19

This time, he’d promised to be on his best behavior. He knew exactly what to expect. It had been three years since Victor’s dad had left. Three years and four possible replacements, and the first meetings were the same every time. Big smile, but not too big. I’m not here to take your dad’s place. I understand your bond with your mother comes first.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” the new guy said before releasing Victor’s hand. The man was narrow-shouldered and big-headed, with a forehead that took up half his face and a salt-and-pepper helmet of hair. He’d worn a suit, double-breasted, and a tie with tiny pirate swords on it.

“Me too,” Victor said.

They sat on the back porch of Victor’s house, the site of every first meeting. The porch overlooked a gentle grassy slope, at the end of which stood a wall of pine trees, and beyond that, the front range of the Rocky Mountains. It was late September. With the breeze came the first hint of winter.

“I’ll be right back with some tea,” his mom said. Victor had noticed the changes in the months since she met this one, Winslow. The hair. The makeup. The wardrobe. The jewelry. All of it fancier, more aggressive. Not all at once, a little at a time, but enough to notice.

She put her hand on Winslow’s pinstriped shoulder and gave it a squeeze as she passed by. Winslow kept his eyes on the spot where her hand had been until the door closed. Then he looked at Victor. He leaned forward, smoothing down his tie as he moved.

“I don’t want to be your dad.”

Here it came, like clockwork. “Okay.”

“You already have one of those,” Winslow said. “And I don’t want to be your uncle, either. I don’t want to be your friend. I’m here because your mother is a wonderful person.”

“Okay.”

“We can agree on that, can’t we? That your mother is a wonderful person?”

“Yeah,” Victor said, becoming uneasy. “Yes.”

“Do you ever say that to yourself? ‘My mother is a wonderful person.’ You should.” Winslow scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. “Go ahead. Try it now.”

Victor knew he was supposed to act tough, this being their first meeting and all, but he was unable to keep his eyes from widening. “You want me—”

“Just once.”

“My mother is a wonderful person.”

“Good. That’s good.” Winslow leaned back and his face broke out into a wide smile. “Now how about you fucking treat her that way.”

Victor didn’t know how long they sat there after that, in silence. It felt like two hours. Mercifully, the screen door creaked as Victor’s mom backed through holding a tray of iced tea.

“You need a hand, Lisa?” Winslow said, his eyes still set on Victor’s.

Victor pushed himself to his feet and held the door open.

“Thank you, Victor,” his mom said, with surprise in her voice.