Snack (5 page)

As I pull away drunk from the kiss and slowly open my eyes, I see before me flashing red and blue lights. No, not fireworks, although that’s what I thought for a second with the feel of his lips still heavy on mine. No, my first kiss was just witnessed by Downers Groves’ finest. A DGPD patrol car with its cherries blazing pulls next to us, and a police officer steps out and comes toward us.

“Marcus Snackenberg? Minnie Cooper?” His expression is stern and flat.

“Yes,” we answer simultaneously.

The police officer shakes his head and chuckles, which is a relief. Perhaps we’re not going to get too much grief. “You two have your folks worried sick. Come on, get your bikes and throw them in the back.”

Snack whispers to me, “You’re dad is going to be so mad! He’ll be like Obi-Wan Kenobi!”

“Snack, Obi-Wan is one of the good guys. You call yourself a boy? You know nothing about Star Wars! Besides, if anyone has a scary father it’s you. Your dad is Boba Fett.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s cold, steely, and barely talks.”

Snack shrugs. “True.”

Snack and I return to his house in the aforementioned police cruiser. His parents and my dad are waiting in the driveway. We’re greeted with hugs, tears, repeated scolding, and warnings that if Snack wasn’t already going away we would’ve been grounded from seeing each other for a long time.

Snack whispers, “That’s why I ran. This vacation is like a giant grounding. Trapped in a moldy old cabin with giant mosquitos, no Nintendo, no computer, and no Minnie.” I hear him and so does his mom, earning him a swat on the rear.

The Snackenberg’s car is packed and ready to go, with the exception of Snack’s stuff. Colette stands at the open door of the car, tapping her foot. “Snack, go in and get your bag so we can leave.

Mr. Snackenberg has already started the ignition. His irritation at the delay appears to outweigh any relief he had at finding us when he bellows out the window, “And HURRY UP!”

My dad looks down at me and shakes his head. When the police officer unloads our bikes, Dad rolls Snack’s into the garage.

I stand frozen, replaying the entire afternoon in my head, especially the kissing part. I rub my lips with my fingers.

When Dad comes back he cocks his head and squints at me. “You OK, Min?” I nod and Dad drops it. He walks over to Colette shaking his head and holds his hands up by his ears palms up.

Snack runs out of the house with a bulging backpack over his shoulder. He stops for a moment in front of me, looking me dead in the eyes.

My heart is beating so fast, and I can’t stop thinking about the way his lips felt on mine. I know he’s thinking about our kiss, too. I wish I could kiss him again right here, right now.

Snack reaches down and loops his pinky around one of mine and says softly, “My girl.”

I hope nobody else heard. I hope his words are only for me.

The moment is interrupted when Colette yells from the car, “Snack, come on! I want to get to the lake before dark.”

“Coming!” Snack turns away and moves to the car.

Colette isn’t finished. “Did you go potty already?” she asks him loudly.

“Yes.” Snack responds without embarrassment.

“Really? You weren’t in there very long.”

In true Snack style, he gets the last word. “Yes, Mom, I can pee fast. It’s the wonders of having a penis!”

Before getting in the car, Snack turns and winks. “It’s true. It’s amazing to have a dick!” Thank God his parents are already in the car.

Laughing, I roll my eyes in an exaggerated way.
“You
are a dick!”

Snack lets out a huge snort and says, “Yeah, but you love me anyway.” Then he puckers his lips, blows a kiss at me, and disappears into the car.

He has no idea how correct he is.

Snack reaches across the table and grabs my hand, weaving his fingers in mine. It’s a familiar move. It’s the way Snack used to hold my hand—with our fingers all tangled up together.

“God, the Lake Geneva Incident…” He shakes his head like he can’t believe the crap we used to pull. “Some first date, huh?”

I gape in disbelief. “That was a date?”

“Hey, I paid for the ice cream.” Snack chuckles. His laugh is good to hear and infectious.

I giggle along with him. “And practically got me arrested.”

Snack’s laughter dies and he takes my other hand. He gives me a tight squeeze and lowers his voice. “After a
very
memorable first kiss.”

I feel a jolt of excitement rush up my chest and plummet down to my belly, making me squirm in my seat. I look down at our tangled hands and a vision of our bodies doing the same flashes in my mind. I feel a naughty grin creeping onto my face.

What am I doing? This man just lost his wife. He can’t be flirting with me? I shouldn’t be thinking what I’m thinking. And what about Henry? Whatever he is… Boyfriend? Roommate? I felt lousy just visualizing Snack while I was with him this morning. Now I am canoodling. Snack just needs a friend. Settle yourself, Minnie. I quickly wipe what I can only guess is an inappropriate expression from my face.

“Yes!” I can barely get out the word as I look up from the table and into his heavily lidded, navy blue eyes. Navy blue eyes that look a little wet. Snack gulps a couple of times. “Min… My girl… I’ve miss—”The front door of the café flies open and a large gust of cold air invades the warmth of the place. Snack looks up and I twist in my seat to see what’s happening.

