Part 6

I helped Lissa tidy up the front room and the kitchen table as Allison started boiling some whole wheat pasta in a pot. All the while, in my busy mind, I knew I hadn’t given Lissa an answer about her “girlfriends” date idea. And this was the worst time possible to ask.

It didn’t take Quilla long to figure out what was happening. The expression on her face started with joy but ebbed a little as she noticed her mom's dour expression. She glanced at me with a slight imitation of Lissa’s expression and went about dressing in nicer clothes without complaint.

I meandered a bit until Allison grabbed me and put me on dicing duty for the veggies. I sliced slowly as Allison hummed and received a recipe card from Lissa. Allison raised an eyebrow and Lissa put up her hands, explaining, “He likes it this way…”

With a smile, Allison bowed her head and committed to her cooking. She seemed to have gained deft speed from her change with no loss of accuracy. She moved so swiftly about her work that I expected cartoon-like motion blur to her bright limbs. I tried to speed up my cutting too and soon nicked my thumb.

I sucked on it and considered resetting to the form I’d saved hours before but decided to suffice with a little band-aid. Slicing slowly, I had time to ponder. Michael would soon be coming. And that left me with a big question I just had to ask Allison.

“What will we tell him?”

Allison paused, brushing back her chaotic hair and tracing a calm smile, to ask, “Hm?”

I explained, “Michael. If he asks who we are.”

With a little giggle, Allison automatically answered, “Our names.”

I held onto a parsley stalk and sighed. I wanted to counter Allison’s answer, to bring up how aloof Michael had been to her and all the stuff with me. I didn’t want Michael to know this was me. I only brought up that last part as I sliced into the parsley.

Allison gave a shrug and said, “It’s your call. If you want suggestions I’ve been toying with calling you Corlie for fun. Feel free to use it.”

I had to blink and stare as I pondered that name. It wasn’t really one I’d heard before. It wasn’t bad though. I remarked to Allison, “A bit random…”

She fanned a ladle around as steam started to billow from her work. “Not if you read baby name books for fun, like I sometimes do.” She smirked instead of elaborating on what she meant and handed me garlic to slice.

Allison sighed wistfully as she sifted through the spices in Lissa’s collection but stuck to the recipe she’d been given. Even without certain possibilities, the room was starting to smell really nice.

Before long, Quilla emerged ninja-like to sniff. She was stuffed into a red tartan dress which made her fussy. Lissa steadied her and was dressed in formal pants and a sleek top which looked like something she would’ve worn for an interview. Before I could even put the question out, Lissa answered for me, “No. I’m not trying to impress him. Just placate because I know he prefers Quilla in dresses and with me he’s less likely to get any ideas and I’m less likely to let my guard down.”

Finishing with the garlic, I asked Lissa, “What should I say?” I looked to Allison, who gave a smile to Quilla’s dress but was focused on the pasta more than anything else.

Lissa looked at me after taking a glance at the door. She arched her eyebrows and offered a quick, “Huh?”

“Michael, I mean. To Michael.”

Dipping her head down, Lissa answered, “I barely know what I’m going to say. And crud, I left the dryer on.” Swiftly, she hustled off.

Appropriately enough, right when Lissa was farthest from the front door, there came a quick, familiar succession of four rings and four knocks. Allison stayed where she was but Quilla darted to the door. I tried to catch her but she was too ninja quick for me and had the door open before I could get there.

She squealed and yelled, “Dad!” Arms reached through the doorway to scoop her up and hold her. A rare sound of rough laughter carried through the opening, followed by Michael.

He was tall, though not as tall as I’d anticipated from my change in height. But I could feel his presence as heavy shoes stepped through the threshold. His hair was curly and dark with just the slightest hint of red. His features were gaunt and peppered by traces of a beard which looked lighter than usual for him. Otherwise, it was the same broad nose and intimidating, dark eyes accented by his thick brows. He wore a brown polo shirt typical for him and he held Quilla easily against his shoulder, where she rested her head.

