Page 91 of You Spin Me

“I feel like this is a big deal now.”

“It’s not, really; I—”

Before she can finish, the door opens and a woman who can only be Jessica’s mother greets us with a smile. “I was wondering why the dogs were barking. What are you two doing standing around out here?”

And then it’s a whirlwind of introductions and taking coats. I’m glad to get rid of mine because I’m overheating fast. I rarely take off my hoodie with people I don’t know, but something has me going for it. Her sister’s gaze is the first to flick over the scars. I remember Jess said that she’s a doctor of some sort, and I recognize the quick, professional rearrangement of features. Doctors and nurses who work with burn victims don’t even flinch when they see someone like me, but on the rare occasion that I see a regular doctor, it usually takes some effort for him or her to hide the shock and concern.

She knows something about burn survivors, though, because she immediately turns to a thermostat on the wall and turns down the heat.

Jess pulls me further into the house, where I’m offered coffee and peppered with questions about my job.

“And are you responsible for Jess getting all this new radio work?” Mrs. Abraham reaches out to touch my arm to get my attention, but quickly folds her hands together instead.

“Not on purpose. Maybe by accident.”

Jess, deep in conversation with her father, is obviously a daddy’s girl. He’s barely spoken to me. I don’t think it’s because of the scars, though. It’s that instinctive thing fathers have, like if we were cavemen, he’d be challenging me to a fight. Jess is completely at ease, though, like she knows that in his eyes she can do no wrong.

“We were concerned when she quit teaching,” her mom continues. “It’s good to have some sort of regular paycheck.”

I laugh. “Since I’ve made more mistakes since meeting Jess than I have in the past ten years at the station, I might be the one looking for a job soon.”

“Oh, dear.”

“I’m kidding. Though she is a bit”—I jut my chin in Jess’s direction as she makes a dramatic gesture with her hands—“distracting.”

Mrs. Abraham raises an eyebrow, exactly the way Jess does when she’s amused.

“That’s how she got called in to the station in the first place,” I explain. “We were talking on the phone and I pushed the wrong button and our conversation played on air instead of the song on the turntable. I didn’t even notice.”

Before Mrs. Abraham can respond, the dogs start barking again. “Oh, the girls must be here—my grandchildren. They had Sunday school,” she explains.

Two tiny females barrel down the hall and go straight for Jess, practically tackling her with demands for her attention.

When one of them turns and sees me, she emits a bloodcurdling scream.

Jess’s sister steps between me and the girl and grasps her by the shoulders. “Tamara! Stop it.”

The girl buries her face in her mom’s ample chest for a few moments, but then curiosity seems to win out over terror.

As she peeks at me over Esther’s shoulder, I get down to her level to whisper, “It’s okay. Sometimes I scream like that when I look in the mirror.”

Both girls giggle. Esther’s hands go to her hips. Her face is flushed with embarrassment. “Stop that, Tamara. Apologize to Mr. Alonso. Now.”

The girl’s lower lip sticks out in a pout. “I’m sorry.”

I nod. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Esther clamps her lips into a line, like she doesn’t want to let her off the hook.

I wave a hand through the air. “How about we have a do-over?” Everyone stares at me like I’m crazy. “Come on. Let’s do it over. This time you won’t be surprised by the weird-looking guy, and you can say hi like it’s all normal.”

Tamara narrows her eyes at me momentarily like she’s not sure I’m serious, but then lifts her chin. “Okay.”

After running back to the front door, she recreates her entrance right up to the moment when she noticed me. This time, instead of screaming she says, “Hi, Aunt Jess’s friend. Who are you? I’m Tamara, but you can call me Tami.”

Then she marches up to me and holds out her hand, which I shake.

“Very nice to meet you, Tami. I’m Callihan Alonso, but everybody calls me Cal. And who did you bring with you?”

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