Hip Check (New York Blades) (32 page)

45

“Oatmeal raisin cookies?
These are pretty damn good.”

Michelle smiled as she and her dad settled down on his couch to watch
The Ellen DeGeneres Show
. Her dad used to hate watching TV during the day, but he’d gotten in the habit during his convalescence. The last thing she’d expected was that he’d become an “Ellen” addict.

“Glad you like them.”

Her father was finally getting used to a heart healthy diet, and had dropped about twenty pounds. The cough was gone and his blood pressure was on its way down. Depending on their schedules, she and Jamie alternated bringing him to rehab. He was feeling great. Michelle, however, was feeling like hell.

She was exhausted from going back and forth between Queens and Manhattan, and from the daily battles she fought with herself.
You and Esa caused his heart attack. That’s ridiculous: he never took care of himself. He doesn’t need you here anymore. If you leave something could happen.
Guilt was her predominant emotion. Guilt that her brother had been right, that the warning signs had been there and she’d ignored them. Guilt that she was letting Nell down, that she wasn’t there as much, that the reversion of her and Esa’s relationship to friendship was damaging her in some way.

It didn’t help that her brother continued to be an asshole. If she heard, “Well, if you listened to me, this might not have happened,” one more time, she was going to punch him in the face.

Her father reached for another cookie. “When’s the kiddo coming back from the West Coast?”

“Two days.”

“You seem a little lost without her,” her father observed.

“I guess I am. I miss her.”

“Just her?”

Michelle closed her eyes. “Daddy, don’t. Please.”

“I owe you a big fat apology, Michelle. An apology as big and fat as I used to be.” He turned off the TV.

“Are you having a stroke? I think you might be having a stroke. Let me call nine one one.” She started to get up to get her cell phone from the kitchen table, but her dad reached out, holding fast to the hem of her sweatshirt.

“Very funny. I’m not having a stroke. I’m having—excuse me, had—what’s known as an epiphany. Sit back down.”

Michelle sat back, unable to take her eyes off him. He’d never used the word “epiphany” before. Maybe he really was having a stroke.

“Stop staring at me like you’re waiting for me to keel over,” her father said in exasperation, flexing his slippered feet. “People who have strokes speak gibberish.”

“You did! You said you owed me a big fat apology!” Her father was unsmiling.

“Okay,” she said, slowly reaching for a cookie. “Ellen’s gone. I’m all ears.”

“I was wrong to tell you I was disappointed in you about the whole Saari situation, passing judgment like that. The more I thought about it, the more I realized: what the hell do I know? You were happy, the kid was happy, the Finn was happy, so I should’ve just butted out.” He leaned over and patted her knee. “The thing is, you’ll never stop being my kid, so I’ll never stop worrying about you, or wanting to protect you. And given Saari’s—Esa’s—track record, you have to admit it wasn’t nuts for me to worry about you getting kicked in the teeth.”

Michelle remained wary.

“But you’re a grown woman. If that’s what you want, if he’s who you want, then I support you no matter what. I just want to ask you one thing.”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Uh-oh. Here it comes.”

“As far as I know—and I know daughters don’t confide in their fathers the way they do in their mothers, so I might be wrong—you’ve never been seriously involved with anyone before. Which mystifies me. You’re smart, you’re pretty—”

“I’ve always been afraid they’d die on me,” Michelle admitted very quietly, her throat clogging with long-suppressed emotion. “I’ve always been afraid of being the one who’s left behind to deal with all the pain.”

Her father looked sad. “I thought that might be it.”

Michelle wished the TV was on, so she had somewhere to look. “I know it’s silly.”

Her father put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s not silly.”

“I feel like it is.”

“That’s because you’re hard on yourself.” He looked down at his lap for a long time. “I did the best I could, kiddo. I didn’t know anything about little girls. I didn’t know much about being real hands-on with you kids, period. Some days it was hard for me to just get out of bed.”

“I know you did your best, Dad. Honest.”

“I know it was especially hard on you. Don’t think I don’t know.” Tears began spilling from Michelle’s eyes as her dad squeezed her shoulder. “I might not know much, but I do know kids need their mothers—or someone who’s like a mother to them. Which is what you are to Nell. You know that, right?”

Michelle felt overwhelmed. “I try. She’s been through so much.”

“She loves you.”

“And I love her. I just hope the fact that things have changed between me and Esa isn’t confusing her too badly. I’m worried it is.”

“So get back with him.”

Michelle burst out laughing. “Now you are talking gibberish! We’re done.” She picked a renegade raisin off the edge of her cookie. “It was stupid, anyway. It never could have worked.” She was a teacher; she knew all about concentration. That was what she’d been concentrating on making herself believe ever since Esa said they’d never be romantic again.

“I’m sorry that my stupidity soured this for you, Michelle. If I could take back all my dumbass words, I would.”

“Maybe they were meant to be said.”

“Don’t give me that mystical bullcrap,” her father smirked.

“Got it.”

“I’ve got three more things I need to say before I ditch you for Ellen.”

“What?”

“I know you love that kid, so if you can handle it, get back to where you belong: living with Nell and Sa—Esa full-time.” His eyes shifted away. “I’ve been selfish, making you go back and forth for so long. It’s just that it’s been so nice having you around.”

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Michelle wondered how it was possible for joy and guilt to well up at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Hold on a minute.” He took a bite of his cookie. “Second thing: I don’t see why you can’t get back with Esa. He’s got to know this whole stupid mess is my fault, right? If you want, I can go apologize to him in person.” Her father directed his half-eaten cookie in her direction. “It’s important you listen to me, Michelle. It’s scary that you never know if the person you love is going to be snatched away from you, that it can happen even when you’re young. But the risk is worth it. Trust me.”