Shutting the door behind him, he raised his head and looked down at me as he remarked, “Hello. I assume you’re one of Melissa’s guests.” Quilla didn’t move to say anything. I nodded quickly and told him, “That’s right. She’ll be back in a…moment.”

As I spoke, Lissa hustled into the hallway and brushed back her hair. She said, loud enough for all to hear, “Michael. Good evening.”

Rubbing Quilla on the back, Michael answered, “And good evening to you. I know I didn’t give much forewarning. But I wanted to see our little one.” He bent his arm and Quilla hopped down. Her eyes were locked on her father, who held her by the hand.

Lissa folded her arms but took a step back. “So…just for dinner.”

Michael regarded Lissa blankly, saying only, “At least. And I can smell it already.” Quilla led him forward, around me and around Lissa, to the kitchen.

There was little reaction from Michael to Kinrae Allison cooking dinner. She gave a pleasant wave and said, “Hi! I’m Allison. It’ll be ready in a little while.”

Seizing the nearest chair at the kitchen table, the one Lissa had just been sitting in, Michael set his hands in front of him and looked to Quilla. “So, what have you learned lately, my dear?”

Lissa fumed in the hallway, fussing at her hair, and locked the front door. I approached Michael and Quilla and pretended to be interested in looking out the window at the approaching dusk. Quilla announced her counting skills and all the numbers she’d “discovered”. Even a quick mention of multiplication tables didn’t fluster her, as she had several prepared to recite.

Then Michael asked her a spelling question. They weren’t complicated or strange words but they were definitely words I’d never heard Quilla use before. She pressed her fingers on the table as she tried to sound out “approximate”, as Michael repeated it for her. He had on a calm expression but his eyes were focused on his daughter.

After Quilla floundered with that word and several after it, he gave a sigh. Lissa stood in the doorway with her arms folded. Michael leaned towards her and said, “There should be a dictionary in my office.”

Lissa took a step forward, unblinking. “Is this why you came here? To make her feel bad she can’t recite everything there is to learn by age six?”

Quilla drew her arms in and stared at the table. Without expression, Michael answered, “No. I came here to see how she’s doing. Last year, she scored in the 98th percentile on the toughest test that school of hers bothers to give her age group. She shouldn’t even be there.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I’d heard bits of this argument in the months previous. Lissa brought back what she’d said then about Quilla’s friends and how much she enjoyed the school. Quilla looked like she wanted to say something but she clenched her lips and traced the table with her fingers. Allison leaned her head over her shoulder from time to time to listen as she stirred. I clenched my small, colorful fists to my side.

Michael gave a soft snort as he answered, “If she wants friends then there are other places for that. She needs to be challenged, to be taught at a better pace.”

Lissa leaned forward. “So you take an interest in our daughter now? Why now, when you haven’t all this time?”

Leaning back with the same unchanging look, Michael didn’t even bother to shake his head or raise his voice. “You really think...I don’t have an interest in her? I’ve taken care of everything for her. I’m always thinking about her and her future.”

Quilla buried herself deeper against the table as Lissa approached Michael with her feet smacking against the tile. “You talk to and about her like she’s a project or an experiment. Put in such amount of knowledge and it’ll spit out whatever. People are not machines. Little girls especially. You never ask her what she likes or what makes her smile or who her friends are or what she’s done in a day. You just take an account of how much stuff she packed inside her brain, like that will make her happy and successful.”

I wanted to intervene but it was another of those strange back and forth conversations I remembered so bitterly. I felt like they were both on the verge of snapping at one another but Lissa, while sharp with her point, wasn’t yelling and Michael was the picture of relaxed confidence.

He listened to all Lissa said and returned, “Quilla has so much potential. Just because she’s young doesn’t mean she should sit around and be idle. This is her most important time when she forms good habits of academics and thought. What makes her smile is fine but what’s important is living up to the potential she has right now. Smiles change, as do friends and interests.”

