Zigzag (30 page)

“What is it?”

“Probably a letter from what's-his-name,” Marsh said.

I shook my head. “Mom would have said if she'd sent one on.”

“I think it's bigger than a letter,” Cesar said. “Go in and see!”

We all piled out of the car and ran into the house. There, sitting at the kitchen table with Sukey was my dad, with less hair than I remembered and a little blond boy perched on his lap. Across from him sat Allison, who I'd only seen once before, when she was six months pregnant.

I stopped just inside the door and stared. Marsh and Iris stopped and stared, too, even though they had no idea who these people were.

“Robin! There you are!” Dad stood up holding David in his arms, patted my shoulder, and kissed me on the cheek. I kissed the air next to his left ear and felt his stubble rake my jaw. The two of us were never very comfortable with hello and good-bye.

“I can't believe you're here!” I said.

“Well, gee, kiddo, you came three quarters of the way—we couldn't very well let you turn around and go home again without even seeing you. Besides, David was anxious to meet his big sister.”

Allison had come over to me by that time, too. She put her arm around my waist lightly. “As soon as we told him his sister was coming to visit him, he couldn't talk about anything else!” she said. “We didn't want to disappoint him.”

David stared at me, his eyes big as walnuts. He didn't act like he couldn't stop talking about me.

“Hi, David. I'm glad to finally meet you. I'm Robin.”

He burrowed into his father's shoulder and stuck his thumb in his mouth.

“He's a little shy,” Allison explained. “He'll warm up when he gets to know you better.”

“We can only stay one night, I'm afraid,” Dad said. “It's hard for me to take off work in the middle of the week like this, but I told them it was a family emergency. I was afraid you might be gone by the weekend.”

“I'm so glad you came,” I said, noticing how comfortable David was leaning into my father's chest, obviously a familiar spot for him. A little stab of jealously poked me, but I pushed it aside.

“And you must be Dory's children,” he said.

“Iris and Marshall. This is my dad, in case you haven't figured that out yet.”

“I'm glad to meet you,” Dad said.

They looked at him suspiciously.

“I was so sorry to hear you lost your father last year. That must have been very difficult for you.”

Still they stared. I was half afraid Iris would say, “We didn't lose him—he
died
!” But maybe that's just what I was thinking. I'm the one who lost my father.

Finally Marsh said, “Did we ever meet you before?”

“No, but I used to know your mother.”

“When?”

“Oh, a long time ago.”

Dad looked uncomfortable, but Allison stepped forward and bent over at the waist to speak to Iris and Marsh, even though she was the same height as Iris and only a few inches taller than Marshall. “I thought we could all go out for dinner later. How would that be? Any place you want to go.”

“Could we go someplace they have French fries?” Marsh asked. “We haven't had any in ages.”

Iris rolled her eyes but remained silent.

Dad laughed. “I'm sure we could find someplace like that. David likes French fries, too, don't you, Davy?”

At last the little boy grinned, a beautiful smile that scrunched up his eyes and dimpled his cheeks. “I wike Fench fwies.” God, this child was my brother.

It was a strange day.
Dad, Allison, David, and I walked downtown to get lunch. Sukey offered to fix something for all of us, but Dad said that wasn't necessary. When we left Iris and Marsh were sitting at the table spreading peanut butter on crackers and giving me the evil eye. Cesar, who was pouring their milk, winked at me and didn't spill a drop. I had already decided not to think about whether or not he was cute. He probably was, but I had too much else on my mind already.

“David, do you want to hold your sister's hand?” Dad asked the poor kid on our way into town. David looked at me nervously and shook his head.

“He doesn't even know me yet, Dad. Give him a chance.”

The boy looked up at me from his post, glued to my father's leg, and said, “My daddy.” The first words my brother spoke to me and they were full of sibling rivalry already. Dear God, would we become Iris and Marshall?

“Remember what we talked about, Davy?” Allison said. “Daddy has two children. He's your daddy, but he's Robin's daddy, too.”

“And I love you both,” he said, looking meaningfully at first David, then me. We'd only walked three blocks and already I was exhausted by the level of emotion this reunion entailed. If David had asked me right then to relinquish my share of Jerry Daley so he could have full ownership, I would have agreed to it. It would have been simpler for everybody.

Because Davy really needed a nap after lunch, we all sat through an awful cartoon movie. The toddler conked out after ten minutes while the rest of us stared at a screen full of talking cockroaches for another hour and a half. If they knew the kid would fall asleep anyway, why couldn't we have gone to something decent? I didn't even get to watch him sleep—which would have been a chance to look at him as much as I wanted to without freaking him out—because Allison was seated between me and Dad, whose lap was obviously David's personal futon.

After that, Allison wanted to look at some of the shops, so Dad and I offered to take David to the Plaza where he could run around a little. There was a group of kids playing guitars under a tree, which seemed to intrigue Davy. He stood watching them for a while until they stopped playing and tried to talk to him—then he came running back to us. Dad eagerly let him crawl back into his favorite spot, even though Davy's sneakers left grassy stains on Dad's pants.

“I'm so glad I could get you two kids together,” he said, his grin spreading out to his ears. “I want you to get to know each other. It's my goal that you not be strangers.”

I wondered if Allison had the same goal. I kept thinking there was so much I wanted to ask him, so many things I didn't know about my own father.
What does your house look like? Do you like your job? What kind of books do you read? Does Allison make dinner every night or do you cook? What do you do for fun on the weekends? Is it always hot in Phoenix? Is your house air-conditioned? Do you have cactus growing in your yard? Are you and Allison going to have more children? Do you ever think about my mom? Do you ever think about me?

