“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Didn’t you just get married a couple of years ago?”
“Over six years ago now. Remember? You came to the wedding.” That was the last time she’d seen him, in fact.
“Time flies. And how is your little one?”
“Maya,” she said, wondering if he remembered his granddaughter’s name. “She’s great. She’s the best, actually. So funny and cute. Here, I brought you a picture of her.” Melanie pulled the gift from her bag. She’d put it in a nice frame and wrapped it in gold paper tied up with a red satin ribbon. She handed it to him, but he just took it and put it on his lap, unopened.
“Thank you. I’ll save it for under the tree. I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you.”
“No, of course not. You didn’t know I was coming.”
Melanie suddenly realized what was different about her father. His English was astonishingly improved from what it had been years ago.
“Papi, you speak so well,” she said, confused, almost for a moment wondering if she was in the right house. But of course she was.
“That Gladys. She makes me practice every night with a tape. But she’s right, you know. It’s helped me a lot to move up at work.” He smiled. An awkward silence settled over them, which Melanie felt powerless to break.
“So,” he said after a pause, “how is your mother? And Linda?”
“Both in fine form. You know, you can’t stop them.”
He forced a laugh. “Linda wrote me a very nasty letter a couple of years back. Made me feel bad.”
“Well,” Melanie said, then stopped. She had to side with Linda on this one, even if she herself preferred to handle things in a less confrontational way.
“Very nasty,” Papi said again, but his words were belied by the mild look in his eyes. Melanie had the distinct sense he didn’t really care that much about getting kicked out of Linda’s life.
“I guess she never got over your leaving us like that,” Melanie said.
“You’d think she’d understand now that she’s older.”
“You never really explained it to us. I guess I don’t understand myself.” Her words came out sounding more accusatory than she’d intended.
Papi shrugged. “Your mother and I, we fought like cats and dogs. You saw that. It was bad for us, bad for you. With the robbery, getting shot and all, I almost died. I realized I only had one life to live, and I wanted to spend it with Gladys. That simple.”
“What about me and Linda?”
“Your mother’s a tough customer. I knew she’d take care of you, that you’d be fine.”
But we weren’t, Melanie thought. I wasn’t.
Papi must’ve sensed she wasn’t buying it. “Look,” he said, “it’s different when you face death. Things get very clear. You can’t bother with following the conventions.”
Melanie had faced death herself a couple of times. With a gun in her hand, staring down a vicious killer on the Jed Benson murder case. And again just last night, with six thousand pounds of steel hurtling toward her. Funny, those experiences hadn’t made her want to abandon Maya. Quite the opposite, in fact. But then Maya was more to her than a “convention” that she felt bound to observe.
“Whatever, Papi. I suppose it’s ancient history now,” Melanie said hollowly.
“That’s right. And I’m very lucky, because God gave me a second chance with my boys. I’m a very good father to them. I feel like they’re my real kids, you know?”
What was I? she thought. Practice? A bad dream? But there was no point in asking.
“Listen,” she said, standing up, “I’d better be going.”
“I should get back to what I was doing, too. Gladys has me out in the hot sun replacing the patio tile. The iguanas get in the yard and shit all over it. Takes the finish right off. My wife is a slave driver, but she keeps things nice, you know?” He smiled indulgently.
Melanie walked over to the door, and he followed her. She thought about asking for Maya’s photograph back but then decided it wasn’t worth it. He’d probably throw it away, but who cared, really? It was only a picture.
“Well, it was very nice of you to stop by,” he said, leaning across her and pushing the door open. “You’re looking very beautiful, very grown-up.”
“Thank you.” She studied his face for a final moment, wondering if she’d see him again in this life. She didn’t think she’d try. She was virtually certain he wouldn’t. He was so obviously relieved that the visit was ending quickly, without an upsetting emotional scene.
“I mean that. I said the same thing at your wedding. You turned out nice,” he said.
“Thanks, Papi. You take care.” She pecked him on the cheek and walked out the door, putting on her sunglasses, staring straight ahead.
It was around three o’clock now, and the afternoon had turned muggy and airless. Melanie started walking with no thought of where she was going, the heat of the sidewalk coming up through the thin plastic bottoms of her flip-flops. How blind could she be? Of all the answers Melanie had ever imagined to the urgent question of her father’s abandonment, she’d missed the most obvious one: He didn’t really care about her. It wasn’t that he longed to call but had been prevented from doing so by Gladys. It wasn’t that he blamed Melanie wrongly for some slight or some fault that she could correct or put right. There was no mystery, no magic solution. He just wasn’t that interested in her. She’d spent her life fixated on her father, preoccupied with his betrayal, experiencing her own relationships through the prism of his absence. But he didn’t spend his time thinking about her. And there wasn’t anything she could do about that either, except get over it and move on.
A distant rumble of thunder finally roused Melanie from her chaotic thoughts. Skies were clear where she stood but black and threatening to the west. If she got caught in a terrible downpour, it would only be a fitting conclusion to her visit. Yet why put herself through that? Nobody else seemed to be suffering. Why should she?
She started paying attention to the street signs, annoyed at herself for leaving her map behind in the hotel. The neighborhood was residential, quiet. No taxis on the streets, not many cars, and certainly no people walking in this withering heat. A gray sedan started its engine and pulled out behind her, cruising along slowly. Melanie glanced back over her shoulder, waiting for it to pass her by. But it didn’t. The glare on the windshield from this angle prevented her from seeing inside. She felt the tingle of déjà vu, and not in a good way either. Wasn’t this sort of like last night? Okay, the weather and the setting couldn’t be more different, but wasn’t this just like the Escalade pulling out of that parking space? Could they possibly try to run her down twice in less than twenty-four hours? That would show a distinct lack of creativity in the MO department. But what else could it be, the way this car was acting? Her heart started beating rapidly.
Melanie walked faster. The car kept pace with her. She looked all around. Nobody to help her. She stopped dead, panting with fear. The car pulled up beside her. She turned to run, just as somebody shoved open the passenger-side door.
46
WHAT THE HELL are you doing? Get in. It’s gonna rain,” Dan said.
Melanie heaved a tremendous sigh and practically collapsed into the waiting passenger seat. “Jesus. You scared me.”
“You should be scared. Fear is healthy for someone as reckless as you.”
The inside of the car smelled musty, as if the windows had been left open during a rainstorm, but the air-conditioning still came as a relief. And Dan, in jeans and faded T-shirt that clung to his muscular body just so, one powerful forearm draped over the steering wheel, looked sexy as hell.