She’d never had much of a relationship with Tom’s dad. Tom had never wanted her to.
Tom used to stop by his dad’s house several times a week. He’d bring leftovers. Mow the lawn. Go through the mail. If Cherry was with him, he’d have her wait in the car.“There’s no reason for you to have to deal with him, too,”Tom would say.
“Is he so bad?”
“He’s not so good.”
Cherry walked up the driveway. “Is Tom around?”
His dad shook his head. “She wants to know if Tom’s around... Where else would he be? Oh, I know—Bever-ly Hills.‘Swimming pools,’” he half sang. “‘Movie stars.’”
Cherry nodded, making herself smile.
Tom’s dad was big like Tom. And he was fair like Tom. Heavy. Red-faced. With bushy eyebrows and a scruffy beard. She was pretty sure he was the reason Tom wouldn’t try a beard, even though it might look nice on him.
Cherry couldn’t get up to the house without squeezing past her father-in-law—or walking into the snowy yard and making a big show of avoiding him.
“I guess I’ll have to see that movie of his,” his dad said, standing squarely in front of Cherry. “That’s what they tell me. Even though I’m not in it. I’m not in the comic strips, either. The funny papers, we used to call ’em, you know?”
“That’s right,” Cherry said. “We did.”
She only really knew Tom’s dad from sporadic holidays and birthday visits. She’d sat next to him at their wedding rehearsal. She’d never had a real conversation with him. She wondered if anyone ever did. His dad only seemed to ask rhetorical questions.
“I’m not in any of them,” he said. “I have people who would tell me if I was.”
Cherry nodded.
“But you’re in them,” he said, grinning. Cherry might call it a leer if the very idea wasn’t so upsetting. “Baby, Baby, Baby.”
“I don’t think it’s meant to be a memoir,” she said.
“Ha! She doesn’t think it’s meant to be a memoir! Maybe I should have been drawing little cartoons—instead of working on boilers. Seems like a pretty good grift, huh.”
Cherry smiled. “I wouldn’t call it a grift...”
He took a drink from his mug. “Well, you’re gonna get your share, aren’t you? You put your money on the right horse. Who would have guessed?” He started laughing. “Not me. I thought he was the one who gambled right. I used to tell him,‘Good job, Tommy. That girl will keep the bills paid.’”
“Is Tom inside?” Cherry pointed at the door.
“I don’t really read comic books,” his dad said. “I never have. I tell people that I don’t need the pictures, you know? I don’t need toseeJane run. But people like his stuff. They’re always telling me so. I’ll betyoulike it. He made you famous. Baby, Baby.”
Cherry took a step back.
“‘Baby, baby, baby,’” he sang, “‘where did our love go?’”He laughed and took another drink.
“Cherry?”
Cherry looked up at the house. Tom was standing in the door.
“Yourwife’shere!” Tom’s dad shouted without turning around. “Wasn’t expecting to see her around anytime soon.”
Tom was already walking toward her. Cutting through the snow to avoid his dad. He was wearing his bright white Nikes.
When he got to Cherry, he put his hand on her back and started leading her down the driveway.
“We were just catching up,” his dad called after them.
“Sorry,” Cherry said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
