It feels like a . . . violation.
I think that’s the right word.
Dad winds through the street
maze, dodging golf carts
and dog walkers. I’m not
sure how he knows where
to turn, but this way, then
that way, finally he pulls
up in front of Grandpa’s.
He’s expecting us. Want
to go ring the bell?
I do.
Grandpa comes to the door.
He’s not alone.
Why is this familiar?
Trace! So great to see you.
Oh. This is my friend Clara.
Clara, this is my grandson.
Seriously? Grandpa has
a girlfriend, too?
I Learn All About Clara
On our drive home.
She and Grandpa met
at the pool four months ago.
They both play golf.
Neither likes shuffleboard.
She’s a “divorcée.”
I guess that means
she and her husband
got divorced. Not that
I need the details.
She has three grown kids—
two daughters and a son—
and seven grandkids.
They all live in Chicago,
where she’s from, but Clara
prefers the Vegas weather,
so they’ll have to come visit her here.
A warm-weather lover.
We have something
in common, says Dad.
Two things, corrects Grandpa.
Don’t forget about me!
Grandpa does most
of the talking, which
is normal. Clara is quiet
but smiles a lot. She’s okay.
Everything’s okay.
Well, mostly.
Everything’s fine.
Kind of.
Everything’s different.
For sure.
What would it take
to make everything
like it was?
If I could go back in time,
stop Will from playing that night,
where would we be today?
Would we live
in our old house,
go to our old school?
Would it be Mom
in the kitchen,
working on dinner?
Or would life
just have thrown us
different curveballs?
There’s Another Surprise
Waiting for me at home.
It greets me at the front door,
holding a ball in its mouth.
“Sylvester!”
My first thought is Sweet!
My second is we’ve never
had a dog in this house,
or any kind of animal.
Does this mean something?
Oh, well. He wants to play,
and I’m game, so we go
out into the backyard.
Mr. Cobb hears us and sticks
his face over the fence.
New dog?
“He belongs to Dad’s friend.
Just visiting.” For now, anyway.
Thought you were coming
over to do some yardwork?
“Oh, man. Sorry. Some
stuff happened. Maybe Sunday?
I have a game tomorrow.”
Did you get hold of a glove?
“Yeah. A teammate had
an extra. I’ll still take care
of your ivy, though.”
It’ll be here when you get
here. Hey, I’d like to watch
you play ball. You pitch, right?
See if you’re as good as Koufax.
I laugh and tell him where
the field is located and
what time to get there.
I toss the ball a few more
times for Sylvester, then
we go inside to enjoy
the magnificent feast
Dad talked about.
He and Lily are in the kitchen,
which smells really, really good.
I think maybe she baked bread
or rolls or something with yeast.
Dad says it will still be fifteen
minutes until we can eat,
and to go watch TV with
Grandpa and Clara.
They’re Tuned In
To one of those entertainment
programs. The kind with more
gossip than information.
It’s a commercial when I sit
down on the chair next to
the sofa where Grandpa
and Clara are sitting,
knee-touching-knee
and holding hands.
It’s weird enough seeing
Dad and Lily acting like
that. But my grandfather?
Yikes!
The show comes back on,
and the announcer says,
And now, in the music world,
there’s a new power couple
coming to a venue near you.
Rumor has it they met at
a Vail ski resort in February.
“Hey, Will!” I yell. “Come here!”
On camera, for everyone
(including me) to see, is my mom.
She’s singing into a microphone.
And so is a guy with super-
long hair. The same microphone.
He looks familiar, but I’m not
sure exactly who he is until
the announcer tells me,
Serene Etienne and Rory Davis
are making beautiful music
together, both on- and offstage.
Rory Davis sings lead for
a hard rock band. Apparently,
he and Mom are a “thing.”
Will wanders in. What?
“Check it out.”
Will turns outrageously red
eyes toward the TV. He sniffs.
Yeah, so?
“Did you know?”
No, but I’m not surprised.
. . . will be on tour together
this summer, continues
the announcer. They plan
both US and European dates.
My Mouth Falls Open
Why didn’t Mom say anything
about him when I talked to her?
If they met in February,
they’ve been together for a while.
Why did she make me believe
we might spend time together?
If they’re planning a huge tour,
that isn’t going to happen.
“I can’t believe it.”
I can, says Will.
What? asks Clara.
Serene is their mother,
explains Grandpa.
“If she ever remembers.”
She doesn’t, says Will.
Not for a long, long time.
He turns on one heel,
goes back to his bedroom.
Just as Dad calls us to dinner.
I’ve Lost My Appetite
Not even the fresh-from-the-oven
homemade bread, roasted pernil
(roast pork) with adobo, or sweet plantains
leaking delicious-smelling steam
in the middle of the table can fix that.
Will doesn’t want to leave his room
but Dad
insists. He and I sit silently
while everyone else passes plates
and chatters about how good Lily’s
first attempt at Puerto Rican food
(Dad’s favorite!) is. I feel as low
as Will looks. But there’s something
else about him. Something off.
And I don’t think it has anything
to do with Mom and Rory Davis.
It’s like he doesn’t dare look anyone
in the eye. Shoulders hunched over,
he stares down at his empty plate.
What’s with all the doom
and gloom? asks Dad.
I say nothing.
Will says nothing.
Clara says nothing.
Finally, Grandpa says,
way too calmly, Serene
was on the television.
I Jump In
“Yeah! She’s going on
an extended tour.
With her new boyfriend
and his stupid band.
“This summer. After she leaves
Tahoe. When she told me
she’d try to come visit!”
Whoa, says Dad. Take it easy.
I never heard anything about
a possible summer visit.
That’s because he made it all
up in his head, argues Will.
