I cock my head so I can see the book they’re looking at—it’s a high school physics textbook, and that’s pretty much all the invitation I need to sit down.“You’re doing physics already? I didn’t get to do this until sophomore year.”
“River’s in some advanced placement classes this summer,” says Ben, looking across the table at me. His eyes look so blue in here, I have to tip my own down to the book again to stop from staring.
“What’re you stuck on?” I ask, and again River looks toward Ben first, who nods in my direction. I’m amazed by this change—by how Ben, who practically hauled this kid across the parking lot not so long ago, has managed to earn his trust.
It’s not as easy for me, but after forty-five minutes of working with River on his physics homework, I think I’ve made decent strides. River doesn’t talk much, and he does not laugh at my classic“photon traveling light” joke, but he pays attention. At some point Ben leaves the table, telling me that Henry was only allowed to be on his boot for thirty minutes at a time, and though I hear them arguing out there, I stay focused on River, enjoying the easy work of his equations. It’s nice, after the day I’ve had.
Finally Henry wheels in, his face red.“Smalls!” he shouts, and River looks up, apparently used to this nickname.“Break’s over. Come out here and help me rearrange some tiles. This jerk says I can’t do it alone.”
“Dad,” Ben says, coming in behind him.“Relax.”
Once we’re alone, Ben sits across from me and lets out an exasperated sigh, rolling his shoulders.“Jesus, what a day.I remember zero things about physics.”
“He seems to like you. River, I mean.”
Ben snorts.“Yeah, I mean, he’s only been here a couple of times, but he seems to want to be around, which is weird. Today’s not even his day to come, but I think these summer classes aren’t that much fun for him. He’s got a little trouble hearing in the bigger classroom spaces. From what little he’s said, I gather he takes some heat from older kids.”
“That’s too bad.” I got my fair share of teasing in school, but Alex’s reputation around was usually enough to keep anyone from messing with me too much.“But your dad’s up, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s progress. Took him to physical therapy yesterday, which he complained about right up until they told him he could put some weight on the leg this week. And then he—he gets a little bit of permission, you know, and he wants to chuck all the rules out the window. If he doesn’t follow the rules…” He trails off and lets out a another sigh, rubs his fingers through his hair.“Sorry. He’s been—a lot this week.” I wonder how it would feel to stand up, to move behind him to rub the tension out of his shoulders. I wonder how it would feel to be the person who got to do that for Ben.
Instead, I say,“It’s okay. I didn’t have such a great day, either.”
“Yeah?” he says, but I don’t like it. I don’t like that he’s said it so cheerfully, that there’s a spark of hope in his eyes.
“No need to look so gleeful, Ben. It doesn’t have anything to do with work,” I lie. My voice is harsh, snappish.
He has the decency to look ashamed. But then he asks,“Did you get my email?”
“Yes,” I say, feeling cool, defensive again, and even though I’d come here seeking a bit of respite, now I can’t wait to leave.“I’m still not interested. Look, I really only came to pick up the light.”
“Right.” He stands from his chair, a little slowly. I can see the fatigue written all over his lean, strong body, and I try not to feel sorry about being short with him—after all, he kind of deserves it—but I really, really do. Before I can think of something to say, though, he leaves the office, and it’s a few minutes before he comes back, holding a box that looks way too big for the light I remember.“I packed it for you earlier—you have to use a lot of material for something this delicate.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling terrible now.“Thanks.”
“I could install it for you. If you don’t want to call an electrician.”
“That’s okay,” I say, but I don’t want to call an electrician, even though I do have a good one that’s already done some rewiring in the house. I want Ben to do it, because Ben’s the one who’d noticed me wanting this light in the first place.
He nods, his jaw clenched.“I’ll just get it out to your car for you, then.”
We walk in silence to the parking lot, and it’s awkward, Ben maneuvering the big box into my trunk, even after I’ve put the back seats down. It’s a minor thing, but to him it’s probably another annoying inconvenience in an already annoying day, and sure I’m pissed at his attitude from before, but maybe I’d been too hasty.
“I forgot to say, I also put some of the bulbs in there that you’ll need. A lot of these old fixtures, you’re going to need to look for things online, but I left you the ones that we used in the display, and some we had in the back.”
I had probably been too hasty.
He’s tucked his hands in his pockets. He’s looking over toward the yard, instead of at me.“I’d better get back in there,” he says.“I need to make sure River heads home soon.”
“Of course,” I say, sounding starchy and weird.“I appreciate your help. I’ll let you know how the light turns out.”
* * * *
Improbably, the day gets worse, because almost as soon as I get home, my phone rings, and it’s my dad calling. The dread I feel at seeing his name on my screen is pretty standard. Since I went to college, I’d learned to expect bad news from my dad’s calls, some new financial catastrophe, or, worse, some new scheme he thought was going to prevent it. But the guilt I feel is pretty new, starting—oh, about six months ago now, when those winning numbers came up.
I take a deep breath before answering, lowering myself to the couch.“Hi, Dad.”
“I have a new address for you,” he says, and—it just strikes this little chord of anxiety I always have tuned somewhere within my body. I feel it shake down all the way to my fingertips, even though the rational part of me knows that my father having to move again doesn’t affect me anymore, doesn’t have to change my life, doesn’t force me to start over.