But you can't just start asking somebody questions like that, even if he is your father. So all I said was, “Do you like living in Phoenix?”

“We love it,” he said. “Ally grew up there, you know.”

“No, I didn't know that.” Apparently, I didn't know much.

“Yeah, it's her home. And I've settled in there. It's my home now, too.”

The man sitting next to me on the bench seemed like a complete stranger. Where was that nervous guy who used to try to keep my mouth busy with burgers and milk shakes so I wouldn't talk too much? Had I
ever
sat on his lap?

Dad was so excited about being a husband and father this time around he couldn't stop talking about it. He even wanted me to be a part of it. I kind of wanted that too, except I couldn't figure out how to do it. This was a complete family already—mother, father, and child—when you added in a half sister or a stepdaughter it got too complicated. “We'll get you out to our place one of these days,” Dad said. “Soon! So David still remembers you.” He gave his son a hug. “So you can have a big sister!”

David eyed me uncertainly. He was probably wondering why he needed a sister anyway. I was wondering if that was what all this family stuff was
really
about. Getting a sister for David, not a father for me.

For dinner Sukey had suggested a restaurant she knew about that had a cowboy theme and fat French fries. Savannah had been invited, too, to thank her for all she'd done for us, so we took two cars. Marsh and Iris climbed in with Savannah, and Dad's family got into his car, and I stood there between them, unable to choose which direction to go. I felt more a part of Savannah's family than Dad's, and certainly closer to Iris and Marshall, after all we'd been through. But I knew I was expected to go with Dad, that I should be glad they wanted me with them, accepted me. Reluctantly, I climbed into the backseat next to Davy's car seat.

By the time we finished our burgers and fries, Davy had warmed up to me, and to Marshall, too. Since Iris was as silent as
humanly possible, he probably wasn't even aware of her existence.

David had watched gleefully as Marsh stole French fries off my plate from across the table. Since Davy was seated right next to me, he tried the same maneuver. We got into a little game with the two of them ganging up to ravage my plate, and me pretending to be outraged. Davy got the giggles after Marsh gave him a high five. When I ran low on fries, I grabbed a pile from Iris's plate, since, of course, she wasn't really eating them, anyway. Allison was a little dumbfounded by her angel and his new pal flinging food around the table, but Dad seemed thrilled with the camaraderie between the three of us. He kept saying, “Are you teasing your sister?” as if teasing were the greatest compliment that could be paid. Which, I guess, from a two-year-old, it might be.

On the drive back to the Black Mesa Motel, there was no question of where I'd sit. David demanded that “Wobin” sit on one side of his car seat and “Marthow” on the other. Iris flew into the front seat of Savannah's car as if she couldn't wait to escape the rest of us. Dad's family had taken a room at the Black Mesa for the night, too, and Marsh and I walked them to their door, each holding one of David's hands.

“I guess we should say good-bye to you tonight,” Dad said. “We have to get on the road real early tomorrow. Allison's on a committee about building a new elementary school and there's a meeting tomorrow night, so we have to get back for that.”

“I would just skip it,” Allison explained, “but this is the week we talk about the various sites we've visited and I have to report on my site. It's pretty important.”

“Oh, sure,” I said. But what I was thinking was,
One day? You came all this way, and we haven't even had a decent conversation yet, and you're leaving already?

“I wish we had more chances to see you,” Dad said. He looked like he meant it, like he felt bad about the quick visit. Then he
said, again, “I want you and David to get to know each other.”

“I know, Dad. Me too. I've been kind of thinking I might like to go to college out here,” I said, letting the idea I'd been playing with escape into public for the first time. Why shouldn't I go to school someplace interesting? I didn't have to stay in Iowa. Isn't part of education seeing different things and meeting new people?

“Really, Robin? That's wonderful!” Dad's eyes got sort of damp looking and I was afraid he was going to start crying.

Once again, Allison came to the rescue. “Davy and I are going to say good night now. He needs to get to bed.”

“No bed,” he said, but he could tell Allison meant business. Marsh gave him another high five before he ran off to our room, and then Davy even let me give him a kiss on the cheek.

“'Night, Wobin,” he said, letting his dimples show once more.

“Good night, David. I'll try to come and visit you sometime. Okay?”

He nodded. “Vithit me!” he demanded. Allison gave me a quick hug and hustled Davy into their room.

And then I was standing in the dark, alone with my dad. I smiled shyly. “I guess I better go, too.”

His words rushed at me suddenly. “Tell your mother I want to help pay for your college. I don't have a lot of extra money, but I can help. I want to be part of it, Robin. I want to be part of your life.”

If you'd told me before the trip that my father was going to make this proclamation, I think I would have been thrilled. At last I was going to have a real father. But that just wasn't the way I felt at the moment. His words hit me like a handful of pebbles and what I felt like saying was,
“Isn't it a little late now?
”

But I didn't. I said, “Thanks, Dad.” I put my arms around his shoulders in a lightweight hug and let him brush his cheek against mine once more. “Thanks for coming. Tell David I love him.”

T
he morning after our dinner out with Dad, Iris was in a fury. I woke up to her standing over my bed with her hands on her hips. “How nice of you to rub it in our faces, Robin, that you have this great father and we don't!”

Apparently my sleeping later than usual had given her a chance to indoctrinate Marshall into this cuckoo line of thinking, too. “Yeah,” he said, frowning at me, “how do you think this makes
us
feel?”