Grandma went to have a cup of coffee so she’d be perky for the trip home. I stayed and watched the planes. All those big birds coming from faraway places. It almost took my mind off the dad who didn’t like me.
Grandma came back, announcing, “I’m gonna have to make another stop soon. That was a lotta coffee.”
“I hope you do it before they start coming through that door. You know him better than I do.”
“He looks like Yves Montand,” she said.
“Considering I don’t know who that is . . .”
“He used to be a French movie star. He’s gone now. I always thought he looked like your dad.”
I didn’t know my dad any more than I knew Yves Montand, so that was no help. I went to the restroom as a precaution, and then Grandma went.
The board changed. The plane had landed. An announcement confirmed it.
“Now we wait,” Grandma said. Exactly what we’d been doing.
“What if we wait and he never shows?” That was what I was afraid of. Things like that always happen. You get keyed up about something and it falls flat.
“If he doesn’t show,” she said, “we check to see if he’s on the manifest. If he is, we keep waiting. If he isn’t, we go home.”
She was right about waiting. It took a while before even the first people began to trickle out of Customs. We moved from the big window to get closer to the trickle.
We had to keep moving. People got in the way. People came out and were greeted and hugged, presented with flowers and kisses, and more people got in the way.
“He wasn’t on it, was he?” I said.
“Knowing Jules, he’ll be the last one off.”
“Why is that?”
“There’s more space at the end of the line. He likes his space.”
That was the excuse he gave when he first left us. I was thinking it over when she waved and shouted. “Hey, Jules!”
There he was, the wiry frame, the wide mouth with smile lines, and downward-slanting eyebrows, all familiar from the pictures he sent.
And someone else, familiar from the last batch of photos. A young woman. She looked Chinese.
“Jules!” Grandma shouted again. “Over here!”
He was taller than I expected from the pictures I’d seen. He wore a navy blue jacket over a white dress shirt with no tie, and creased chino pants. He’d been scanning the waiting crowd. When she called the second time, his eyes opened wide. He broke into a surprised smile. “Iva?”
They collided in a hug and kissed each other. Grandma had no hard feelings against the man who walked out on her daughter and granddaughter almost seventeen years ago.
She pushed me forward. “Do you know who this is?”
He stared at me with brownish-bluish eyes. “That can’t be Cree.”
“Um—hi, Dad.”
“The hair,” he said. “I know the hair. It’s longer now.”
My reddish hair grew almost to my waist. It had to be longer than it was six years ago. I kept it pinned back with a barrette shaped like a butterfly.
“This,” he said, “is my friend Mei.” He pronounced it “May.” I only learned the spelling later.
She was a lot younger than he was, maybe early twenties. And cute. I couldn’t help wondering how Mom was going to like this. I had wondered that last fall when he sent a picture of her. Grandma reminded me that he and Mom were history ages ago.
They didn’t have much luggage. Maybe it was going to be a short visit. Grandma made us wait in front of the building while she went to get her car.
Right by the door was not a good place, with people coming and going, with taxis, porters, and baggage carts. Dad herded Mei and me to one side and asked, “Where’s Liam?”
“Who?” I said, and then realized. “Is that Hey Buddy?”
“Eh?”
“Um—” We shuffled again to allow for taxi pickups. “We got a letter, um—addressed to us but it started ‘Hey, buddy.’ I think you might have mixed up the envelopes. We didn’t know who Hey Buddy was or if he got your flight information, so we came ourselves. I mean Grandma and I did. Mom had to work.”
“Is that what I did? Mixed up the envelopes?” It seemed to fluster him. Mei giggled. I wondered if they were married, or going to be. I looked at her covertly and tried to imagine her as a stepmother.
