I knew that Albert and Craig had moved to the area. It was this past summer. I was aware of it, wondered if maybe Ang could see Craig a little more. I knew she missed him.
It wouldn't be that awkward. I probably wouldn't see Albert all that much, if at all. No reason to. After all, I was a car salesman, he was a surgeon. We didn't exactly run in the same circles.
I did want Craig to be able to see Angela but I was nervous about calling Albert about it. He hated me. Understandably, I supposed. And I guess he intimidated me a little. Julia's ex-husband. Shutter. We had both loved the same woman, fathered children with the same woman, married the same woman. It was, well, awkward.
Angela was starting kindergarten this year. It made me a little sad that Julia was missing this. Missing all of this. She wasn't a baby anymore. School. Growing up.
I thought I'd bring Ang to the cemetery after her first day of school. Part of me was so terrified she'd forget Julia. She had been so young when she died. I picked her up at Emma and Spike's house, waving to Emma, helping Angie into her lightweight jacket. We went to the f lower shop and Angie picked out a bouquet of yellow flowers. I swallowed hard. Julia had loved yellow.
Walking past the other graves to get to Julia's, all the newer names mocking me. Pushing my wife further into the past. Angie walked carefully, holding the flowers.
"Do you think mommy likes it up in Heaven? Craig said-" Angie, her little voice, talking about a Heaven I wasn't so sure about anymore. If it was only that easy. God gives you everything just to take it away and replace it exactly as it was up in Heaven with the blue sky, the clouds, the angels. Julia up there safe and sound. I shook my head. I didn't know. I hoped we survived, in some form. I just didn't know what to tell Ang. But what sort of concerned me was her mention of Craig, as though she had just talked to him.
"Honey, did you see Craig?"
Bit her lip, shook her head, said no. Said, "I promise," that curious phrase that both she and Craig used when they were lying. She'd seen Craig, I was certain.
"Tell me the truth," I said, but I would get no more out of her. She'd said too much already, the look on her face said. Then I heard a noise, looked up and swore I saw Craig kind of behind a grave monument.
"Craig?" I said, and he took off, whoever it was.
"Craig!" I called, pretty sure it was him though I hadn't seen him in quite a while. Two years just about. The running figure, a camera around his neck, black leather jacket. Then he turned, and even though he was older I knew. The eyes. That worried look he shared with Julia. Craig. I'd have to call Albert. The kids should be able to see each other. It was best for Angie, and Craig, too. I couldn't let the hatred between Albert and me stand in the way of what was best for the kids. I'd call him as soon as I got home.
I called while I was preparing supper, Angie coloring in front of the T.V. Answering machine, and I felt some relief. Off the hook for now. So I left my message and hung up.
Watching T.V. at night, the supper dishes drying in the dish drain. Feet up on the coffee table, glass of red wine in my hand. Since Julia had died I'd started drinking a glass or two of wine, just to unwind. God, I missed her. So much. Every day. Time hadn't made much inroads to this grief. It still felt fresh.
The phone rang, jarring my thoughts. I reached over, picked it up, half afraid it would be Albert. After the wine I wasn't quite up for his biting sarcasm, his thinly veiled anger and jealousy.
"Joey Jeremiah!" I sighed in relief. It was Snake.
"Hey, Snake, what's up?"
"Little party tomorrow for Spike, at her house. You up for it?"
"Oh yeah, I'll be there,"
Hung up, smiled a little. Snake and Spike seemed to be getting a little chummy. Good for them. I poured myself a third glass of wine, shooed Angie up to brush her teeth and get in her jammies. Kissed her good night. Flipped through the channels on the T.V., mindless crap about all I could stand and concentrate on. The wine hit me a little hard. Good for them.
Next day and I got Angie up, and since the excitement of the first day was over she was tired, pouty, didn't want to get up. I smiled a little. Only 12 more years of it, kid. I supposed I'd get used to this tired pouty morning face. We were starting to fall into a routine. Drove her to school, headed to work, brewed up a strong pot of coffee.
I was thinking of cutting out of work early to head over to Spike's party. That's what I was thinking about as I went through my song and dance with some customers. Then I heard that voice.
"Listen to the man. He knows cars," I looked over, and there was Albert. Black sunglasses, or the type of glasses with the lenses that darken in the sun. He adjusted his jacket, and for a second I saw this almost vulnerable look. Vulnerable wasn't a state of being I usually associated with Albert Manning. I excused myself and went over to him.
"Albert, you got my message," I stated, and hoped that this could be civil. We'd never accomplished civil before.
"Sure did," Whatever vulnerability I had seen had vanished, and the Albert I recalled resurfaced. Powerful. In control. Disdainful. This probably wouldn't go well.
"It's about Craig, just, how is he doing?"
"What's your interest in my son? He's my son,"
I closed my eyes for a split second longer than a blink. So possessive. He had been that way with Julia, and had once said almost the exact same words about her, what do you want with her? She's my wife, mine!
"He's also Angela's brother,"
"Half-brother. What's your point?"
Swallowed hard. Looked at my sale walking away. Looked at my cheap plastic sale flags flapping in the slight breeze. Looked at Albert's brand new Lexus, power everything.
It devolved. I told him the kids should be able to see each other, that we should do something. I told him Craig had been seeing Angela, and the look on his face, the tight anger, scared me. He got in his car and drove away while I was still talking.
It was too bad. He didn't want Craig to see Ang and I guess that was that. It wasn't right or fair but he was right about one thing. Craig was his son. And he'd decide this sort of thing, so there you go. I guess it was what I expected.
Headed to Spike's with my big wrapped kite. Driving over in the sunny afternoon, feeling almost okay for once. I only had moments of feeling almost normal, sort of okay. Only minutes at most of not missing Julia like crazy. It was all I got, like drops of rain in a desert.
At Spike's I saw everyone on the porch, eating hot dogs. Saw Spike and Snake teasing and leaning into each other and I smiled indulgently. Saw Emma and her friend Manny, sipping soda through straws, nibbling on the hot dogs.
"Daddy!" Ang, and she ran over to me, pummeled me with a hug. Then, beyond Emma on the other side of the porch I saw Craig.
"Craig?" I said, puzzled and almost a little scared to see him. He must not have gotten the memo yet about his dad not wanting him here at all.
"What are you doing here?" I said, then cringed a bit at how it sounded. If it was up to me I'd be fine, he could hang out and see Ang all he wanted. But it wasn't up to me.
"I invited him," Emma said sharply, narrowing her eyes at me, and it was clear. Butt out, those little brown eyes said. Craig wasn't even really looking at me, and he kept moving nervously. Poor kid. I couldn't imagine having Albert for a father, to tell you the truth.
"It's okay, isn't it?" he said, looking sort of miserable and desperate and jagged. I squinted at him. What was wrong with him? I pulled him aside to talk about it, and he cam with me reluctantly. He'd gotten so much taller since I'd really seen him last.
"You're dad-" I started.
"He's fine with this," he said, cutting me off.
"He knows you're here?" I said, and watched him shift from one foot to the other, watched him not quite look at me. So I told him about seeing Albert and what he said and the look on his face, this dark defeated look made me troubled. But it wasn't really my business. He wasn't my kid. He took off, and I watched him leave with a sinking feeling. There was just nothing I could do.