My father, wearing a significant dusting of snow, comes through the door and stomps clumps of the wet, fluffy stuff off his boots. I guess it started getting bad out there. I was so wrapped up in Snack, I hadn’t noticed.

Colette runs from behind the counter to greet my dad. “Gil, you’re covered! What in the world is going on out there?”

“The snow is getting worse. I think we’re in for a blizzard. I parked the El Camino down the street and walked a block. Look at me!” He holds his snowy arms out to the side. “I’m a snowman.”

The two of them laugh together. It’s so great my dad has such a good friend here in town. Colette brushes the snow off my father with a dishtowel from her back pocket. She and my dad let out a whoop as snow flies all over the entryway and begins melting and dripping down Dad’s face. Colette, almost reverently, wipes the melted snow away from his cheeks with the towel. He smiles at her as she does, and I feel like I’m intruding on a private moment. Dad eventually looks up from Colette’s face and meets my gaze. He blinks way whatever fog Colette consumed him with. Maybe I did catch him in something. He leans down and says something to Colette quickly.

Looking back at me, he yells, “Mouse!” Mouse is Dad’s shortened version of his nickname for me, Minnie Mouse.

“I don’t know why he calls you that. You’re nothing like a mouse,” Snack states. I tilt my head and press my lips together. Mouse just goes with Minnie, but there’s no need to explain.

I remove my hands from Snack’s and get up to go see my father. By the time I get to him, Colette has helped him remove his coat and hat so I can hug him without getting drenched.

“Welcome to Chiberia! Well, technically, I guess Downers Grove is Outer Chiberia.” Dad wraps me in his big arms and squeezes me tight. He must be hanging around with Colette more than I thought, because this is a Snackenberg hug, not a Cooper hug. He kisses me on the forehead and says, “Looks like you and Snack are catching up.”

“Yeah, a little,” I reply.

“Can’t wait to do more,” Snack says from behind me, causing me to jump a bit in Dad’s arms. “Hey, Gil!” Snack sticks out his hand for my father and shakes his hand while holding onto Dad’s elbow in an affectionate manner. All the patrons that were in SNACKS when I arrived have left. I didn’t even notice anyone exit; I was so caught up in reminiscing with my old friend. Colette has flipped the open sign to closed and turned off most of the lights now except for the ones behind the counter and in back where the kids are playing.

“Snack.” Colette places one hand on Snack’s shoulder and one on my dad’s. “It’s getting late, maybe we should get the kids home to bed?” Snack and my dad say, “Yes, good idea,” at exactly the same time. Bizarre. Why would Dad answer that question?

“I just need to close up,” Colette says, “and then we can take off.”

“You know what, Mom? Why don’t you let Min and me clean up and shut down?”

“Really?”

“Sure, you and Gil can take the kids in the mom-mobile.”

“The ‘mom-mobile?’” I try hard to squelch a cackle.

“Yes, I drive a minivan,” Snack says. “Don’t start with me, Cooper. I have kids.”

My cackle turns into a full-blown giggle fit when I wave my hand and say, “I’m not saying anything.” Snack directs his attention back to his mom and my dad. “Like I was saying”—Snack shoots me the stink eye—“Mom, you can take the van. Minnie and I will come home later in the El Camino. If that’s OK with you, Gil.”

“Then I can pick you up and we’ll go home, OK, Dad?” I add.

Dad nods at Snack. “Sure, that sounds fine. But”—He chews on his words—“Umm, Minnie Mouse, I’m sort of…
staying
… at Colette’s.” Dad blushes with this confession.

I look to each person in the room for some sort of explanation.

Colette pipes up, “Gil has been helping out taking care of the kids along with Snack and me so I can work at the café and Snack can start looking for a new job. It’s just been easier for Gil to stay at the house.”

I think it’s odd that Dad didn’t mention this vital information on the phone. Exactly how long has Snack been home in Downers Grove. And how long has Dad been
staying
with Colette. Something’s up. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t think I’m getting the whole story.

Dad stutters, “Yeah, um… I’m helping and you know our house is big… And Sid hardly ever comes home since he moved out and… Uh…”

“So, where am I staying?”

Dad replies, “We’ll figure it out once you guys get to Colette’s. Depending on the storm. Maybe we’ll all just stay there tonight and figure it out in the morning.”

“Fifi! Aiden! Get the toys picked up and come on. It’s almost time to go,” Colette calls to the kids in the back of the café. Wookiee tails them, barking and jumping with joy at his new playmates. He stops right at Snack’s feet, sits, and looks up at him. Snack reaches down and picks him up. Wook let Snack hold him without growling or whining. He
never
lets Henry hold him. He barely allows Henry to pet him. Evidently, Snack can also charm beasts as well as women. “Wow, since when did you become The Yorkie Whisperer?”

“Minnie, did you forget how crazy awesome I am with animals. