.
Yeah, fucking around was another thing I was good at, and one I wasn’t banned from. UntilIbanned it, waking up one morning and not remembering how I’d gotten home, what painkillers I had mixed with my drinks, or who was the naked brunette in my bed.
“Your knee got worse?” the woman across the aisle now asked.
“Yeah,” I grunted, lowering myself into my seat-bed.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“No, thanks,” I repeated with a smile then closed the acrylic sliding door that sealed my cubicle from view.
I didn’t mean to be rude, but the pain was killing me, and the unwanted attention was getting on my nerves.
When we deplaned in San Francisco, I was the last to leave, limping my way out and refusing help from her and the attendants.
Only the pre-booked chauffeur waited for me outside.
No fans, no paparazzi. That was the whole point of coming here, “to heal and come back big time,” as my agent suggested, probably so he could focus on clients who could actually play.
But now that I was here, I felt empty. I wasn’t looking forward to meeting Walter and his criticism.
And I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Rio.
Rio Mio, whose eyes always made me look at myself from the outside, as if she reflected me to myself. She was the only woman who had always seen me just as I was and not as she thought, expected, wanted, or hoped I’d be. I used to like what I saw in there years ago. But I feared I’d despise the view now.
When she asked me to be the one to take what she called her “lingering virginity” at nineteen, she said she chose me partly because I’d be gone soon. No strings. No complications. Now, years later, I was supposed to live on the same floor as her—as if that night had never happened.
3
Rio
“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TOget birdseed for his girlfriend.”
“It’s not birdseed, Walter. It’s oatmeal, and we add it toyouryogurt.” I was putting away the rest of the groceries in the kitchen cabinets.
On the open shelves, I kept a special place for the health products I brought from the shop. I loved how the sage and lavender labels added color to the otherwise white kitchen. I worked hard to keep this unpractical color immaculate. I suspected Owen had never intended on actually living here when he’d bought the house. But then his grandfather moved here when burst pipes in his old house rotted the wood and ruined the main electrical system. And a few years later, I moved here, too.
“You think I’m frail like a bird,” Walter grumbled. “Should have seen me twenty years ago. All the pretty, young fifty and even forty-year-olds chasing me!” He was sulking over his low-fat, low-salt dinner at the kitchen table.
“You’re not frail and you’re still handsome, Walter. The ladies at the senior swimming class are always ogling you.” Iturned and leaned against the counter. “So, you think he’s bringing a girlfriend?”
I encouraged Walter to be more talkative over the phone with his grandson, but he always pretended not to understand my cues. “Why are you rolling your eyes?” he’d ask out loud. “What does that mean?” he’d add when I’d make a hand gesture that encouraged him to roll the conversation. “I don’t understand what she wants,” he’d mumble straight into the phone for Owen to hear.
I ended up texting Owen myself to let him know I’d still be here when he arrived, to which he responded, “No problem.”
To whom?
“If he brings anyone, I hope it’s not the one from last time,” Walter now said. “For a supermodel, she wasn’t even pretty.” He pulled up his brown cardigan’s sleeves. “Behaving like it was her house,” he muttered to himself. “Sure, he owns it, but I live here, and he can’t bring overnight guests without asking me. I’m old and infirm.” He pouted.
I laughed. “You’re not infirm, Walter. You’re healthier than much younger men.”
Walter gave me his bestI was an IRS auditor so don’t try to be cutescowl. He loved feeling sorry for himself, but to be honest, he had reasons. His only son remarried and moved to the other side of the country, and his only grandson lived on another continent.
“Maybe you should rest if you want to stay up late for your grandson,” I offered now.
Walter pushed his plate and got up. On his way out of the kitchen, he turned to me. “If you can,Rio, make sure you have lots of kids and make your kids have lots of kids. That way, you’ll increase your odds that one of them will turn out less of an asshole.” With that, he marched toward his ensuite on the ground floor.
“He’s not that bad. You’re being too hard on your relatives,” I called after him and watched the dismissive hand gesture he threw behind his back as he kept on walking.
