38

Very rarely did Joel come to Bernie’s Diner. Partly, it was because he never had any spare money. He spent every penny, nickel, and dime on comic books and movies. Another reason was because Bernie would try to put him to work washing dishes or cleaning windows.

Joel wasn’t afraid of work, exactly. But he didn’t like the exacting standards Bernie Jager adhered to.

But the day Mike left, he’d stood at the counter after school let out, eating a piece of pie and sipping a glass of milk that I’d paid for, waiting for me to have half a minute to talk to him.

“Annie,” he said, shoving a mouthful of crust into his cheek. “Remember Parent Trap?”

“Yup,” I answered, trying to count the money from the cash register but losing my place and having to start all over again.

“Remember how they tricked their parents into having dinner together?” He grinned. “And it ended up being romantic, with candles and music. And then their parents fell in love with each other again.”

“I remember,” I said. “And, no, we aren’t doing that to Mom and Frank.”

“Come on.”

“Joel, it would never work.”

“Why not?”

“They’ve seen the movie.”

“Mom has,” Joel said. “But are you sure about Frank?”

I wrote down my total and tapped the stack of bills on the counter, making them even. “We are not going to trick our parents into getting back together.”

Ever since he was small, Joel had a pout that could melt me into doing just about anything he wanted me to. So, I turned my back on him and stuffed the cash into an envelope for Bernie to put in the safe.

“Come on, Annie,” he said, making his voice sound younger. “Please.”

“Nope.”

“He’ll leave soon, you know that, right?”

“I know,” I said.

“This is our chance.”

Sighing, I turned back toward him. “We can’t trick him into staying. And we can’t force Mom to take him back.”

Slumping, he leaned his elbows on the counter. “I just want to know what it’s like to have a normal family for once.”

“Then you’re going to have to find another family that will let you join them,” I said. “Pal, we’re anything but normal.”

“You sound like Mike.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I took his empty plate and glass. “If you wait half a minute, I’ll walk home with you.”

I did up Joel’s dishes, thinking about how easy it had been for the mother and father in The Parent Trap. All it had taken was remembering how good it had been before. Kiss, second wedding, happily ever after.

Putting the dishes in the drainer to dry overnight, I wished it was that simple, putting a family back together. But then again, I wondered if I’d even want Frank to live in our house again, to upset the rhythm of our life.

I hung up my apron and grabbed my jacket.

Frank didn’t come for supper that night. I thought for sure that he’d pulled up stakes again and went back to Bliss. Mom had me warm up three frozen dinners in the oven and we ate off of TV trays in the living room, watching the news.

The Christmas tree was still up, looking stark and gray without the colorful lights shining at it.

I wondered how long it would take to fly from Michigan to Vietnam. If they’d fly straight over the Pacific Ocean or if they’d swoop up over Canada and Russia. Did they stop somewhere to refuel the plane? How many boys were with him? Had he made any friends?

As I chewed a rubbery square of turkey, my stomach turned. I spit the meat out into my napkin, deciding that I couldn’t eat one more bite of it.

Joel’s head perked up. “Frank’s coming,” he said.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I can hear his truck.”

Neither Mom or I questioned him. Since he was little, Joel had an uncanny ability to recognize a vehicle by its rumble or growl or whine.

Sure enough, around the corner came the dull headlights of Frank’s truck. He parked in front of the house and cut the engine. Joel and I watched him from behind Mom’s flossy sheers as he sat a moment longer. I half feared that he’d give up, start the engine again, and drive away.

But he didn’t. He got out, slammed the door shut, and made his way up the walk.

Mom didn’t turn off the television or stop eating the mashed potatoes from her dinner.

Joel let Frank in without waiting for him to knock. Frank had on a red flannel shirt and a well-worn pair of jeans. He glanced at Mom.

“Did you have supper?” Joel asked.

“I’m all right,” Frank answered. “I can’t stay long.”

“Close the door,” Mom said, not looking away from the TV. “I don’t pay good money to heat the outdoors.”

Frank and Joel moved, doing as she’d asked. The program went to a commercial break, and I pushed out my TV tray to turn it off. Mom gave me a dirty look but didn’t say anything.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Frank said, not meeting eyes with any of us. “First thing in the morning. I have to get back to work.”

Joel’s smile fell.

“Sorry, son. I wish I could stay.”

Joel nodded. “You’ll come see us again?”

“I will,” Frank said. “I promise.”

Frank stayed until Mom told Joel it was time for him to get to bed. The two of them shook hands, Joel no longer having any hope for a hug.

“I’ll walk you out,” I said, grabbing a sweater off the end of the couch and pushing my arms through the sleeves.

I followed him onto the porch, pulling the cardigan tighter around me. The air was crisp, the way an October evening should be.

“He wanted a hug,” I said after shutting the door behind me.

“You think so?” Frank asked.

“He wants to know you.” I turned toward him. “And he wants you to know him.”

“Did he say that?”

“Not in those words, but yes.”

“I figured I’d missed my chance.”

“Not with him, you haven’t.”

We walked down the porch steps and along the path toward his truck. He put his hand on the top edge of the tailgate as if holding on for dear life.

“Do you ever wish you hadn’t left?” I asked. “I mean that first time.”

“Every day.” He turned and looked into the truck bed as if he might find something there. “But I couldn’t have been a fit father to you kids.”

“Sometimes I wonder if an unfit father would have been better than no father.”

He rubbed a hand along his jawline and furrowed his brow. “I asked your mother if she wanted me to give her a divorce.”

I swallowed, regretting that I ate even one bite of that frozen dinner.

“Why did you ask her that?”

“In case she wanted to get remarried.” He shrugged. “Some other man could give her the kind of good life she deserves.”

“What did she say?” I leaned my hip into the back of the truck, looking up into his face.

“She said she has to think about it,” he said. “I told her she could have as much time as she needs.”

“Do you really want a divorce?” I lowered my voice when I said the last word, it felt wrong coming from my mouth, like a cuss word.

He cleared his throat. “Not if she doesn’t want one.”

He let go of the truck and crossed his arms.

“Will you come and visit again?” I nudged up my glasses with my knuckles. “You won’t be a stranger again, will you?”

He shook his head.

“Well, I’d better get going. It’s a long drive.” He turned toward me, looking me full in the face. “Do you want me to hug you?”

Without answering him, I took a step forward, lifting my arms and putting them around his neck. He put his hands between my shoulder blades. It was only a second, but it didn’t matter.

I thought about how a normal father wouldn’t have had to ask. That a normal daughter wouldn’t have felt awkward in his arms. That the usual thing for a girl to say to her dad was how she loved him. It would have been ordinary for him to say it back.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that I couldn’t have an ordinary life with Frank.

I’d long given up that hope.

Frank,

Why did you tell Annie that you asked if I wanted a divorce? Doesn’t she have enough to worry her with Michael being away? She’s not your friend and she’s not your confidante. She’s your daughter. You would do well to remember that.

As to your question of divorce, I still have no answer to give you. You’re just going to have to wait.

Gloria

Dear Gloria,

I didn’t realize I’d upset Annie. That wasn’t my intention. I shouldn’t have told her, I know that now.

Take all the time you need. I’m in no hurry.

Sincerely,
Frank