeped and I heard, “Hello? T.J.?” My fingers tightened around the fridge handle. “This is Sam. Again.” I could tell she was trying to sound friendly and unconcerned, but she also sounded nervous. What did she have to be nervous about? She wasn’t the one who’d had her whole life turned upside down.

  “My mom and I just wanted to make sure you’re still coming on Wednesday,” Sam went on. “Are you? Did you get the money for the bus ticket? We need to know what bus you’re coming on and what time it gets in so we can come pick you up. Could you maybe call us back and let us know?”

  I grabbed the pizza box, then slammed the fridge closed.

  “Oh!” I jumped when I saw Joe standing on the other side of the fridge door. He had on an old T-shirt and ratty jeans. Work clothes.

  “Hey,” he said as though it was just another normal day, and we were just another normal father and daughter about to sit down to a nice, delicious breakfast together. Right. I’d have gone back to my room if Sherlock hadn’t still been outside. Believe it or not, Joe was the one who’d gotten me the dog. He chose a Westie because that’s what he had when he was a kid. He told me Westies were smart, loyal, and independent. Which was true. Too bad everything else he’d ever told me was a lie.

  “Are you planning to eat that pizza or are you just going to carry it around for a while?” Joe asked.

  Very funny.

  “Is there enough pizza left for both of us?” Joe tried again.

  I shoved a bunch of dirty dishes aside so I could set the box on the counter. “Open it and see,” I told Joe. It was the most I’d said to him in about three days.

  He pulled up the lid and grabbed a slice from the pepperoni side of the pizza. Once he moved out of the way, I helped myself to a slice of the bacon and pineapple and stuffed the pointy end into my mouth. It was like biting into cold cardboard. Fortunately, I happened to like cold, card-boardy pizza.

  “I take it you still haven’t called Sam back,” Joe said as he leaned against the stove.

  “Obviously not,” I said, wishing my dog would hurry up. I went over to the door to wait for him.

  “How many times has she called in the last couple of weeks? Three? Four?”

  “More like five or six.”

  Joe sighed. “T.J., you have to call her back.”

  “Why?” Even more important, why did he care whether I called her back?

  “Because when someone calls and leaves a message, you call them back. That’s the way it works.”

  Maybe in normal families.

  “I don’t have enough money for the bus ticket anymore, remember?” I said. I’d given him some of the money Suzanne sent me so he could pay our electric bill. Not that I minded. If I didn’t have money for the bus ticket, I wouldn’t be able to go to Iowa. Oh, well.

  “I’ve got your money right here,” Joe said, reaching into his front pocket. He pulled out a wad of bills and brought them over to me.

  I eyed the cash, but didn’t take any. “Where’d you get all that?” I asked.

  “Hey, I’ve got a job now, remember?” Joe said, a little too cheerfully. He grabbed my free hand, the one that didn’t have the half-eaten slice of pizza in it, pressed the bills against my palm, then closed my fingers around them.

  I popped the last of my pizza into my mouth and counted the money while I chewed. Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, one hundred dollars. I’d actually given him a hundred and twenty dollars, but whatever. It wasn’t my money. It was Suzanne’s.

  “What’s the matter, T.J.?” Joe asked. “Don’t you want to go to your mom’s?”

  Of course I didn’t want to go. I didn’t know these people. I didn’t even know Sam and Suzanne existed until Sam showed up on our doorstep three weeks ago and said she was my sister. My twin sister. I might have been able to get excited about that under other circumstances. Like, if her existence didn’t prove that my entire life had been a lie. Now I was supposed to forget everything I’d ever been told about who I was and be like any other divorce kid. Go to Iowa. Go to Suzanne’s wedding and act like her daughter. It was too much. Too much, too soon.

  “It’ll be okay,” Joe said as he went to the fridge and took out a can of Coke. “It’s only a week. It’ll go fast.”

  Was that supposed to make me feel better?

  “Maybe I’ll get there and decide I don’t want to come back,” I said, just to see what he’d say. “Did you ever think of that?”

  Joe popped the tab on his Coke can. “I have thought of that,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “And if that’s what you want …” His voice trailed off.

  It wasn’t what I wanted.

  Sherlock let out a short bark, so I let him in. He went straight to his food bowl, which was still empty. Holding tight to the hundred bucks, I grabbed the bag of dog food from the shelf next to the back door. Three ants crawled out from behind the bag. Gram would have a fit if she knew there were ants in her house. I smashed them with the bag, then poured some food into Sherlock’s bowl. He nosed his way in before I even finished pouring.

  “I called the bus station last night,” Joe said suddenly.

  I lifted an eyebrow. “You called the bus station?”

  “Don’t give me your lip. Of course I called the bus station. I knew you hadn’t done it. And I thought it was about time we made a plan for Wednesday. There’s a bus that leaves here at 7:20 a.m. and gets in to Ced
ar Rapids around 6:30 p.m. Cedar Rapids is the closest town to Clearwater that has a bus station.” He looked pretty proud of himself for finding out all that information. “Why don’t you call Sam back and tell her you’ll be on that bus?”

  “You’re the one who called the bus station,” I said. “Why don’t you call her?”

  Joe scratched his ear. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Do you?”

  No, probably not. After everything that had happened, Joe and Suzanne had been communicating through Mrs. Morris, my social worker. It was better that way. Safer. Personally, I thought it was safer for me to communicate with Suzanne and Sam through Mrs. Morris, too, but Mrs. Morris wanted me to talk to them directly.

  And now even Joe wanted me to talk to them directly. He grabbed the phone and held it out to me. “Call and tell them you’re coming, Teej,” he said. “Please.”

  I stared at the phone for a couple of seconds, then went to put the bag of dog food back on the shelf. “I think we should call and tell them I’ll come in a few weeks,” I said. “After the wedding.”

  I’d never actually been to a wedding before, but I’d seen enough of them on TV to know that this was a really stupid time for my first visit. It’s not like Suzanne and I would have any time to “get to know each other.” Not with some big wedding going on. And then the day after the wedding they’re going to be busy moving into their new house. Who invites a total stranger to their wedding and then asks the person to help them move?

  “Suzanne told Mrs. Morris that she wanted both her daughters there for her wedding,” Joe said. “I’m not really in a position to tell her no, am I?”

  Probably not. Because if he gets on Suzanne’s bad side, he could end up in jail.