The early evening sunlight was amber and lay in patches on the floor and counters. These splashes of yellow used to be Mattie’s favorite part of summer when she was little, warm spots in the air-conditioning and light spaces in slowly darkening rooms. Her fingers darted over the edges of one patch, forming shadowy animals on its surface as she waited for dinner. Her foot swung like a pendulum against the counter, the slap of her flip-flop echoing the dull thud of her foot. Her hair, still drying from her shower, formed wet patches on her tee shirt and goose bumps on her skin between her shoulder blades.
She watched his back as he cooked, watched the shifting muscles as he moved around the kitchen and stirred something on the stove. The light flirted with the fabric of his shirt and blended into shadows with his movements. Mattie let her eyes drift shut and she angled her head to catch the light on her face. She shook her hair back and listened to the dinner sounds. Steam from a pan condensed on the hood and gathered in droplets on the wall behind it. The vegetables snapped and hissed as he lowered them into hot olive oil and the sound of metal clinking against metal filled the spaces.
Her foot drifted in and out of the shade, alternating between warm and cool air. She let her head rest in her palm and pried her eyes open to survey the table. Sunlight caught on the water glasses and stretched until it formed thin bands of light on their sides. She had picked out the red napkins and white placemats, badgering him until he agreed to buy them. The napkins reminded her of cherries and apples and warm things.
“Well?” His voice rolled over the sounds on the burners.
“Well, what?” She turned her attention back to him.
He glanced over his shoulder as he turned down the heat on the stove. “How was your night with your dad?”
She shrugged and traced the edge of a square of light. It had grown and changed its shape since she had been sitting at the counter. It was oblong and narrow now, its warmth less potent. “It was nice.”
He pulled down two dinner plates, thick white ceramic that looked heavy, but wasn’t. The lights caught on their surfaces and formed interlocking rings. The muffled sound of ceramic on granite underscored the sounds from the stove. “Why don’t you get us some water?” He nodded to the refrigerator and Mattie pushed herself off the stool. “Is that all you’re going to tell me?”
She shrugged again and said, “What else do you want to know?” She closed the refrigerator door, bumping it shut with her hip. “There’s not that much to tell.” Twisting off the bottle caps, she poured water into their glasses. “He’s looking for an apartment,” she volunteered quietly.
His hand tightened on the spatula and he shifted his stance. Waiting a beat, then letting the beat grow and slide into silence, he breathed deeply before asking, “Where?”
“Around here,” she answered. “So I don’t have to switch schools again.”
He nodded and started transferring food onto the plates. “Makes sense.”
“He wants me to go with him this weekend, if that’s okay with you?” she asked. Her fingers danced over the back of her chair, slipping around the sides and curling over them.
Harm turned to face her. “Mattie,” he said slowly, “he’s your father.”
She hitched her shoulder and tightened her grip on her chair. Biting her lower lip, she studied her feet, searching her toes for chips in the polish. “Yeah, I know.” She pointed a foot and propped its heel against her other ankle. “But you’re my guardian right now and that’s kind of like a parent, you know? I thought I should check with you first. In case you had plans.”
He set their plates on the table. “If it’s want you want to do,” he started.
She sat down in a huff and pushed her hair back behind her ears. “I don’t know what I want to do.”
“Maybe you should figure that out.” He picked up his fork and gestured to her plate. “Eat.”
She stabbed a zucchini and started at it on the end of her fork. “Why can’t you tell me what to do?”
“Because it has to be your choice.” He gripped his silverware and stared at the fish in front of him, wishing he could tell her what to do. That he could tell her to stay. “It’s part of growing up.”
“It sucks,” she said, her lower lip forming a pout. “Why is this so easy for you?” She tugged her napkin through her fingers and stomped her foot against the floor. “Are you going to be that glad to see me go?”
“Mattie, no.” He said the words firmly, covering her hand with his, stilling her movement. “It’s not easy and I’m going to miss you.” He took a deep breath and added, “More than you’ll know.”
She sniffled and nodded. “It’s just so hard,” she said. “I don’t want to go but….” She stuttered on the word and looked away.
“But he’s your dad.”
She nodded again and brushed a hand over her cheeks. “Can I come visit?”
“You didn’t have to ask.”
She shuddered out a long a breath and pulled her hand free. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She paused. “Let’s change the subject.”
“Let us.”
“And tomato.”
He smiled and asked, “How was work?”
She grimaced. “Evil.” Her expression cleared and she leaned against the table. “Who knew being a camp counselor meant being a human jungle gym? I’m going to be a walking bruise soon.” She glanced up at him. “Speaking of … did you get time off?”
“I did,” he confirmed. “And the reservations are all set.”
“Yippee!” She clapped her hands, tossing her napkin in the air. Bending down to scoop it off the floor, she said, “I wonder what I should pack.” She noticed that he wasn’t looking at her. “What?”
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“What?” she asked again.
“I mentioned our vacation to Mac. She told me she always wanted to go to Martha’s Vineyard.”
Mattie nodded slowly and pushed a potato around her plate. “Is she coming with us?”
“I invited her, but she said no.”
Her fork paused halfway between her lips and table. She lowered an eyebrow. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. But he meant to say he didn’t understand.
Mattie nodded and stared at her dinner. She lifted her fork and watched the light slide down the tines. A deep blue was filling the sky, pushing away the last of the yellow light. A car honked on the street and another car’s door slammed shut. She could hear someone shout out a window. Inside the building, the elevator ground to a halt. Its gears creaking in the empty hallway. “That’s Jen,” she said. “Can I go tell her about the vacation?”
“Go ahead,” he nodded. “I’ll take care of the dishes tonight.” He stacked the plates and tossed the silverware on top.
He was standing at the sink when he heard her run up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, resting her cheek against his spine. He patted her hands, wrapping his fingers around hers. “Thank you,” she said into his shirt. She didn’t have to add “for everything.”
He nodded and she could feel the long slide of muscle over bone beneath her cheek. “You’re welcome.” Shifting a little so he could hug her, too, he added, “Thank you, too.”
Raising
herself onto her toes, she kissed his cheek before darting towards the
door. “And, Harm?” she said, peeking her head back into his
apartment. “Try asking her again. Who knows?"