She must have been way younger than Mom. And had black hair, of course, being Chinese. She wore it in sort of a pageboy, like Maddie’s, except Maddie’s was brown and curled more. She had on peach-colored pants and a matching jacket. Off-white sandals with stiletto heels. If it weren’t for those heels she’d have been shorter than me. I am five feet six. She made me feel clunky and unfashionable even in my designer jeans with flowers embroidered on the back pocket. I had bought them last fall for the Harvest Moon Dance but never got to go because that was when Troy, my boyfriend, dumped me. Until today, I couldn’t stand the sight of them.
Grandma drove up and pressed a button that opened the trunk. After stowing their luggage, Dad stowed Mei and me in the back seat while he sat in front with Grandma.
As we started off, I looked at Mei. She was busy watching the airport go past with all its terminal buildings.
When she turned my way, I tried asking. “Do you have any idea who Hey Buddy is?”
The look on her face was blank. “Hey—bud-dee?”
Of course she wouldn’t know. That was Dad’s own phrasing.
I remembered what Dad had said. “Liam. Do you know who Liam is?”
For a moment I thought I saw some recognition. Then the blankness came back. “Li-am? Who is?”
Maybe she didn’t know much English. I found it hard to believe that Dad could speak Chinese. Or Malayan, or whatever they talk in Borneo, even though he lived there. I couldn’t see him as being that cosmopolitan.
“Thanks, anyway.” I gave her a nice smile. She’d tried.
I tapped Dad on the shoulder. He was chatting away with Grandma. “Would you please tell me—”
He waved his hand and patted his ear. I took it to mean he couldn’t hear me from up front. Or maybe he didn’t want to hear me. He half-turned and said, “We’ll talk later.”
Sure we would.
Murmurs and laughter came from the front. Grandma always was a flirt. But flirting with my dad seemed a bit much.
Mei asked, “This is…Long Eye-lan?”
“That’s right,” I said. “Soon we’ll go over a big, long bridge and then we’ll be on the mainland.”
She nodded wisely, but I could tell she didn’t understand much.
“You’ll know when we get to the bridge,” I said. “It goes off in several directions and it touches three boroughs.”
I was quite sure she didn’t get that, but she gave me her wise nod again.
In the silence I heard Grandma mention the name Hudson Hills. With a question mark. What was that about, the high school murder? Grandma was something of a crime buff, but I couldn’t see her launching right into anything so gruesome. Dad only just got here.
“There’s the bridge up ahead,” I told Mei. “Can you see it?”
She leaned forward to look through the windshield. She didn’t try the word “bridge.” She said, “Ah-h-h,” as if it were awesome. It sort of was. I wondered if they had bridges like that in Borneo. I hadn’t gotten much from the Internet, and hardly anything from the pictures Dad sent.
He stopped talking to Grandma and looked out the window. Was this all new to him? I couldn’t remember how he got to Southbridge the last time he came. If Mom picked him up at the airport, I’d have been with her. I would have insisted, but didn’t remember any such trip. Maybe someone else had picked him up. Maybe Hey Buddy.
We went up a ramp and onto the bridge. From there, most of the view was buildings and a river or two. Not very spectacular, but Mei seemed fascinated. I used to think of Borneo as mostly jungle, but those pictures of fancy resorts said there was more to it. Of course that’s what they’d show on
the Internet, for reasons of tourist trade.
I pointed out Manhattan, way in the distance. Right now, I told Mei, we were going through the Bronx. I wasn’t sure how much she got of what I said.
How could she not know who Liam was? Or Hey Buddy, and whether or not they were the same person. From Dad’s letter I had the impression that this trip was mostly about Hey Buddy. So why couldn’t somebody tell me?
Soon we were back on ground level, once more among apartment buildings. Mei seemed transfixed. It must have been quite a change from fancy resorts and jungles. Wasn’t Borneo where they had a horrible tsunami some years back? A lot of people were killed, including tourists. My dad never mentioned it. He must have been somewhere else when it hit, lucky him.
Mei asked, “What is this B-l-onx?” She couldn’t say it all in one syllable.
I wasn’t clear what she was asking, but did the best I could.
