“So what would be the best—”
“I’ll catch up with you soon, just under some tight deadlines right now. Thanks so much,” I said, and gently closed the door as Elliot started talking again.
I stood with one hand pressed to the wood until the sound of Elliot’s footsteps faded and his car started. When I turned around, Dad was standing on the border of the living room and kitchen chewing back a smile.
“You dirty old bastard,” I said, and Dad put his hands on his knees and bellowed laughter. “Threw me to the wolves.”
He couldn’t speak for a while. He leaned against the doorway to keep himself upright. Between gasps he said, “Teach you . . . to . . . oversleep . . . on my . . . birthday.” Then he couldn’t talk again. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as well.
“It’s not funny,” I said, which made him laugh harder. “He’s gonna be stuck to me like a goddamned barnacle now.”
“Godblessed barnacle,” Dad said, and sunk down to the floor, waving his hand. No more, no more. I stepped over him on my way to the kitchen, giving his leg a half-hearted kick on the way by.
“Happy fucking birthday,” I said, starting to gather sandwiches for lunch.
“Don’t, I’m gonna piss my pants.”
“Good. Serves you right. I’m going to tell him you’re my agent.”
By the time I had the sandwiches fixed, Dad had mostly regained control of himself, though every so often he would hiccup a laugh and shake his head.
As we sat down to eat, I said, “Glad to be a source of amusement. Anything else I can get for your birthday?”
“Nope, that’s the gift that keeps on giving.”
“And here I was feeling sorry I’d overslept.”
“You’re forgiven.” We ate in silence for a bit. “Out late last night?”
I cleared my throat. “Were you up?”
“Couldn’t sleep again.”
I changed the subject. Maybe I didn’t want to worry him with what had happened the night before. Maybe I didn’t want to worry myself. I could hear a second hand ticking away, had begun hearing it sometime in the last forty-eight hours. It was for Rachel and Asher and little Joey, who had anxiety like his mother. It was for me, too, because I still felt responsible. I’d made myself responsible by starting down this road. The ticking clock was for me because if I wasn’t able to find them, I’d never forgive myself.
I started laying out the afternoon and evening’s plans. Dad was thrilled about Kel and the girls coming by and about the ribs I was planning for dinner. It was a beautiful day outside, warm but not hot. Sunny but not blinding. A real good day to get a year older, Dad said.
I couldn’t argue that.
We went shopping, and even though I shouldn’t have, I pulled out all the stops. Bought fresh ribs from the meat counter instead of the ones shrink-wrapped in plastic. Bought the fixings for potato salad and a package of cheese sticks rolled up in thin slices of prosciutto. We stopped at the liquor store, and I splurged for a bottle of Dad’s favorite bourbon.
We got home midafternoon, and I prepared the ribs with apple cider and rub while Dad poured us a couple of splashes of the good stuff. He chopped potatoes and onions, and I thawed meat for the girls’ burgers.
We talked about the time he and Mom took us across the country to see the redwoods. How Mom had gotten food poisoning along the way and we’d had to stay in a shitty motor court for an extra two days. The place’s pool only had an inch of water in it, and the cable didn’t come in clearly on the TV. We ended up playing with the owner’s dog for hours, chasing this big greyhound around and around the empty parking lot while semis whistled by on the highway and Dad sat in the shade, sipping a beer and urging us on. It hadn’t seemed like a ton of fun at the time, but I couldn’t help smiling now.
It’s funny the things you remember and what you forget. All of it’s important, every last second.
Kel and the girls arrived an hour or so later just as I was laying the ribs on the grill. Alicia and Emmy had made cards for Dad as well as a photo album of their year at school. I wondered if Kel had nudged them regarding the type of present. Wondered if she was thinking about the coming months and years when he might have to consult some of the pictures to recall a certain day or year when something happened. Kel caught me out by the grill, and I told her it had smoked up a minute ago as I wiped my eyes.
We all drank a little too much before dinner. That was okay. There were no more tears. Lots of laughs, and the girls decided to run through the sprinkler. After a while so did Dad.