For my Dad, Stepdad, and most importantly my Grandfather. Happy Father's Day! To quote my Grandfather, "Every day is Father's Day."
I woke up to the sound of a dog barking. Loud annoying barking that wouldn’t quit. Actually it was a car horn. Frank’s car horn. Loud annoying honking that he wouldn’t quit. But I must have woken up psychic this morning because when I looked out my window, I saw Frank sitting in Sally with the top down.
“What the hell is he doing in my car?!” That was the first thing that came to mind. It was also the first thing out of my mouth, this lovely morning. Sarcasm.
But then I remembered that he borrowed it for a few days. It was early. Though, seeing Sally again, “usurped” is the word I’d rather use. To his credit, Sally looked like she just took a bath in a fountain of youth. Armor All-ed and sparkling blue. But the stereo was blaring jazz music. Blaring horns that Frank was honking along to. There was also something hanging from my mirror. I prayed that it wasn’t a rosary. He mentioned finding god in his letter. Please god, do not bless this car!
Then there was the round yellow-topped canister in my cup holder. Lemon air freshener. The man is dead to me.
Then the psychic thing hit me. In the back seat was this hairy thing that I thought was a coat at first. Frank’s new fashion overhaul infecting my car. But then I saw that he was wearing jeans. And the same flippy floppies on his feet, shielding my clutch and brake pedals from his oily can-tan residue, that he wore the last time we went out to dinner. And a t-shirt with writing across the chest.
Now, I don’t have anything against old people trying to look young. By all means. And Frank isn’t that old. Just old enough for a half-life upheaval. I just think there’s a way to do it appropriately. Lloyd Center
Anyway, the thing in my back seat? It started moving around. Not a coat. It was a dog! Lean and white and spotted all over. I loved him at first sight. Well I didn’t know it was a him, but he looked like a him. He just looked like a man. Because he was rolling around the back of Sally like there was a fire in his ass. Like I said. He looked like a man.
I put on a pair of holey jeans. Holey not holy. Though they weren’t unholy either. Can you smell a little lack of faith in my perfume? Actually it’s not that I don’t believe. I just need more proof. And I have faith. I had a lot when I was younger. One less abortion younger. But faith isn’t bottomless. You have to conserve. Ration. I’m around half-tank now. And with a boyfriend who’s openly cheating on me, my job, which I’m trying not to hate, my ex-prodigal father back in my vida “je ne sais quoi”, and then there’s Nick. And… Chloe.
I just need to ration my faith carefully until I have more proof that the big guy up there is—well, actually is. Do you believe in god? That’s not a fair question. Let me get back to getting dressed.
I slipped on a shirt with writing across the chest. This red ropey (RED) bracelet from years ago. And flippy floppies! It’s Father’s Day. Good enough excuse to match. I looked out the window to see what kind of sunglasses he was wearing. Aviators. The psychic thing hit me again. Last night before I went to bed, I put my aviators on top of my sketchbook so I wouldn’t forget them today. Spooky, huh? I put them on, grabbed my sketchbook then headed out.
When I got out to the car, Frank was out on the sidewalk with the beast. Actually, he was really gentle and well trained. The dog. I guess he just had to pee. Fortunately, Frank let him out of Sally before he was rolling around the back seat in his piss. On Sally’s leather interior.
“Who’s?”
“Mine! Well, ours really. A present for myself and my daughter on my day!”
“This isn’t just your day, dad.”
“Oh, well I forgot to invite any other dads to our party so—it’s my day.” Frank gave me a look over his Aviators. It said, ‘let me win this one, or I’ll spank you over my knee, old school.” I dropped it.
“Who?” He may have been gone a long time. But we can still understand each other’s languages. Family. You can’t forget them.
“No name yet. You’re gonna have to help me.”
“Dalmatian.”
“Yes mam! I had a Dalmatian growing up. Gorgeous. We fed him too much though. He got fat.” Frank made a sour face. He never told me he had a dog growing up.
“You never told me you had a dog growing up.”
“I know. That’s the point of today. I’m gonna tell you everything. We have just under 16 hours so...”
“Please.”
“I’m just kidding you, princess. We have years and years and years for that. So starting today I’m gonna read to you from my childhood diary, a day for each day. Did I tell you I used to write? Novels!”
“Frank!”
“Ok, Ok. Easy there!” He laughed. Naturally. This was not Lloyd Center Frank. Thank god. Or thank the gods.
