Page 35 of Pride and Protest
“Is your friend even from here?” Liza asked. Dorsey opened his mouth to speak but was cut off. “You know what? I know he isn’t. But I can’t say no to trash talking overpriced drinks,” she said.
“You’re on.” He smiled back. A breath rushed out of him.Relief?
“Is this your car?” Liza pointed to a moderate sedan. “My brother went to real jail for unpaid parking tickets. How on earth did they let you park right in front of this building?” Liza asked.
“Really, the first bland midsize sedan you see is mine?” He couldn’t keep the slightest offense out of his voice.
“No, the first car illegally parked with no sign of tickets is what I thought was yours.”
Dorsey pulled out his phone again and pressed the screen. Liza turned around in every direction, and Dorsey pointed to his Tesla as it unparallel-parked itself and drove toward them. “That’smy car.”
“Holy shit, tell me there’s a person in there.”
“No, it’s the Summon feature. It’s slow but reliable and pretty handy on a cold day.” When the car arrived, Dorsey pressed another button, and both doors opened up like bat wings. Liza actually clapped like the machine had stood up on its hind legs.
Do cool cars work for women like you?Dorsey kept his face firmly inscrutable. As he slid into the buttery leather seat, he sobered.
She doesn’t think you’re cool, idiot, just your car.
“Navigate to Hotel Washington.” When he saw Liza pulling out her phone, he smiled. “Not you, the car,” he said through laughter.
“I’m not used to the spoils of capitalism. You’ll have to explain your ways.”
“So glad you said that. I think Icanexplain my ways so we can understand each other,” Dorsey said. “I read this article from theNew York Times. They paired people off and asked them a setof thirty-six questions ranging in intimacy, and the people came out...” Dorsey suddenly started stammering.
“In love.” Liza said. “I read that article.”
“Notallof them. I mean...” Her directness made him sputter. “That’s not whatI’mtrying to do. No. The people understood each other better. I think we could try to—I just don’t think I’m your enemy.” His sentences crashed into each other like bumper cars. But he meant it. The only things he consistently felt for her were curiosity, annoyance, and a hearty dose of lust.
“We want the exact opposite things. The only thing wecanbe is enemies. You said yourself that no one can ever screw up around you. And all Idois screw up.” Liza picked at her leggings.
“Even if that’s true, won’t we negotiate better knowing exactly what those things are? Sometimes the stars align, Liza.” He enjoyed saying her name.
“Aligned stars don’t mean aligned goals.”
“What about tonight? Right now, you and I both want a drink. Could we just start there?” Dorsey hated the crack in his voice. It sounded like he needed her. The pleading tone in his voice made it sound like he was lonely.
“Okay. Start your interrogation.” Dorsey hoped she could not hear his sigh of relief. He was glad she had spared him the wattage of her smile.
He pulled up the questions on his phone. “First question: How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?”
“No way is that the first question.”
“It’s the first in my app.”
“There’s an app! The precision of your weirdness is...” Liza laughed, a high, sweet sound, and kissed the tips of her fingers. His eyes watched her soft mouth.
“Your job is not to critique the question-delivery method,” he said.
“Okay, wow. My relationship with my mother is... fraught. There are so many land mines. I could effectively avoid them when I had my own place, but since I got evicted, all I seem to do is set her off.” Liza said the last part facing the window. Something seemed to latch into place for Dorsey. She had been evicted. Liza could not pay rent with the job she had, with a degree—with two degrees. She was personally affected by the lack of affordable housing in her neighborhood.
“Mothers fully understand you when you’re six, then they sometimes forget that they have to keep understanding you,” Dorsey said.
“What about your mom?”
“See, with me, you get a twofer. My relationship with my biological mom is... well... I think I remind her of a time in her life that she can barely stand to remember. She was treated pretty poorly by my biological father. Now she has a new family and wants nothing to do with me.” Dorsey wanted to sound funny and lighthearted. But his delivery tanked. The truth just wasn’t lighthearted.
After his family’s horrific accident, he’d traveled back to Manila on an ill-fated soul-searching trip to find his mother. It had been so simple that he wondered why he hadn’t done it before. He’d found her by some miraculous happenstance. Some part of him wondered if his mother hadn’t been coerced into the adoption. As much as he loved Patricia, he’d heard so many stories of less-than-legal international adoptions. He’d thought maybe when his mother saw him she’d open her arms and exclaim,My son!
