He should probably lock the car but he forgets. All he can think about is Lucy, her body, her low laughter.
(He actually loves her.)
(He actually does.)
(He knows it.)
If she wanted to get married, have a baby, seriously, he would say yes. Probably not legal, but whatever. She doesn’t want that, doesn’t seem to want much, actually. He just shows up when he can, and if she’s home, they’re good. She is often not home, and does not answer his texts.
(It bothers him; he loves it.)
But now Lucy answers his knock. She’s wearing sweats and a Willie Nelson T-shirt. “Hey,” she says, reaching her hand out and putting a finger through his belt loop.
“Hey,” says Robert. He is immediately ready.
“Want some popcorn?” she says, pulling him toward her.
“No,” he manages, pressing her to him,my God, my God.
Afterward, he says, “I love you.”
She rolls away from him. “You don’t,” she says.
He wishes, when she is gone, that he had insisted.
-3-
Charlie
CHARLIE IS SITTING ACROSSfrom his father at Kerbey Lane Cafe. His mom once told him that she worked here while she was pregnant with him. So far, Patrick (“Call me Dad!”) seems OK enough. Definitely on something, jittery and shifty-eyed, and maybe that was why his mom left? Has his dad been a druggie forfifteen years?
“So,” says Charlie, after they have ordered pancakes.
“Call me Dad,” repeats Patrick. His face has a lot of lines, running out from his bright eyes and across his forehead. Charlie stares at him and tries to understand his mother. “By the way,” says Patrick, sliding a business card across the table. “This is your aunt Darla. She asked me to give this to you. She said to call her if you ever need anything.” Charlie looks down at the card:DARLA KING, MASS. BAIL ENFORCEMENT.
“What?” he says. His mother has a sister?
“Not much of a market for bounty hunters anymore,” said Patrick. “She also sells essential oils.”
“Thanks,” says Charlie. He feels bewildered as he imagines a whole family tree opening its branches above him, unfurlingits roots below. Patrick begins drumming his fingers on the table, looking around the restaurant but not at Charlie.
“Um, so is there anything you want to know about me?” says Charlie.
“She never told me where she was,” says Patrick. “I told myself…I didn’t let myself think about you.”
“I guess my mom didn’t…”
“No,” says Patrick. “She didn’t. She left and there was no way to find her.”
“Did you even try?” says Charlie, knowing he’s fishing for something but unable to stop himself. “Did you try to find us?”
“Of course I did!” says Patrick. But instead of elaborating, he holds up his coffee cup and taps it with his fork. A waitress turns and gives him a withering look, which he either doesn’t see or ignores. He mouthsMore coffee?
“Be right with you,sir,” says the waitress.
“How did you try to find me?” says Charlie.
Patrick looks at him blankly. “I’m going to run to the men’s,” he says, standing up.
