Page 51 of Impossible Love

Dad turns away from the grill, spatula in hand, just long enough to greet us. “Did you enjoy your ride, Victoria?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. For the most part.”

Oh, shit. Dad’s wearing that ridiculous barbecue apron that says: This is a manly apron. For a manly man. Cooking manly food.

“Victoria! I’m so glad you’re here! We have so many snacks!”

Jasmine skips over and grabs Victoria’s hand, pulling her into the fray. My niece has dressed up for the occasion, wearing some kind of pink fairyland creature costume complete with wings and a crown of pink-and-white flowers. I guess she decided not to be completely grown up, after all. At least for tonight.

As Victoria gets dragged to the platters of veggies and crackers and shit that Phyllis has brought to the outside kitchen counter, I get backed into the deck railing.

“What the fuck happened, man?” Finn asks. “You’ve been gone for hours and hours.”

“It was supposed to be a friendly little ride, right?” Declan hands me a beer.

“Maybe it was too friendly.” Special K clinks his beer bottle to mine, which takes some effort since I’m holding it down near my knee. It only makes my baby brother laugh. “We get it, man,” he says. “Riding can sometimes go on for a while, am I right?”

“Only if the rider really knows what she’s doing,” Declan adds.

“Shhh,” Finn says, tipping his head toward Jasmine, who is too busy asking Victoria if she wants to borrow her wings to hear any off-color remarks by her uncles.

“Peeps!” A voice bellows from the house. “Let’s get this party started!”

We watch Phyllis hold open the back door as Evander arrives. Phoebe pushes him out in the wheelchair, his broken limb sticking straight out in front of him, supported by some kind of leg rest.

Evander breaks free from Phoebe and starts doing spins and wheelies in the middle of the deck.

“It’s the painkillers,” Declan says, exasperated. “He finally agreed to take some, and I think they’re working a little too well.”

Special K laughs, pointing at Evander. “You’re driving that thing like the submersible you nearly wrecked off the coast of Ethiopia.”

“‘Nearly’ is the important part,” he says with a nod. “Now you may go, but remember that, grass hopplah.”

“Can I ride? Can I ride?” Jasmine is already bouncing toward him.

Finn tries to intervene, but Evander waves him off. “Ah, c’mon, bro! Don’t clip your daughter’s wings. You gotta let her fly!”

“I just don’t want to see her fly off the deck,” Finn whispers.

A moment later, Jasmine is squealing with delight. She’s thrown her little arms around Evander’s neck as they spin around. At one point he almost crashes into the trays of snacks.

Victoria’s eyes catch mine. She’s smiling and laughing, and those beautiful green eyes of hers sparkle in the overhead party lights. I can’t help but smile at her.

“Holy shit, dude.” Declan is all up in my face. “Anything you want to tell us?”

I glare at him.

“That’s cool.” He steps away. Smart man.

It turns out to be a decent evening. I don’t usually enjoy these things, at least not like this. Tonight is different. Maybe it’s because we’re celebrating that Evander’s home and on the mend. Maybe it’s because it’s the first cookout of the spring.

Or maybe it’s Victoria.

She’s clearly having a good time. I see her laughing as she helps Phyllis and Summer bring out the side dishes of slaw, tomatoes and cucumbers, potato salad, baked beans, macaroni and cheese, and rolls.

I notice her helping Dad keep track of who wants what and how—steaks or burgers? Medium or rare? Cheese? Grilled onions? Both?

It makes me wonder if she does this in San Diego with her own family, which, as far as I know, is just her asshole father. I can’t picture it.

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