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Alicia pulls food out of the freezer. She heats up the warm soup Benny had prepared a few nights before. The smell of the mint brings back homecoming night, it brings back the day I peeled peppers, it brings back the smell of the earth when we went to the art place. It’s like one of those slow flashbacks in the movies. I take a deep breath. I have to again remind myself this is not my father, Benny is Alicia’s father.
Alicia brought us back to the house so we could have a conversation about Natalie and Vianna’s stepmothers. I don’t know why she’s worried about us when her dad is so sick.
“So, girls. I want to hear everything. I want to know what they’ve been doing and if they’re hurting you.”
“I thought you guys were friends?” Natalie looks at Alicia, weary.
“No. I barely know them. Playing cards one night does not make me part of that little crazy group of theirs. Now, I want to know if they are hurting you.” Alicia’s says.
“Just my ego,” Natalie says, swirling the liquid with her spoon.
“She tried to hack my savings account, but my mom has that one in check,” Vianna replies.
“I miss my sister.” Natalie lets the tears fall. Something she rarely does. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. Someone had to do something, her throat was closing. I could see it in her face. I know how that feels. But I didn’t know that…” Natalie can’t compose herself enough to speak. Alicia pulls Natalie off the chair. Alicia holds her while she cries. I can’t remember the last time Natalie really let go and cried.
“None of it’s your fault. I think deep down, Stephanie knows it too,” Alicia says.
We eat. Vianna and Natalie talk. Alicia listens. They tell Alicia everything. Things even I’d forgotten about. Like the time Wendy let Vianna drive to school. Vianna had just got her permit. She let Vianna back the minivan out of the garage, and Vianna busted the mirror on the passenger’s side. It was six-thirty in the morning and Wendy went nuts screaming, waking the entire neighborhood.
Natalie told Alicia about the time she went to a family gathering of Stephanie’s. “Stephanie asked me take a photo of the family for her. More than twenty people posed for that photo, including my brother Cameron. I took a million pictures for them.”
“Were you included in any of the pictures?” Alicia asks.
“Nope,” Natalie says.
“What did your dad say?” Alicia asks.
“Nothing. I don’t think he even noticed. Whatever.” Natalie continues to swish the liquid in her bowl with the spoon.
I feel like a third wheel. But I know my friends are hurting and they need to purge the vileness out. Plus, they will no longer hate me for having the nice stepmom—or will they? I flip through a book of random facts that is sitting on the kitchen table. I’m sure it’s my dad’s, but he usually has these books in the bathroom. Okay, that is gross. “Did you know the can opener was invented forty-eight years after the can?”
Alicia looks at me and smiles. It looks like one of those vindictive payback smiles. It scares me a little until she says, “We’re going to pop the tops off those women.”
Alicia sends my friends home with specific instructions. “Do not say a word about your father’s wives to anyone except your mothers, and only your mothers. You three can’t talk about them, either. Don’t even text each other about them—especially don’t text each other. And nothing, I mean nothing, on any of the social networks. Got it?”
Vianna and Natalie’s eyebrows point in.
“Trust me,” Alicia says.
They do, and so do I.
Alicia walks my friends to the door. Then she confronts me at the bottom of the stairs as I take a step toward my room. “Okay, Massie, now for you and me.”
Crap. Just when I think I can trust her. I want to run away. I really don’t want to talk anymore. I’m tired and I want to take a nap.
Alicia tilts her head toward the living room. I follow. Because that damn choice thing is back, and the only choice she gives me is, “You first or me?”
“You.” I don’t know where she’s going with this. I always do better once I understand the argument. It gives me time to form a rebuttal.
“I think it would be good if we had some ground rules.” She lifts a single piece of paper from the coffee table. She’s armed. This isn’t going to be a fair battle. She grabs a gardening magazine from the table and places the white sheet over it. She writes while she speaks. With a pen.
“Number 1. I’m not your mother. I know you have a fantastic mom. For me to try and replace her would be the most ridiculous thing imaginable.” She makes eye contact, “Do you agree?”
I nod.
“Number 2. I’m not your friend. You have great friends.” She looks up at me again.
I don’t move but she must see the agreement in my eyes. She leaves it at that. But now I don’t know what to do. I wasn’t ready for this.
“Number 3. I need to understand that you love your dad and that you’re afraid I’m trying to take him away.” She doesn’t look at me this time. She continues to write while she talks.
