Carl laughed again with his peculiar style, making Kim wonder if the guy snored when he slept.
"I've a new Lear jet," Carl added. "Well, technically it's Foodsmart's, at least according to the IRS. Anyway, as you undoubtedly know, for such an aircraft the FAA mandates we have two highly qualified pilots."
"Of course," Kim said as if he were intimately aware of the rule. The last thing he wanted to do was reveal his ignorance of such things. Nor did he want to let on how angry it made him feel that a businessman who did nothing but shuffle paper could have such perks while he, who worked twelve hours a day on people's hearts, was having trouble keeping his decade-old Mercedes on the road.
A clatter of footfalls on the uncarpeted stairs heralded Becky's arrival. She had an overnight bag and her skates thrown over her shoulder. She dumped both onto a chair in the front hall before racing into the living room.
Kim hadn't seen Becky since the previous Sunday when they'd spent a happy day at a nearby ski area, and Becky acted accordingly. She made a beeline into Kim's arms and gave him an enthusiastic hug, momentarily making him lose his balance. With his face pressed up against her head, Kim could feel that her brunette hair was damp from a recent shower. The remnant odor of the shampoo made her smell like an apple orchard in bloom.
Without letting go of Kim, Becky leaned back and assumed a mock reproving expression. "You're late, Daddy."
Kim's aggravations of the day melted as he regarded his darling, precocious ten-year-old daughter who, in his mind, glowed with grace, youth, and energy. Her skin was flawless, her eyes large and expressive.
"I'm sorry, pumpkin," Kim said. "I understand you're hungry."
"I'm starved," Becky said. "But look!"
Becky turned her head from side to side. "See my new diamond earrings? Aren't they gorgeous? Carl gave them to me.
"Just chips," Carl said self-consciously. "Sort'a late Christmas present, and something for letting me borrow her mom for the weekend."
Kim swallowed. He was taken aback. "Very impressive," he managed.
Becky let go of Kim and went out into the foyer to gather her things and get her coat out of the front closet. Kim followed and went to the door.
"Now, I want you in bed at your normal time, young lady," Tracy said. "You understand? The flu's making the rounds."
"Oh, Mom!" Becky complained.
"I'm serious," Tracy said. "I don't want you missing school."
"Chill out, Mom," Becky said. "You have fun and don't be so nervous about…"
"I'll have a great time," Tracy said, interrupting her daughter before she could say something embarrassing. "But I'll have a better time if I don't have to worry about you. You have the phone number I gave you?"
"Yeah, yeah," Becky intoned. Then, brightening, she added: "Ski the Big Burn for me."
"Okay, I promise," Tracy said, as she took Becky's coat from her daughter's arms. "I want this on."
"But we'll be in the car," Becky complained.
"I don't care," Tracy said, helping her daughter into the coat.
Becky ran to Carl, who was standing in the doorway to the living room. She gave him a hug and got her mouth close to his ear. "She's real nervous, but she'll be okay. And thanks for the earrings. I love them."
"You're welcome, Becky" Carl said nonplussed.
Becky ran to Tracy and gave her a quick hug before dashing out the door held open by Kim.
Outside Becky ran down the stairs and waved to Kim to hurry up. Kim broke into a trot.
"Call if there's a problem." Tracy yelled from the porch.
Kim and Becky waved as they got into Kim's car.
"She's such a worrywart," Becky said, as Kim started the car. Then she pointed ahead, through the windshield. "That's a Lamborghini. It's Carl's car, and it's awesome."
"I'm sure it is," Kim said, trying not to sound as if he cared.
"You should get one, Dad." Becky said. She turned her head to look at the vehicle as they drove by.
"Let's talk about food," Kim said. "I was planning on picking up Ginger. I thought all three of us could go to Chez Lean."
"I don't want to eat with Ginger," Becky said poutingly.
Kim drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The stress of the day at the hospital, even the meeting with Carl, had him on edge. He wished he'd had time to play some tennis. He needed some form of physical outlet. The last thing he wanted was a problem between Becky and Ginger.
"Becky," Kim began. "We've been through this before. Ginger likes your company."
"I just want to be with you, not your receptionist," Becky complained.
"But you will be with me," Kim said. "We'll all be together. And Ginger is more than my receptionist."
"I don't want to eat at that stuffy old restaurant either," Becky said with emotion. "I hate it."
"Okay, okay," Kim said, struggling to control himself. "How about we go to the Onion Ring on Prairie Highway. Just you and me. It's just up the road."
"Fabulous!" Becky perked up, and despite her seat belt, she managed to lean over and give Kim a peck on the cheek.
Kim marveled at how adroitly his daughter could manipulate him. He felt better now that she had reverted to her normal, vivacious self, but after a few miles Becky's comment began to gnaw at him again. "For the life of me," Kim said, "I don't understand why you have this thing against Ginger."
"Because she made you and Mom break up," Becky commented.
"Good gravy," Kim snapped. "Is that what your mother says?"
"No," Becky said. "She says it was only part of it. But I think it was Ginger's fault. You guys hardly ever argued until Ginger."
Kim went back to drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Despite what Becky had said, he was certain Tracy had to have put the thought in her mind.
As he turned into the Onion Ring parking lot, Kim shot a glance in Becky's direction. Her face was awash in color from the huge Onion Ring sign. She was smiling in anticipation of their fast-food dinner.
"The reason your mother and I got divorced was very complicated," Kim began, "and Ginger had very little…"
"Look out!" Becky cried.
Kim redirected his gaze through the windshield and saw the blurry image of a pre-teen on a skateboard off the right front fender. Kim jammed on the brakes and threw the steering wheel over to the left. The car lurched to a stop but not before colliding with the rear of a parked car. There was the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.
"You smashed the car!" Becky shouted as if it were a question.
"I know I smashed the car!" Kim shouted back.
"Well, it's not my fault," Becky said indignantly. "Don't yell at me!"
The skateboarder, who'd momentarily stopped, now passed in front of the car. Kim looked at the child, and the boy irreverently mouthed: "Asshole." Kim closed his eyes for a moment to control himself.
"I'm sorry," he said to Becky. "Of course it wasn't your fault. I should have been paying more attention. And I certainly shouldn't have yelled at you."
"What are we going to do?" Becky said. Her eyes anxiously scanned the parking area. She was terrified lest she see one of her schoolmates.
"I'm going to see what happened," Kim said as he opened his door and got out. He was back in seconds and asked Becky to hand him the registration packet from the glove compartment.
"What broke?" Becky asked as she handed over the papers.
"Our headlight and their tail light," Kim said. "I'll leave a note."
Once inside the restaurant, Becky immediately forgot the mishap. It being Friday night, the Onion Ring was mobbed. Most of the crowd were young teenagers in a ridiculous collection of oversized clothing and punk hairstyles. But there were also a number of families with lots of small children and even infants. The noise level was considerable thanks to fussy babies and competing ghetto blasters.