| |
The next morning, Don, Perez, and Miss Nancy were cooing and fussing over Bridger while my mom monopolized Petreski. He looked like he was holding his own pretty well, so Dad and I slipped outside to take a tour of Miss Nancy’s garden. He turned to me, making a shushing motion with his index finger, and jerked his head towards the detached garage.
He looked over his shoulder before opening the side door, and we slipped inside.
“Why all the cloak and dagger, Dad?”
“No girls allowed!” he whispered.
“What are you, seven?”
“Hardly,” he answered, opening a toolbox and pulling out a bottle of apple whiskey.
“Dad! I’m shocked! Where are the glasses?”
The glasses, it turned out, were in a box on top of an upright freezer humming away in the corner. Dad poured us each a good-sized nip, and I sipped it as I looked around the garage.
“I’ve never been in here before,” I said. “I wonder why that is?”
“Really? Never?”
“Nope.” I walked towards the front of the garage, where a tarp covered what I assumed was a car. “Miss Nancy has a car?”
“Most people do.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think Miss Nancy drove.”
“She doesn’t unless she absolutely has to. But she can.”
“Do you think we should peek?” I looked over my shoulder to see my dad taking another sip of his drink. He shrugged.
“What the hell.”
Together we pulled the tarp back to reveal a spotless Nash Metropolitan. Dad let out a long, low whistle.
“Dayum, Nancy!”
“Miss Nancy is way cool.” I walked around the car, but didn’t see a single dent or scratch on the aqua paint, not even a smudge on the white upholstery. The fabric of the convertible top looked like it had just left the showroom. “I can’t believe she’s willing to slum it to the market in my car.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m going to let you drive me there in mine, am I?”
I jumped at the sound of Miss Nancy’s voice and my dad giggled. How much of that whiskey had he drunk while my back was turned? “Busted!” he exclaimed, and poured a little more into his glass.
“Lee Hillebrand! Are you getting drunk in my garage? At ten in the morning?!”
“No!” my dad said at exactly the same time I said “Yes!” He giggled again, so I think it was obvious who was telling the truth.
“Monica’s going to have a fit. Give me that bottle. Give it. Lee!” she huffed in frustration when my dad slipped away and circled to the other side of the car.
“Thought this clubhouse was no girls allowed, Dad.”
I took the bottle from my dad and put it back in the toolbox.
“Sorry, Miss Nancy.”
“It’s not your fault, but lord, your father is a lightweight. Keep him out here for a while. Maybe take a turn around the garden.”
“How’s Petreski doing, though? Does he need rescuing?”
“He’s fine. Got your mama eating out of his hand. How do you feel about a June wedding?”
“Ha ha. Just, if you can, don’t let her freak him out too much. Please.”
“Don’t you worry about that.”
“Miss Nancy?” She turned back when I called her name. “You really do have a pretty car.”
She nodded. “Thank you, honey. Cover it back up before your daddy does something foolish.”
I turned around to see my dad opening the driver’s side door.
“Dad! No!” I pulled him back and closed the door. “Let’s go check out the garden, Dad. I think I saw some fruit ready to pick on Miss Nancy’s limequat tree.”
I put the tarp back on the car and led my dad back to the garden, grabbing a basket on the way out.
We found the limequat tree, and I handed my dad the basket. While he was occupied with hunting out ripe fruit, I stepped to the side and texted Petreski.
“u ok?”
“ok. ur mom is sweet” he texted back.
“b careful. That’s how she lures u in”
When he didn’t respond again I started to worry that my mom had confiscated his phone. I was just about to go check on him when he stuck his head out the back door.
“I have to go!” he called out.
“What? Why? What’s wrong?” I jogged over to the steps.
“I got a call from... what’s wrong with your dad?”
I turned to see my dad shaking his fist at the limequat tree and could hear the annoyed screech of a squirrel. “He drank too much whiskey while we were ogling Miss Nancy’s vintage auto.”
“That’s what I get for asking. Look, Helen Nguyen called, and I need to head out to her restaurant.”
“Okay, it’s fine. I’ll see you later.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Um, take care of your dad.”
I turned to see that my dad was now having an intense argument with the tree. “Oh, Dad,” I sighed, jogging back over to where he stood. I looked up in the tree to see Raymond looking back down at us and screeching at my dad. At this point I should probably mention that Raymond is a squirrel who lives in the live oak tree outside my apartment. I have some unusual friends.
“Raymond! What are you doing here?!”
He screeched again, but quieter this time.
“Dad, what’s going on?”
“That squirrel was giving me a hard time about picking these limequats. Called me a thief!”
“Raymond! He’s not... wait, what? Dad, what did you say?”
“That rude-ass squirrel called me a thief!”
“Raymond? Is this true?” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation, but hey, Dad started it.
Raymond chittered at me, and I got the gist.
“It’s okay, Raymond. He’s my dad. Give him a break, okay buddy? Extra sunflower seeds tonight. Deal?”
He chittered again, and with a flick of his tail he was gone.
“Okay, Dad. Ray – uh – the squirrel is gone. What’s all this about him calling you a thief?” Could my dad communicate with Raymond, too? Was this some kind of family thing that had been kept from me?
“Hm? What’s that, son?”
“The squirrel that was just here. You said he called you a thief. Was he talking to you, Dad?”
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous! We should take these limequat thingies inside.” He picked up the basket and started across the lawn toward the house. I sighed and followed him. If there was something there, it wasn’t something he was prepared to talk about, or it was lost in a whiskey-induced haze.
* * *
“I’m telling you, dude! My dad was talking to Raymond! Like actually having a conversation, not just talking at him like most people do with animals.”
