My alarm bells were going off, for all the good it did me now. Before when my Tommy alarms went off all I knew to do was run. But out here I didn’t have any place to run to. All that was left was to try to mollify him. “It’s just that we’re pretty hard to find out here,” I said. “Even when you know where you’re going. Daddy wanted it that way.”
“Daddy.” He laughed. “I don’t hear a lot of grown women using that word, Mary. That’s a little girl’s word. I know the old guy is a very smart man and all, a genius, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, I just got me some real good directions. That’s all it takes, Mary, good directions. It’s not like this place is top secret or anything. You know, it’s not even that special, whatever your dad may say.”
“You talked to my mother.” No question, there. It was the only way I could think of that would have gotten him here.
“I told her I was trying to make things right with you again. She wanted to help out.”
“You got her drunk, didn’t you?”
“She’s a very friendly lady, not stuck up like the rest of the family, who seem to think they’re better than everybody else on the planet.”
“Jesus, Tommy, you didn’t sleep with her, did you? Tell me you didn’t sleep with her!”
Tommy kept walking around the room, looking at things, touching things, as if he was doing inventory. He wasn’t looking at me, and he was doing that thing with his mouth he always did, that thing that looked like a smile, but he always said it wasn’t a smile, it was just an expression. “You know, I don’t know what you want from me. You’ve never taken the time to really understand me.”
“Mary, you didn’t tell me we had company.” I felt myself go rigid, holding back a wave of anxiety that threatened to overwhelm me. My father had never met any of my bad choices before. It was as if the two halves of my life were suddenly, dangerously colliding, and I was powerless to stop it.
I thought that if I were just a healthy person, a strong and mature woman, I could say, Dad, this is Tommy. He isn’t supposed to be here. He’s followed me out here from New Jersey and if he stays in character he’s going to cause us a lot of trouble, because that’s what he does. He’s dangerous—I think you should call the local police immediately.
That’s what I wanted to say, but knew I would not. In fact, just the thought of saying those things made me tremble. I thought my trembling might be noticeable, given the odd way my father was looking at me.
Instead, I told him, “Dad, this is… my old friend Tommy. Tommy, my dad.” I kept thinking about something my dad once said. Something like, politeness doesn’t get us what we need, sweetheart. In fact, worst come to worst, it might even get you killed.
“Pleased to meet you, sir!” Tommy was half-way across the room, offering my father a handshake. I saw my father hesitate, glancing at Tommy’s narrow, long-fingered hand as if it were a scorpion. Then he took it, his wide palm practically covering it, as if he were shielding me from it.
Tommy looked at my father’s hand over his own, a glimmer of surprise showing in his face. Obviously my old man wasn’t quite what he’d expected. He pulled his fingers out of Dad’s grip. Then he grinned, forcing a recovery. “Anyway, it’s a real honor. Mary’s told me so much about you, I practically feel like I know you already.”
Dad nodded. “I understand. It’s odd, though, that she’s never told me anything about you.”
“Why, Mary, I’m surprised,” Tommy said, exaggerating his expression. “You’re not keeping us a secret are you?”
I couldn’t believe this. Did he get away with this crap? Well, of course he did. He used to get away with it all the time with me.
My father gazed directly at me with that appraising look of his that had always made me so uncomfortable. And so angry. He could end this charade now, if he wanted to. He could get rid of Tommy just like that—I’d seen him do it with uninvited fans and unwelcome salesmen—and that’s all Tommy was: my uninvited fan, my unwelcome salesman. My father had no patience with things interrupting his day, unless they were carefully planned interruptions. It had never been that easy for me, getting rid of what got in the way.
“Then you’ll have to stay for dinner,” my father said.
Of course it was a test, like hundreds of other tests he’d concocted for me since I was a little girl. But I wasn’t a little girl anymore, and he had no business. The three of us shared an awkward meal of stew and biscuits during which my father asked simple, straightforward questions, and Tommy provided elaborate, self-aggrandizing answers, much more than was needed for the conversation at hand.
“So you think you might like to settle down around here?” he asked Tommy, but looking at me, measuring my reaction. I made myself lock eyes with him, attempting to show no emotional involvement whatsoever, and naturally, failing.
“Well, I’m seriously considering it, sir,” Tommy said, his mouth full of biscuit. Then he looked up at my father with these big, brown, puppy-dog eyes, his “sincere” look, and I cringed. You can’t seduce my father, you idiot, I thought. “I’ve always believed that change was good, you know? Without change, things would just stay the same all the time, and that can’t be good, can it? Unless what you had before was so good you’d be a fool to change. You know what I’m getting at?”
My father stared at Tommy silently for a moment, then said, “Yes, Tommy. Yes, I believe I know exactly what you’re ‘getting at.’”
“I know you’re a smart man, successful and all. I just want you to know how much I respect you, and of course, respect your daughter. I know she and I have had our differences of late, and I want you to know I realize that was completely my fault. I take full responsibility, and I intend to make up for every disrespectful thing I did in regards to her. Of course, she’s a little stubborn.” Tommy glanced at me, making a stupid little, insincere smile. It was an incredibly awkward moment. When no one reacted, Tommy went on. “And that’s a good thing, a sign of character, is the way my saintly grandmother would have put it. I certainly wouldn’t want to change that. I just wanted to ask you sir, as a man of the world, a great artist, a successful man, if you think there might be a place for one such as myself, out here in all this beautiful country? It’s such a rare opportunity, my getting to meet such a great man as yourself, I hope you don’t mind, I just couldn’t pass up a chance to get your valuable advice.”
My father turned and looked at me, smiled. He waited, obviously wanting me to say something, but I wasn’t about to open my mouth. He turned back to Tommy. “I believe, Tommy,” he said, “that there is a place, and a function, for everyone. There’s an old bunkhouse behind the house. It’s not much, but it is shelter, and I’ve always found it, peaceful. Feel free to stay there until you find your own place, your own function.” He looked at me again, not smiling. “My daughter will show you the way.” I thought I was going to scream, but I didn’t even open my mouth.
I remember walking fast through the weeds and cacti, angry, out of breath, hoping to discourage Tommy from saying anything. He stumbled at my heels, and that gave me great satisfaction. “Hey…” I ignored him.
I didn’t know who I was angrier at: this creep Tommy, for coming here, playing his old numbers in a place where no one was going to be fooled by his playing, or my dad, punishing me for not taking a stand, treating me like a school girl in need of basic training. And, as much as I couldn’t stand Tommy, I hated the way my father had played him—it felt like a direct insult to me. And it was so typical of my dad. When I was a kid I thought that kind of behavior meant he thought he was better than everybody else, and I hated him for it. It took years, but I finally saw that he had the utmost respect for honesty, integrity, hard work. He just had an unusual intolerance for everything else.