“So where to, dad?” I said all excited. I really was excited too.
“Coffee. Then everywhere!”
“Coffee then everywhere!” Aside from the jazz and the car horn, this was a great way to wake up.
We piled into Sally, I took the wheel, and were in fifth gear in no time.
I started doodling that morning, between the Thursday Tattoo and lunch in Chinatown . I haven’t drawn anything since the abortion. Writer’s block doesn’t happen when you have nothing. Really, you have too much and it all gets crammed. Bottlenecked. You have to just pick something and pull it out to get things flowing again. You have to pull your finger out of the dam.
That morning, things were brimming. Heavy. Bloated. So I pulled my finger out and wrapped it around a pencil. I doodled a bit. Roses in the margins of my planner. Roses all around Nick’s planner. Just to get the feeling back.
Then the sketchbook. I didn’t know where to start, so I started where I left off. I tore a page out a long time ago. I still remember what was on it. That’s where I started.
Actually, I tried some still-life first. Apples in a bowl variety. It was awful. The drawings came out Ok, but it was so passionless. I tore out a lot of pages.
Then I went back to that day. What was on the page I tore out. I drew that moment. Me ripping out the page. It was a little weird. I haven’t drawn anybody in a long time and I kept having to look in the mirror and subtracting a few years. But in the end, it got me started again.
We went into this coffee shop downtown and it had a little too much character for my taste. So we walked over to the Seattle Seattle
We piled up a stack of books and sat down with our coffees.
“What’s that?” I noticed one of the books didn’t have a dog on the cover.“Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet. Recommended to me.” He lifted up the book to me. It looked like a love story. It sounded like one. It was. There were two people standing by the water. You couldn’t see them because they had umbrellas over their shoulders covering their top halves. But you can tell one was a man and the other was a woman by the designs on the umbrellas. Plus, the font screamed love story.
“What’s that?” I was about to ask Frank about the book—the recommender, but he’s a quick one. He was looking at my sketchbook. He knew what it was.
“I started again.” I opened it and went through the pages. Everything after the first one—the one of that day. Frank looked happier and happier after each page.
“I’m glad.” He said after the last drawing. I closed the book immediately.
I’m glad?! Well that’s a fucking relief! PHEW! The man—one of the men—responsible for me putting the pencil away in the first place, is GLAD that I’ve picked it up again! Years later!
I wanted to whack him on the side of the head with the sketchbook, but… it is his day. Besides, if I knocked him out, he wouldn’t have been able to answer my question.
“Dad?”
“Yes, hunny bunny?”
“Ugh. Dad?” Almost whacked him that time.
“Yes, Audrey?” He was giggling. Oh my dad…
“Are you pregnant, dad?” Now he was laughing. Naturally. But too loud.
“Three pee-sticks say I am! You’re finally gonna get that baby brother or sister you always wanted!” Really, too loud.
“Shh!”
“Oh, princess. No, I’m not pregnant. I know this is your way of asking me if I dating again and yes, I’m seeing someone. She’s not pregnant either. I don’t think so. Not yet.” He brought his volume back down to Seattle Plot-twist Boulevard
“You want babies with her?” I was breaking my own volume rule.
“I don’t know. It was a joke. But I do like her a lot.”
“Who?”
“No one you know.” He crossed his arms. Why do guys always do that when they get defensive? It’s not tactically intelligent. Their arms are tangled in each other. Defenseless. It makes it that much easier.
“How long?”
“A few months.” And we were right back on Plot-twist Boulevard
“Oh, so that’s why you came back to Portland
“I don’t think you used that right—”
“I don’t think I heard you right, just now.”
“Ok, sorry. But you’re wrong. With the expression and with the first thing.”
“You need to prove me wrong then.” The Aviators were off. I gripped my sketchbook, ready to whack.
“She’s my lawyer. Was my lawyer. I fired her a few months ago. Anyway, when I moved back here, I brought her with me. So you’re wrong. This isn’t about killing two birds with one stone. Just you. Just the one stone in here.” He rubbed his chest.
It was sweet. Not the killing me with one stone. But the fact that there was only me. And only one stone. I let go of the book. He escaped another whacking.
“Do you love her?”
“If that’s you’re way of apologizing then yes, I forgive you. But you gotta have more faith in me, princess.” Break out the rations.