“Number 4. I know that you’re hurt and wish your parents were back together. I’ve ruined that forever. That probably pisses you off. I can accept that. I’m sorry. Your mom’s too good for your dad. He hurt her in a way that she could not forgive, but that’s our stuff—not yours. Actually that’s their stuff. It’s not even mine. Know that I’ll give you time to work through this, and I’ll try to be understanding.”
“Number 5. My dad and I crowded in on your world. Not only do you have to share your dad with me but my dad’s always hanging out and I know that at times he can ramble on. We’ll both try to give you more space without him forcing the title of granddaughter on you.”
I shake my head. Hard. “Can I talk?” I ask.
“Yes, of course,” Alicia says. She stops writing and sets the paper and magazine down. I have her full attention.
“I love your dad. He gets me.” A lump forms in my throat. Tears trickle down my cheeks. I allow them to flow. My heart aches. Not the way it does for a boy. It feels like someone’s twisting it, ringing out the moisture my heart needs to survive. “He doesn’t try to change me. He doesn’t expect anything from me. He accepts me the way I am. When I’m mad, he lets me be mad. When I’m sad, he knows what to say. When I want to be left alone, he leaves me be. The only other person who knows me that well is my mom.”
“He is about the most perfect Papi ever,” she says, her pupils drowning because the dam hasn’t broken yet.
“Now he is,” I correct her.
The dam breaks. The salt water flows down her cheeks. “He told you, didn’t he?”
I can’t talk. I nod my head.
“He still feels guilty. He’s never gone on with his life because of her. I forgave him a long time ago. I only want him to move on, find happiness and love. He needs to forgive himself. He needs to love again.”
Benny’s dragon.
“He knows.” I can’t explain to Alicia and really there’s no need. She knows her father better than I ever will and for that I’m jealous, which is ridiculous, considering the circumstances.
“So my rules. I pick up the paper. Number 1. I will…” I say.
“Stop.” She lifts her hand. “You only have one rule, Massie, and that is to work through this change the best you can. You’re a nice girl. You’re a good girl. There’s been too much change in your life, too fast. I only ask that you try not to see me as the enemy because I’m really not. I’m on your side.”
Alicia takes the paper away from me. She signs her name to the paper and gently lays it in my lap. The only rules written are the ones for her to follow. I cross out what I don’t like in rule number five, which is all of it:
Rules for Alicia
1. I’m not Massie’s mother. She has one.
2. I will not push myself on Massie. She has friends.
3. I will not take Joel away from Massie. A daugh
ter needs her daddy. I know this from experience. I’m the grownup and I will act like one.
4. I will give Massie as much time as she needs to work through this. I will not rush her. She can take all the time she needs. In fact, she may never like me. That is her prerogative.
5. My dad and I need to give her more space.
I will follow these rules—Alicia
“I’m going back to the hospital. Do you have a phone now?” Alicia asks.
I shake my head. “Two to four business days.”
Alicia pats my leg and hops off the couch. “Come with me.”
I follow her to their room, a place I’ve never seen. It’s a room that I’ve purposely stayed away from. It’s simple. Sage walls and fluffy white comforters that match the ones Alicia purchased for me. Neutral brown and cream throws break up the white. Her father’s pottery is scattered throughout. The framed print of the flower that my father drew hangs above the bed.
“It’s pretty. He really did find your essence, didn’t he?” I say.
Alicia pauses. She looks at the flower. “I’m not sure what the flower’s essence is.”
“Not the flower’s essence, your essence,” I correct her.
“What?” her eyes focus on the print.
“The flower reminds him of you. Don’t ask how I know. I just know. But the flower is tall and secure with itself. Unusual. I mean it in a good way. Fragrant and peaceful. My father doesn’t draw anything random. He really does love you, Alicia.”
I’ve caught her off guard. Thankfully she doesn’t comment. That would be too weird. I don’t know why I’ve shared this with her, but she should know that he really does love her.
Alicia opens her nightstand and tosses two old phones onto the perfectly made bed. “They both suck. Pick one. At least you’ll be connected with the world for the next couple of days.”
I grab the pink flip phone. I love it. I always wanted one and never got one. Just like I really wanted to order that smartphone. I won’t get that either. “Thanks. I’ll need to relearn how to text without a keypad.”
“I’m sure it won’t take long,” Alicia says.
“Will you tell your dad—” The words come out choppy.
“Oh, I forgot one rule,” she interrupts me. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. “That’s my Papi. But you make him happy, his face lights up when he talks about you or when you walk into the room. So you’ll need to tell him whatever it is—yourself.” She holds the door open, “Are you coming or not?”