“Dad
.
”
Michelle’s voice was shaky. “This is so weird. It doesn’t sound like you. To be honest, it’s freaking me out a little bit.”

“It’s freaking me out a little bit, too.” Michelle was amused as he took another big bite of his cookie. Ed Beck, Queens original in-between-bites philosopher. “Sometimes a health scare helps you put things in perspective.” He shook his head, chuckling. “You would think I’d know all this stuff already after being a firefighter; you see and risk death all the time. But you can’t afford to think about it. And even after your mom died, I didn’t really think about it that much, I was so wrapped up in my pain. But coming so close myself”—he blew out a deep breath—“you realize life is really goddamn short, kiddo. You have to go for it and not give a damn what anyone else thinks or says. Most important of all, you have to get out of your own way. Don’t analyze things to death. Let yourself be happy.”

Her father sucked in his bottom lip, always a sign he was trying not to get choked up. “Now, one more thing before I make you go home: your mom’s up there in heaven watching everything, and she’s very proud of you. She always has been. I just had to tell you that.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

“No need to thank me.” He waved his hand vaguely toward the kitchen. “Now get your purse and get out of here. I need some peace.”

Michelle was grinning as she grabbed her stuff, amused by how fast that TV went on and how quickly her dad’s eyes were already one with the screen.

“One more thing,” he said.

Michelle clucked her tongue. “Jesus, Dad! This is like some bad deathbed skit!”

“Tell Esa thank you.”

“What?”

“Just tell him that, all right?”

“All right,” said Michelle. She knew it had to do with her; she just hated that it was so cryptic. She sucked at cryptic.

She kissed her dad’s cheek. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

“No, you don’t have to call tomorrow.” Her dad’s voice was distracted; Ellen was sucking him into the vortex. “I’ll call you in a few days, okay?”

“Okay. Whatever you say. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Michelle walked out the door, leaving her father and Ellen behind.

* * *

“Look! My hair’s
just like yours now!”

Nell came spilling into the apartment, a bundle of uncontained energy. Michelle wasn’t surprised: the Blades had taken a red-eye flight back to New York from L.A., and Nell had probably slept the whole way. Esa was the one who looked worse for wear, with dark circles drawn under his eyes, his skin a little paler than usual. He also had a five o’clock shadow which, despite his weariness, made him look sexy. Michelle kicked the thought out of her mind.

“I made your favorite scones,” she called to Nell, who was in her room unpacking.

“
Utmarkt
!” Nell called back.

“And I’m back for good!”

“Super
utmarkt
!”

Michelle looked at Esa, impressed. “Teaching her more Finnish?”

“
No
. ‘Utmarkt’ is Swedish for ‘excellent.’ Torkleson taught her. I wanted to teach her how to say, ‘Don’t ever come near my head again with a pair of shearing scissors, you Swedish mong,’ but I don’t think there’s a Finnish equivalent for ‘mong.’”

Michelle pictured the Swede’s giant hand taking a pair of scissors to Nell’s head, her beautiful blond hair falling to the floor in uneven sheets. “He didn’t.”

“Oh yes, he did,” replied Esa sourly, shoving his battered safari jacket into the closet. “I almost murdered him. Seriously, what kind of an idiot plays barber with a little girl?”

Michelle winced. “You know how persuasive Nell can be.”

“She’s eight!” Esa practically yelled.

It was pure impulse: Michelle put a hand on his forearm to calm him. “Relax. No matter what she looked like, she looks adorable now. Little girls play hair salon all the time. It’s just usually not a vicious Swedish defenseman who’s the other barber.” Esa glanced down at where his hand rested on her forearm and gently removed it. Mortified, Michelle took a small step back.

“She wants pierced ears,” Esa informed her.

“That’s for you to decide,” Michelle said coolly.

Esa sighed. “But it’s a girl thing,” he murmured, closing his eyes as he slowly ran his forefingers along his eyebrows. He stifled a yawn.

“No, it’s a
guardian
thing.” She was dying to ask him if he’d broken through the wall between him and Nell, but he seemed to be in a very bad mood.

“I could fall on my face right now,” he announced.

“Go take a nap.”

“I’m physically tired, but I still need to wind down mentally.” He paused. “Do you think I might have a couple of those scones?”

“What do you think?”

Esa’s mouth curled into a tired smile. “Thank you.”

“Apparently, I’m supposed to thank you.”

“For what?”

“You tell me. My dad just said to thank you.”

Esa opened his eyes.

“What did he mean?” she asked.

Esa shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, covering his mouth to yawn.

Watching his back as he retreated into the kitchen, Michelle knew he was lying.

* * *

The entire day
felt out of whack. After
very
early morning scones, Esa crawled off to take a short nap. Nell couldn’t have cared less about sleep. She’d already recounted most of the trip to Michelle over the phone, but she retold it, this time in greater detail. How she went to Magic Mountain in L.A. with Uncle Esa, Uncle Eric, and Uncle Jason. How Uncle Eric “spewed” after the ride. How she watched the games with Lou and the two of them ate things like fish tacos and Navajo fry bread. How she watched
The Wild and the Free
“with the guys,” and they all were upset that Aunt Monica had been possessed by a demon. There was just one thing that made her sad, she told Michelle: “You weren’t there.”