Don unlocked his apartment and deposited a sleeping Bridger on the sofa. The little guy was worn out after a morning spent being fussed over and loved on by Miss Nancy and Perez.
“I dunno, man. I mean, didn’t you say he’d been drinking? Maybe it was just him being, like, silly or something.”
“No. I really don’t think so. He was angry and Raymond was angry and the sense I got from Raymond was that there really was some kind of communication going on.”
“And tell me again how much of this apple whiskey you had?”
“Hardly any! Just a few sips. I got distracted by Miss Nancy’s fancy car. Dude, you should see this car! Like it just rolled off the lot and it’s got to be at least sixty years old!”
“Promise me you will never touch it.”
“I wouldn’t dare. My dad, though. Miss Nancy needs to lock her garage with him around.”
We were in my apartment by now, and I opened the window closest to the live oak tree. No sign of Raymond yet. “I wonder what he was doing all the way up at Miss Nancy’s?”
Don snorted. He wasn’t Raymond’s biggest fan. “So you think, what? That maybe your dad has something going on with animals, too? Like maybe you inherited this and no one will talk about it? Like some deep dark family secret?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, it’s gotta come from somewhere, don’t you think? Do you think Grandma Rosemary would know something?”
“If she did, though, don’t you think she’d have mentioned it? I mean, that’s right up her alley. She loves all that new age mumbo-jumbo stuff.”
“True. She’d love to brag to all her friends about her gay psychic grandson. Which is why I can’t just ask her straight out.”
“So you are thinking about asking her, then?”
“Well, duh. I just have to be sneaky about it.”
“Oh geez. Maybe I should ask her.”
“I think I can handle my own grandmother.”
“More like she’ll handle you.”
Don had a point. Grandma Rosemary is a force of nature. No one ever gets anything over on her. No one really tries.
“Well, I’m gonna call her. We’ll just see what happens.”
I could tell Don was relieved when I got Grandma Rosemary’s voicemail. I left her a message, but whether or not she’d call back was a fifty-fifty proposition. I’d try again tomorrow.
“Well, that gives us some time to figure out what you’ll say,” Don said when I ended the call.
“Best not to overthink these things,” I told him. “She’d be able to tell.”
“Okay. I’ve got stuff I’ve gotta do. I need to get online and register for a couple of classes if I’m going to start on Monday and catch up. Can I get a ride to campus with you Monday morning?”
“Yeah, of course. Later, dude.”
Don went back to his place and I settled in to do some studying. I was determined to do well this semester, in spite of all the craziness going on around me.
* * *
I was getting dressed and waiting for my parents to show up when I heard Raymond chittering at the window.
“Hey, little dude,” I said as I put out a generous handful of sunflower seeds. “You gave me a shock this morning.”
I crouched down so I was at eye level with him. “Did you really call my dad a thief? I’m not mad, just curious.” I wasn’t sure if Raymond understood the distinction, but I couldn’t help talking to him like he was a tiny person, and I got the feeling he understood my intent, even if not all of my words.
“I mean, mainly I’m wondering whether he was really understanding you, or goofing around or what.”
Raymond stopped eating for a moment, his attention turning to the car pulling up at the curb. My parents.
“That guy, Raymond,” I whispered, pointing at my dad as he stepped out of the car. “Were you talking with that guy earlier?”
Raymond let out an annoyed screech and my parents looked up. My dad scowled at the squirrel on my window ledge, and my mom waved at me. I waved back and went downstairs to let them in.
“Are you ready to go, dear?” my mom asked as they came inside. “Oh, hello!” I turned to see who she was talking to and saw Dani leaving her apartment.
“Hi!” she said. “You must be Jake’s parents!” Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail so tight it looked painful, and I figured she was off to work with a client. I made the introductions and my mom, of course, was delighted to meet the woman who was trying to keep her son fit and healthy.
“She seems nice,” my mom said as we climbed the stairs to my apartment.
“Wait until she makes you do pushups. Then you’ll change your tune.”
“I heard that!” Dani called from downstairs. I heard one of the exterior doors open. “I am nice!” I heard the door close behind her.
My dad started to laugh, but stopped when he saw Raymond sitting on my window ledge eating sunflower seeds. I was pleased to see that all the shell bits were outside and not on my floor.
“That’s Raymond,” I told my parents. “Hey, Ray. Thanks for keeping it neat with the shells, there, buddy.”
“I didn’t know you had a pet squirrel,” my mom said.
“Oh, Raymond’s not a pet. He’s a neighbor. I guess you could say he lives next door. You know, in that tree?”
“Is he friendly?” Mom asked, approaching Raymond slowly.
“I guess. I respect his space. That’s my mom, Raymond. Be nice, okay? Where we going for dinner, Dad?”
“Hello Raymond,” I heard my mom say. “You’re a very handsome squirrel.” I glanced over to see Raymond twitching his nose at my mom, but he was definitely not upset.
“Not really sure,” my dad said. “None of the places your mom wants to go to take reservations, and there’s so many new places in the area. We might end up waiting a while for a table. How hungry are you?”
“I’m always hungry, Dad, you know that. But I can wait. Let’s try wherever Mom wants. If it’s too long a wait we’ll go somewhere else. Once we make a decision I’ll text Petreski and he’ll meet us.”
Catering to Mom is a sure way to get on my dad’s good side, which is how we found ourselves sitting at the bar at one of the hot new places along Studewood, sipping on cocktails while we waited for a table.
Petreski looked flustered when he arrived, and I wanted to ask him what had happened with Helen Nguyen, but I wasn’t sure how appropriate that would be in front of my parents.
“You okay?” I asked him as we followed my parents to a table on the patio.
“Yes and no,” he whispered back. “I’ll tell you all about it after dinner.”