“It’s the only one of New York’s five boroughs that’s on the mainland,” I said, feeling like a schoolteacher. “The rest are all islands. Way back it used to belong to a guy named Jacob Bronck. I think it was a farm, or something. It must have been humongous.” I doubted she knew what “humongous” meant. “Since it was his, they called it ‘Bronck’s.’ And then it turned into ‘the Bronx.’”
The expressway got us through it and on into Yonkers. You couldn’t tell the difference except for signs. I wished Grandma would take the parkway instead. It was prettier.
After a while, she did. Now Mei could see that we had some nice scenery. And no tsunamis.
We got off at the exit before our usual one. What was Grandma trying to do?
It didn’t take me long to find out. We passed a green sign announcing Hudson Hills. I’d been through there before but never gave it much thought. It didn’t mean anything to me. It had a speed limit and Grandma slowed.
The slowness made for less noise. I could hear what they said up front. I heard Dad say, “Salt Street. Do you know where that is?”
“Can’t say that I do,” Grandma replied. “You’ll have to guide me.”
We passed a thing called Jade Avenue. If I had to choose, I would rather live on Jade Avenue than Salt Street. They both looked the same, rows of ordinary houses with little yards in front. Some had garages, some only a driveway. That was what we had at home, just a driveway long enough for two and a half cars.
She slowed still more when we were partway down Salt Street. I wondered if there was a Pepper Street. We stopped, and my dad leaped from the car.
So did Mei, not wanting to be left behind. Grandma popped the trunk and Dad whisked out their luggage. He set his typewriter down on the sidewalk so he could blow kisses. He called, “Nice seeing you again, Cree.”
Those were his only words to me.
Chapter Four
I thought Dad would look back, but he didn’t. Not even once. Mei did, and waved. They went up the front walk to a dreary-looking house, dark brown with dark green trim. It had a paved driveway but no garage. There weren’t any cars in the driveway. While Grandma waited to be sure they got in, I moved to the front seat.
Dad rang the doorbell and stood listening. Nice seeing you again, Cree. That was it? His own daughter? After six years?
The door opened. I couldn’t see who opened it, but I heard a loud exclamation that could have been male or female. Dad and Mei disappeared inside.
“I was hoping they wouldn’t be there,” I said.
“How come?”
“Then he’d—” Then he would have to come to our house, at least for a while. I didn’t want Grandma to know how I felt. Let her think I didn’t care.
I said, “That must have been a surprise, him showing up like that. Unless he called them on the way.”
“Not from the road. I’d have noticed.” Grandma pulled away from the curb. “Now how do I get out of here?”
“Back the way we came.” I directed her as best I could remember. As soon as we were on familiar ground, I started in.
“Okay, I’m guessing that’s Hey Buddy’s home. Do you have any clue who Hey Buddy is? I asked Mei and drew a blank.”
“Nope. Not a clue,” Grandma said.
“He didn’t say anything in all that time?”
“He said plenty, but not about Hey Buddy. Now I got a question. Who’s Mei in all this? Is she a girlfriend? A wife? A secretary?”
“Why would he need a secretary? He doesn’t do anything. I thought she must be a girlfriend of some sort.”
“How many sorts are there?” Grandma asked.
“You’re evading me again. I want to know who Hey Buddy is and who Liam is and if they’re the same person.”
“When you find out, tell me. I don’t know anything about his family. Could be a brother, a cousin, a friend. Who knows?”
It was possible she really didn’t know. But I couldn’t understand why nobody had any answers. Someone, like Mom, must have known something.
I had a sudden longing for Ben. Okay, it wasn’t sudden, it was all the time. So what if he had his odd moments? At least he was sane, not like everybody else in my life.
As soon as we were home, and through the greeting routine with Jasper, I said, “I think I’ll take a walk. I’ve been sitting too long.”
Grandma looked at me in surprise. “Oh, to be young. Me, I’m gonna crash. It’s kinda nice I don’t have to make lunch and be a hostess.” That was Grandma’s way of looking on the bright side.