“I do—now I do. And I am. Just no more talk about your sex life.”
“Ok. Yes.”
“Yes?”
“I love her.” Right then I wondered about the stone. How big it is. Is there room for both of us to stand on? That’s also when Frank took my psychic power away.
“I love you more, princess. You got the whole thing. But I’m old and lonely. Do you mind sharing?” Oh my dad…
“Only if you say it again.”
“I love you more.”
“Sharing is caring...”
“You used that one right!” A natural laugh.
We got back to Sally, back to the dog, and sat on her hood wondering what to do next.
“Spots!” I was kidding.
“You’re kidding.” I was. He didn’t laugh.
“Lucky?”
“Too common.”
“Rocky?”
“Too punchy.” He laughed at his own bad joke. I laughed a little too. A little.
“Stripes?”
“Too funny. How about Principessa Esmerelda?” He remembered! Almost.
“Dad, he’s a boy!”
“Really? Oh that’s why you said Rocky…” He was kidding. I didn’t laugh.
“How do you know, dad?”
“Well you gotta look at the undercarriage. See if there’s anything hanging.” I gave him a look over my Aviators.
“No, I mean your lawyer.”
“Oh. You gotta be more direct, princess. My Audrey-ish is still pretty rusty.”
“Sorry. But how do you know?”
“Honestly,” he sighed with his breath, “I don’t think I can give you a useful answer. You just feel it one day. Or maybe over a couple of days. Like a cold. You feel it coming on and getting stronger. Then one day you’ve had it for a while and you don’t remember what it’s like not to have a cold. You sound different. Smell things different. Breathe different. Even your body isn’t the same anymore. It’s like that, except it’s much nicer than a cold.” He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. Oh Dad…
“That was pretty useful, Dad. You should have more faith in yourself.”
“Thanks, Audrey.”
“Doesn’t he have a name?”
“He’s had a bunch of names. He’s bounced around a lot, I think. He deserves a permanent home with a permanent moniker. Don’t you, buddy?” I think the dog understood us because it rested it’s head on Dad’s knees and waited to be pet.
“How about Frankie?” As soon as I said it, Dad’s lips flattened out and his face looked like it folded into itself.
“That’s my name! You’d get confused.”
“No. He’s Frankie. You’re Dad.” I think I saw the stone melt. Because his face melted back to its original form and his shoulders relaxed into spaghetti. He smiled. Not a Lloyd Center
“Frankie it is!”
We ended up at Waterfront Park
“What’s her name?” I realized it was overdue. I’m a quick study.“Eliza. Liza.” He said it with a half-smile. Mushy.
“Pretty?”
“Pretty pretty. Beautiful. And only a few years younger than me.” He seemed proud of that.
“So you’re not completely mid-life crisis.”
“Nope. But I have been eyeing this yellow Camaro at the Chevy dealer near the house in Beaverton
“You moved back in?”
“Yeah. It’s my house. Your house. And the apartment wasn’t big enough for both our wardrobes. Liza has a million bags. Literally.”
“I like her. Maybe I can come over and borrow?”
“Hah. Doubt that! Nah, she’s pretty down to earth.”
“And you love her.” He didn’t reply. Just a half-smiley nod.
“So, yellow?” Why do old guys like such bright colored cars? And yellow seems to be the craze.
“Yellow.”
“Convertible?”
“Nope.”
“So you’re not completely mid-life crisis.” Relief. Really, if he were he’d be driving a sports car right out of the showroom with the top down so he could show off his model skinny model pretty girlfriend who’s about my age and probably went to the same college.
“No, princess. I think I’ve actually grown up a bit. How about you? How’s quarter-life?” Here we go. I put down the sketchbook.
“My boyfriend is cheating on me with his two secretaries, one of them is married. My best friend is in love with me even though he has a girlfriend who happens to be Portland
“Crisis!” He laughed.
“Crisis.”
“You want a Camaro?”
“No thanks, Dad.”
“Just tell me if you do.” This was nice. This was natural. My dad was my dad. Finally.
“So, any comments? Any parental concern?” Anything you want to say about the Weatherbabe?
“Oh, I’m always worried about you, princess.”
“I know. But, I just thought that maybe you’d say something about—”
“The girl?”
“The girl.”
“What is there to say? You either are or you’re experimenting. Or you’re in-between like Liza’s younger brother. He gets a lot of action! I mean anyone would when their market is the whole market.”
