Page 98 of Lies and Lullabies
“Not a chance.”
“What?” I asked, exasperated.
My father grinned. “You know when kids learn a new word, and then they want to use it all the time? You named one of your dolls Cutlass when Mrs. Wetzle got a new Oldsmobile.”
Jonas let out a bark of laughter, and my face flushed. “Did Vivi name the horse after a car? Because Subaru isn’t so bad.”
Jonas and my father laughed again. It was as if the entire world was in on the joke, except for me. If I weren’t so baffled, I might be annoyed.
“She called it…” Jonas broke off laughing.
“The horse is…” My father threw his head back on a snort.
“Testicle!”they both said, and then howled with laughter again.
I groaned. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Nope. Sorry,” Jonas said, wiping his eyes.
“He’s the genius who taught her how tospellit,” my dad gasped.
“Nooooo.” I giggled. Their giddiness was getting to me, too, and there was an edge of hysteria in my laughter. My stomach shook, and I had to lean over and brace my face in my hands.
Still laughing, Jonas put one warm hand on my lower back. “Yeah, I didn’t see that coming. I suggested lots of horsier names. Spot. Brownie. Blaze. But she wouldn’t go for any of them.”
“Figures.” I chuckled. But really, after all that had happened, a horse called Testicle wasn’t really so bad.
“Did you eat?” Jonas asked.
“No,” I admitted.
“I saved you some chicken saagwala and rice.”
“That sounds great,” I said, popping up off the sofa again.
Jonas rose, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Sit. I’ll get it.” He walked out of the room toward the kitchen, as if he’d been here for years.
“Well,” my father said.
“Well,” I repeated.
“It was quite a shock to hear Vivi say, ‘This is my daddy.’” My father pressed his lips together, as if a thousand other words might come pouring out if he didn’t.
“I’ll bet it was.” I wouldn’t apologize, though. When I’d first told my father I was pregnant, he’d actually threatened to kill whomever was responsible. The scene had played out like a bad movie. In the hit parade of guilt that I’d carried these past few years, keeping the details from my father didn’t even make the Billboard Top 100.
He sighed. “She looks just like him, doesn’t she?”
“Sure does.” I fiddled with the piping on the edge of the sofa cushion. “He’s going to be around some. He wants to spend time with her.”
At that, my father actually smiled. “And with you, I think.”
My face got red, but I didn’t say a word. Whatever I decided, it was none of his business. Although it was hard to know how to handle this version of my father—the one who drove down from Maine to see his children. The one who wanted details.
“I do worry about all of you,” he said quietly.
“I see that,” I whispered. “But you aren’t always nice about it.”
He shifted in his chair. “I’ve always been ten steps behind you two. It’s terrifying. It’s the same way I felt with your mother. I’ve spent the last ten years terrified that you’d also disappear on me for good.”