I set off on foot for Frosty Dan. My feet were all I had. Sometimes I got to use Grandma’s car, but this time I didn’t ask. She would say it needed rest as much as she did. To her the car was a person, not a machine. She even gave it a name. She called it Archie.
According to my watch, it was a little after three. Ben started work as soon as school let out. When I got there, he was serving two freshman girls who eagerly chatted him up. Ben did his best to be polite, but I could see he wasn’t genuinely interested. That made me happy. I settled myself at the end of the counter and waited till he had a free moment.
More customers came in. Ben had to serve the tables as well as the counter. They should have given him an assistant, namely me.
After everybody got what they wanted, he picked up a rag and began mopping. When he worked his way down to where I was, he asked, “How did it go?”
“Weird,” I said. “He went to a house in Hudson Hills. Grandma dropped him off there and that was the last we saw. If they never got word he was coming, it must have been quite a shock, especially because he brought his girlfriend. The one in the picture I showed you. Her name is Mei and she doesn’t know anything either, not about Hey Buddy. That really stumped her. As for Liam, I couldn’t tell.”
“Who’s Liam?” he asked.
I forgot Ben didn’t know. “It’s a name that came up at the airport. Dad was surprised to see us there and asked, ‘Where’s Liam?’ I’m thinking it might be Hey Buddy, but that’s not much help.”
Ben went on mopping, with nothing to say. I asked, “Do you know anybody in Hudson Hills named Liam?”
He took a moment to squint at me. “I don’t know anybody in Hudson Hills named anything.”
“He lives on Salt Street.”
“Never heard of it.”
The two girls watched us, yearning after Ben and probably wishing I would disappear. Maybe Ben wished so, too. Finally they finished their sundaes and left, looking over their shoulders. One of them called, “You should be in the movies.” They giggled and fled.
A party of four came in and sat at a table. While they debated what to order, Ben came back my way. I said, “Seventy-nine Salt Street.”
“Never heard of it,” he said again.
“It’s brown with dark green trim.”
“So?”
“Is there any way you can find out? You have all those Internet search things you know how to do.”
“What do you want found?”
“I want to know who lives there.” I thought that would be obv
ious.
“What’s it to you who lives there?”
“Well, he is my father, or so they tell me. I might even have relatives.”
“You have doubts about him being your father? How about a DNA test?”
“Oh, boy. I can just imagine asking for that. What would Mom say?”
“One way to find out.”
Frosty Dan got busier. I knew I was in the way, so I went home.
Grandma offered me an egg salad sandwich. It was late afternoon, but Grandma was a stickler for three meals a day. I ate it in the kitchen while she puttered.
“Have a nice walk?” she asked. Translation: Where did you go, and why, and what did you do there?
So I told her. “I went to Frosty Dan but I didn’t eat anything.”
“Yeah? How’s the hunk?”
“Hunky, as usual.”
“You didn’t stay long.”
“No, he was busy.”
“Did he kick you out?”
That was getting too close. He might have, if I hadn’t left. I didn’t tell her that and she didn’t ask.
I wanted answers, too, and didn’t ask. Why bother? Nobody answered me anyway.
I went upstairs to my room and lay on the bed. I kept it near the window so I could look out.
On weekdays Ben didn’t get off work till nine or later. Then he went home and studied physics and solid geometry. I worried that all the pressure would give him a heart attack and he’d miss graduation.
After a day like today, I figured at the very least he would go home and crash. It had to be exhausting, working long hours on his feet. Dealing with people and making chit-chat. To an Aspie like Ben, that alone could be stressful. So it was a big surprise when I saw his blue truck coming down the hill from Maple Street, right into our driveway.
Grandma called, “The hunk’s here! But don’t stay up too late.”
I went down to meet him. His first words were, “Are you running?”
He meant my computer. I dashed back up and turned it on. While it loaded, I went to the kitchen for Pepsi and chips. He accepted a Pepsi and sat down at my desk.
“Ben,” I said, “what are you doing? What about physics and solid geometry?”
Under Cover Page 3