Lissa raised her hands like she was strangling Michael’s neck by a subtle, mental force. Quilla sat up in her seat with a slap of her legs against the chair. She looked right at Michael, who looked back calmly. She took a breath but didn’t say anything.

Allison lifted up her steaming ladle and said, “I never realized anyone could sound like more of an a-hole than my mother but congrats. Not to say you’re wrong in everything but I’m sure at least some people in this room want to kick you hard in the nuts, Mr. Cohen.”

Michael turned around in his seat to look at Allison’s smiling visage as she attended to the pot. He looked her up and down and asked, “You said your name is Allison?” She confirmed this with a generous nod.

Still staring, Lissa began to move closer when he said, “I remember an Allison who was a roommate of Sean Kurtz. Are you that Allison?” For emphasis, he flicked a glance my way.

I took a long breath and jumped into the quiet lull. I told myself not to panic. I told myself that I knew the words I wanted to say but when I opened my mouth, all plans fell away. I had the void before me. Still, I had words.

“I’m Sean Kurtz.”

That drew Michael’s attention fully to me. He looked me up and down. I held my hands out as I announced, “Yeah. I’m Sean. And I’m an anime girl right now. And I like it. I love it. And I love Lissa. And I love Quilla. And I even love Allison too. What do you love, Michael? Because it never seemed like you loved anything from the moment I met you. You aren’t even interested in Quilla except as a thing you can shape according to some plan of her becoming another you. What about what she wants? She loves pirates and ninjas and creating things and…most veggies. She also likes so many things in school and she has friends and she exists apart from you. But I know she loves you because you’re her dad and she loves Lissa too because she’s her mom. And I know right now that you’re not taking the least consideration for your daughter by fighting with her mom and finding what arbitrary things you think she should have rehearsed for you. You want to know Quilla? Watch her play. As for you, Michael…either be here and be less the man who pushed his family away or stay away and find people who can tolerate the kind of man you are.”

When I was done, I couldn’t stop my legs from trembling. I pressed them together to keep it from showing. There was only a stony coldness in his gaze. It never turned from me. He just watched. No color was added to his face. No quivering. No anger. He just watched me and eventually asked, “Is that all?”

Quilla sniffled into her hands. Lissa looked between me and Michael with her mouth clenched tight. Allison glanced over her shoulder but kept stirring. If he wanted a fistfight, I knew exactly where my controller was to turn back into regular Sean. But he leaned back against the chair, settled in his place. It didn’t look like he wanted to make a move.

It was only after several quiet heartbeats had passed that I realized I hadn’t responded to his question. I told him, “That’s enough.”

He arched his eyebrows with his head dipped. Softly, he repeated fragments of what I’d said, winding backwards, “Be less of the man…watch her play. What she wants….what do I love…”

With a sudden suck of air, Michael began, “I could ask you to leave because I’ve paid more than half the mortgage on this house and my name is first on the deed. It’s….my property. I could get angry that you’re getting so close to my wife, even though we’re separated. And I could yell that you can’t possibly presume to understand the situation in my family just from what you’ve seen over the scant time you’ve known us. I could shake the walls in reply to all I know about my wife and my daughter…”

He tipped himself slightly upwards but not in the sort of position where I worried he might lunge at me. He brushed at his cheek and continued, “But I’m here for dinner as a guest, same as you are. And I’d really rather dwell on other things.”

That seemed like an appeal for a truce but not clearly stated. I looked at the table and made my way towards the seat opposite Michael. Allison was nearly done, already serving out the pasta and putting on the final touches. There had been truces like this with Michael before. But he would get noisy, not so much angry but like his voice surrounded all and your senses started to melt. I expected that to follow the brooding but he held back.

Quilla let go of the table. She leaned away from both me and Michael and edged towards Lissa when she finally took a seat on Michael’s side. Though she was on his side of the table, it was more as a wall between him and Quilla. Michael still leaned around to watch his daughter. My presence seemed hardly noticed by him.

And so this tense arrangement went as Quilla’s sniffles faded to little coughs and picking at her short nails with bits of backyard dirt buried underneath.