“Pirate Plunder was nothing. You should really see me in action.”
“I don’t think I’d need nor want to. I’d like to avoid any potentially dangerous or emergency situation that may involve my daughter, please.”
“Fair.”
“This last question I think would be most important. I always like to ask about long-term vision. What’s your five-year plan for PS 2? What are your goals for the school? How would you ensure that PS 2’s mission and long-term goals are met, all while handling day-to-day tasks? That sort of thing.”
“Oooo. That’s a juicy one. I love that one,” she says, and I can tell she really does. She really does love this shit. “I haven’t thought about that one yet specifically.”
“I’m sure you have general ideas,” I say.
“But I need to have more clearly delineated ones,” she is able to add on, because she is quick and sharp and a fucking rockstar.
“Correct. That always looks good. Shows you’re prepared and organized.”
“Thanks, Dom,” she says, sounding far too enthusiastic for someone to sound over interview questions at nine o’clock at night. “This was extremely helpful. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I think I’ve just become exponentially more attracted to you.”
“Same,” I say.
* * *
The next night, she calls while Frankie and I are eating dinner. I pop her on speakerphone immediately.
“Hi, Tita Lina,” Frankie screams, then chokes momentarily on a piece of potato.
“Oh my god, hey queen!” Lina squeals, after I make sure Frankie’s airways are clear. “How’s my favorite army commander?”
“I’m over World War II. I’m into space now,” my daughter says very seriously.
“How’s my favorite astronaut then?” Lina amends without missing a beat. “Have you learned about black holes yet?”
“Yes.” She nods, even if Lina can’t see her.
“Can you tell me everything you know about them? I’ve always been interested in them, but I never knew how they worked.”
Frankie takes a deep breath, and I stand up and start clearing the table with a smile on my face and a fuzzy feeling in my belly.
* * *
Thursday night, I’m brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed at nine thirty, because I am Extremely Cool and Totally Hip, when someone buzzes the apartment. I spit into the sink and start walking towards the buzzer, wondering who it could be. Tita Gloria or Tito Ben would come right upstairs and just knock on the front door. Sometimes packages were delivered this late, but I don’t remember ordering anything recently.
“Who is it?” I say into the intercom.
“Ahoy,” a warm voice says, with an attempt at gusto.
My heart rate elevates. I buzz her in.
I open the door, and a sleepy, wild lioness collapses into my arms. I squeeze her, smell her hair, run my hands up and down the soft curves of her back, her sides, just holding her and inhaling and absorbing. I wonder why and how it feels like home. I pull back to get a good look at her. Her eyes are still glowing, dimmer than usual, but still warm and happy to see me. I run my thumbs along the dark circles underneath them. “How did you know where we lived? Please don’t say you looked through Frankie’s school files. That’s kind of weird.”
“No,” she says with a smile. “I agree that’s weird. I asked Oliver.”
She pulls away, and I realize she’s wearing a suit. “Did you just leave work?”
“Yeah,” she answers quietly, sounding unlike her usual self. Slow and sleepy Lina reminds me of melted caramel, cozy and drippy and delicious. “I’m exhausted.”
I start maneuvering her to the kitchen. “Did you eat dinner?”
“Yes, I ate. Ms. Madge shared a ton of food with me.”