“Dad.”
“What I’m trying to say is. You could be a hippie and I’d still love you.” Wow.
“Because I’m your daughter?”
“Oh, that’s just a coincidence. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. And that was such a crazy time and people were running around. Your mother was screaming and calling me every foul name under the sun. Seeing you, it was like we were in a bubble. Just me and this tiny girl that I loved so much. Instantly. It took a minute to realize I just became a father.” Again. Wow…
I wanted to ask him all those things that people ask in movies. Where were you all this time? Why didn’t you say theses things to me when I was younger? Where was my dad when I needed him? And that day…
But this was still his day. And we have years and years for all that.
“How do you do it dad? How do you make your relationships work?”
He gave me a confused look then laughed like he just heard a bad joke.
“Really! I mean mom died when I was born but from what you’ve told me you guys had a wonderful marriage. And I can only assume that you and Liza are going great too. Me on the other hand. Crisis!”
“You’re young, princess. Don’t worry.” Does every parent say this? Is it in their handbook? Their Child Manual?
“You were young with mom too!”
“Yeah, but it was hard. It’s always hard. We loved each other. But she was a little off.” What?
“What?”
“She was pretty broken up when I met her. She never really healed. All the way up to her death. But we loved each other. It’s just, there’s more to it than that.” I felt a song coming on. I was right.
“Sometimes love just ain’t enough.” He recited proudly.
“That’s a song.”
“Yes mam.”
“A sappy love song from a sappy love movie.”
“I think you’re right.”
“You only listen to jazz. The loud horny jazz.”
“Um, there are horns, yes. But I’m a sucker for all those 80’s and 90’s ballads.” What?
“What?”
“Yeah. And that song is one of my favorites. Patty Smyth and Don Henley! C’mon!”
“How is this song an answer though? This isn’t a movie.” This isn’t.
“Oh, princess. Where do you think these stories come from? These songs?”
“Clichés.”
“Clichés, yes, but there’s a reason why clichés are undying. Why they outlast everything. Think about it.” Hmm.
“Listen, princess.” And then he sang to me.
“There’s a danger in loving somebody too much. And it’s sad when you know it’s your heart you can’t trust. There’s a reason why people don’t stay who they are. Because sometimes love just ain’t enough…” He was pretty good too. I clapped. Really.
“Do you love him?” Henry.
“Yes. But he’s cheating. And I’m cheating. And I love Nick too.”
“Right. But if you just heard me. Love ain’t enough. There’s more. Trust, Faith, Loyalty, Caring.”
“But that’s all part of love, isn’t it?” Isn’t it?
“Absolutely not. Love is love. It’s on that list.”
“But then what is it?”
“Where?”
“What?”
“Where is it? That’s the real question. Everyone knows what it is. You know. The cold, remember? People get confused and that’s when they lose it. They can’t find it. The question, princess, is where?” He was sounding cocky, like a professor. I was walking into a trap; a dad lecture.
“Where is it?” Here we go.
“Look down.” I looked down.
“If your jeans are north and your chin is south and your belly button is where we stand. It’s South by SouthWest.” Where my heart is. Oh my dad…
“It’s in my heart? Thanks, Dad! I understand now!” Sarcasm. But he laughed anyway.
“It’s a mnemonic, Audrey. A memory trick. S. S. W.” Thanks, Professor Carlisle.
“And they stand for?”
“How to find love. How to keep it.”
“This sounds interesting.” Really.
“Work. It takes a lot of work. That list? That’s all work. It doesn’t come automatic with it. You gotta work on those. You gotta develop them and grow them like plants. Just because you love someone, doesn’t mean you trust them. And you don’t trust them because you love them. They have to earn it and you likewise. Same goes for the rest of the list.” Who knew dads could be dads?
“This is making sense. It’s scary. What’s next?”
“Schedule.”
“Schedule.” And he lost me.
“When you’re with someone, you end up trading a lot of things for them.”
“Time.”
“Yeah. The life you had before them, friends, school, work, hobbies, they all become what you do when you’re not with them. And all you want to do is be with them. So?”
“You don’t do them anymore.”
“Or they don’t make you happy like they used to. Before you fell in love. The problem is that you miss those things after a while. When things settle down and you can start thinking clearly again. When you get used to having that cold.”
“I see.” Really.
