This statement makes me feel worse. I’m frozen in place, thinking of a little girl, with a single father, who is home sick and wanting her dad.
I’m trembling when Zebb’s hands come to my shoulders and stroke down my arms. He sighs heavily.
“You’re right. I need to get home. Do you mind making the stop before I take you back to your place?”
Stunned by his invitation to go with him, I nod once again, hoping the boy I once loved grew into a good man who loves his daughter.
5
We rode in silence to a street in the Lakeview neighborhood where homes are tall, skinny, and close together, but expensive. I hadn’t even bothered to remove my angel wings, but pulled the seat belt over them, leaning against the flimsy wiring. I’m ruining the distinguishing piece of my costume, but I’ll never wear this outfit again without thinking of the contrast in this night.
Zebb pulls down an alley and parks inside a garage. He doesn’t take my hand as he’d done when he picked me up. Instead, he walks ahead of me, and I follow like an errant child. Like I’m the one who’s been kept a secret. Like I’m the one who doesn’t matter because he hadn’t told me about something so huge, and so wonderful in his life. He has a daughter.
My emotions ping all over the place and all the parts of me lit from the party are now a strand of holiday lights with that one bulb blowing out the rest of the string.
We enter his home by a side door and walk up a few steps to the kitchen. The space is large with opulent, top of the line, stainless-steel appliances and an abundance of cabinets in a dark blue color. The room is beautiful, as far as kitchens go.
“I’ll be right back.” He tosses his keys on the counter and disappears into a living room. Harried thumps tell me he’s climbing the stairs.
A few minutes later, softer steps descend and enter the kitchen where I’ve been standing, stunned by Zebb’s silence and feeling a bit dejected.
“Hi.” A teenage girl who looks like Marnie greets me. “I’m Eleanor, Zebb’s niece.”
I introduce myself by simply stating my name. I don’t know who I am to Zebb. Old acquaintance? Friend? One-time lover?
“I’m really sorry about interrupting your date. Uncle Zebb doesn’t go out much, but with Tam’s fever, I didn’t know what to do.”
“Of course, you should have called Zebb.” I offer her a tight smile. He’s a father. He should be informed when his daughter is sick. “Are you at Immaculate Academy?”
She nods.
“Is Nick your brother?”
“You mean Football Jesus?” Eleanor rolls her dark eyes. “Yes. He’s my older brother.”
When we hear heavy feet thundering down the steps again, we pause as if waiting on Santa himself to descend a chimney.
Zebb enters the kitchen. Discomforting frustration fills his voice when he says, “Tam would like to meet you.”
“Oh.” My brows lift and Eleanor turns to face me. She smiles, almost encouraging me.
“I’m sorry again, Uncle Zebb.”
“No, you did the right thing.” He rubs a hand down her arm. “You can head out. I’ll be staying home.”
Eleanor smiles as Zebb pulls a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket and hands it to her. After giving him a hug, she heads to what I assume is the front door.
Without a word, Zebb turns toward the living room, and I follow. Dread fills me.She’s only a child, I tell myself as I hike up the skirt of my costume and climb the stairs behind him. Dressed like an angel isn’t exactly how one should meet someone’s kid.
Zebb pushes open the door to a room aglow in pink. Pink walls. Pink comforter. Pink lampshade.
And next to the white nightstand are two little prosthetic legs.
The knees look like cups and extend downward to two tiny feet.
I quickly look away from them and meet the most angelic face.
“Hi.” My voice cracks with nerves. Zebb’s daughter is sitting upright in a twin bed with the sheet pulled to her waist.