“Nuh-uh. She totally did!
Also that we might go see
She hasn’t mentioned it
to me, says Dad. When did
you talk to her about it?
“A few days ago.”
You must’ve called her.
Duh, says Will.
“Who cares?”
Does it really matter who
called who? Lily interrupts.
I’m sorry if your mom
disappointed you, Trace.
I’m sure she’ll make it up to you.
I wouldn’t count on it,
says Will. Not her thing.
Please pass the bread,
requests Grandpa.
Dad clears his throat. I wish
you boys would eat. Lily
worked extremely hard
preparing this meal.
I take a piece of bread
when it passes by me.
Stuff a huge bite in my mouth.
Chew. Chew. Chew. Swallow.
“This is good, Lily.”
Maybe I’m a little hungry
after all. I ask for some pernil
and plantains, too.
Why not? Maybe food
can take the edge off.
I don’t want to hurt.
Will Pretends to Pick
At a few bites, too.
Clara and Lily eat
like polite ladies—slowly,
chewing every mouthful
a whole lot of times.
Dad and Grandpa chow down.
Not, like, gross. But at
a steady pace. And they
both ask for seconds.
But while Dad eats, he keeps
an eye on Will and me,
like he’s waiting for stuff
to blow up again, not
that I blame him.
Finally, he asks Lily,
Should we share our
surprise with the boys?
I think we should.
You tell them.
We haven’t had a real
vacation in a long time.
Lily has a lot of contacts,
and she managed to set us
up with an amazing trip. . . .
No Way!
I can’t believe it!
After school gets out
for summer, we’re rafting
the Colorado River down
through the Grand Canyon.
Well, we won’t do the whole
length. Instead, we’ll fly in a small
plane to this ranch where
we can ride horses and ATVs.
Then we’ll helicopter to a place
closer to Vegas and get on
a raft for two whole days,
camping along the way.
“Seriously, Dad?”
Would I kid you about
something like that?
I want to go! says Grandpa.
We can probably arrange
it, says Lily. But we’d have
to do it right away. It’s one
of the most popular trips.
People come from all over
the world to enjoy it.
Lukewarm
That’s what I’d call
Will’s reaction.
His eyes don’t even lift
off his plate while Lily
gives all the exciting details.
Look at all the rides we get:
Small plane.
Helicopter.
Horseback.
ATV.
And that’s all before
we even strap into the big
raft for whitewater running
and slow-water floating.
I mean, come on!
Grandpa and Clara are excited.
Dad and Lily are excited.
I can barely hold my excitement
inside. How can I wait until June?
But Will just sits there until
finally he opens his mouth.
Aren’t there any, like,
age requirements?
Minimum age of eight.
The rafts are powered,
so no one has to paddle.
No maximum age cutoff,
I hope, says Grandpa.
No, not as long as you’re
in good health. I think
Anyway, even if there was,
you two aren’t all that old.
Grandpa’s in his sixties.
That’s pretty darn old.
But he’s still in decent shape.
And I guess Clara looks okay, too.
Still, I tease, “You better go
to the gym, Grandpa.
Get buffed. You’ve got time.”
Oof. I shouldn’t have to point
this out, young man, but I go
to the gym on the regular.
He pumps his arm muscles,
and I have to admit a lot
of people would admire his biceps.
Especially old people.
“Okay, Gramps. Guess you
can come along.”
Everyone looks happy.
Except Will.
After Dessert
Which is made-from-scratch
tres leches cake with vanilla ice cream,
the chef (that would be Lily) volunteers
to drive Grandpa and Clara home.
Sylvester will take the front
seat, of course. But only if
you two promise to be good
in the back, she jokes.
Define “good,” answers
Grandpa, and now I wonder
why we haven’t had him over
more. He’s the kind of funny
our family needs. So is Lily.
As for Sylvester, he’s been
super good the whole time.
No fur anywhere.
No mess on the carpet.
No barking at inappropriate times.
Thinking I need to ask Dad
for a dog agai
n. Sylvester
can be his role model.
Do dogs even have those?
As soon as they’re gone,
Will (who didn’t even try
the tres leches, and I don’t think
noticed the dog) stands up
wordlessly and hits his room.
I help Dad finish cleaning
up the kitchen. My brain
is churning so many questions
and ideas, I don’t know
where to start with them.
But two things weigh
more than the others.
“Hey, Dad. Why didn’t Mom
tell me about Rory Davis
when I talked to her?”
He sighs. I can’t say for sure,
but I think maybe she didn’t
want to hurt you. Sort of like
when I first started seeing Lily.
“I told her about you and Lily.”
You did? What did she say?
“That it’s good you found
someone special and that
nobody wants to be alone.”
Well, she’s mostly right about
that. I’ve met a few content
loners in my day, but not many.
That Makes Me Think
When we moved across town
and I started Rainbow Ridge,
the only reason I had friends
was because of Little League.
But there are a couple of kids
at school who are always
alone, and they never
look happy. It must be hard
not to have any friends.
And what about Mr. Cobb?
No wonder he’s always
peeking over the fence
when he hears us outside.
Right after we came here,
I thought he was annoying.
Sometimes I still think he is.
But if I take the time to listen
to his stories, they can be
interesting, like the one
he told me a few days ago.
“Hey, Dad. Did you know
Mr. Cobb was in the army
and fought in Vietnam?”
Really? No, I didn’t know
about that. But where did
the question come from?
“I was thinking about loners,
since you mentioned them.
Do you supposed he was
ever married? Or has kids?”
I couldn’t say. Maybe you
should ask him sometime.
Maybe I should.
Maybe on Sunday.
While I weed his ivy.
But now someone else
crosses my mind.
“Hey, Dad. What about Will?”