“You gotta schedule those things in at the start. Before you can miss them. Keep them in your life so they don’t fall out of it. Because some things don’t come back. And you don’t wanna have nothing to turn to when you find out that you need more than just the one person.”
“Hard work.”
“Exactly.” Exactly.
“I never knew.”
“You did. Everyone does. They just forget. The cold gives them headaches, makes them woozy.”
“I mean I never knew this was all inside you.” I pointed to the stone.
“We have years and years for all that, princess.”
“We do.”
“What’s the last S for?” He smiled.
”This is the easiest one. And the one people forget first.” He waited for me to answer.
”This is the easiest one. And the one people forget first.” He waited for me to answer.
“Survival?”
“Go on.” It was my turn to be the professor.
“Love is about surviving. The fights are normal. That’s how you know you still care. You know you stand a chance with them when they’re still not going to put up with your shit.” It’s true!
“And?”
“And you have to remember that you survive these fights. You both do. Together. And in the end, with some faith, you’ll survive everything.” Mushy. But I was still proud of myself.
“That’s bullshit.” And then I wasn’t so proud of myself.
“Sweetness.” Sweetness. How could I forget?
“Sweetness?! Are you kidding me?!”
“Nope. Honest. Sweetness. It’s gasoline. It’s diesel. It’ll keep you cruising all the way to the coast. And when you’re running on empty? Sweetness is the backup generator. It’ll keep the AC on at night. The fridge running. Sweetness. Simple. Easy to forget.”
“…”
“You know I’m right.”
“…”
“A little peck on your cheek. Three little words. A nice compliment. How was your day?”
“Yeah.”
“It keeps you cruising.”
“It keeps you cruising.” Oh, Dad, you are right…
“Just remember that, when you think you’ve lost something you’re scared you won’t find again.” He kissed the top of my head again.
“South by SouthWest.”
“Exactly.” Exactly.
“So what were you drawing before we got all philosophical?” He pointed to the closed sketchbook on the grass beside me. I opened it up and showed him. Grass, trees, the river, a cherry tree.
“That’s here!”
“Pioneer Square
“Huh?”
“Yeah, it’s here. Waterfront Park
“Is that you? That little girl with the apple?”
“It’s a little girl with an apple.” Me.
“That’s a giant chicken!” The man from Pioneer Square
“Yep.”
“You’re really good, princess. Always were.”
“Aw, Thanks Dad.” Really.
“How about we take Frankie to the Market?”
“Only if it can be our thing. Me, you and Frankie. We don’t have to do it weekly, but I just—”
“Of course. Our thing. Me, Frankie, and Princess Audrey.” A natural Dad Frank smile. From my father. On my father’s day.
“Sounds like a wonderful day!”
“It was. Hey, I need to go. I’m in front of Henry’s now.”
“Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
“Yes, mam. Tomorrow night.”
“Nick will be over too. Is that Ok?”
“That’s Ok.”
”Think you’re ready?”
“I think so.”
“Ok. Goodnight, Audrey.”
“Goodnight, Chloe.”
Audrey hits the red button and pockets her phone. With her key, she opens Henry’s door. Henry gets up from the sofa in the living room and meets her in the hallway.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” A half-hug. A short kiss.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too. I think I’m going straight to bed. Long day with Dad.”
“Ok.”
She drops her bag next to the stairs and kicks her flip-flops to the side of them so she can find them easy the next morning. Then she remembers.
“Well, are you coming, handsome?” South by SouthWest.
Henry’s grin could easily be mistaken for a warm smile. He grabs his girlfriend by her waist.
“Why don’t you take a nice long shower, while I lay down some fresh sheets.” He holds her full. A longer kiss.
“Ok. Fresh sheets sound great.” Sweetness.
Halfway up the stairs, Henry calls to her. She turns around.
“Did you have a good day?” He asks from the bottom step.
“I did. But it was Frank’s.”
In the shower, the water falls like hot summer rain. Audrey stands directly under the showerhead. The round wash all around her.
She thinks about the drawing. Pioneer Square. Mr. Chicken. The unknown man inside the suit. The face she couldn’t see. The one that saw hers wet with hot summer rain.
She wonders how she got here from there. To this shower. Her own suit. She wonders who he is, what he looks like.
How lucky he was to have his face hidden, when hers was public in that crowded square. As lucky as she feels now, her face private in Henry’s shower. The water raining on her face, mixing with her tears. No one can see that she’s crying.
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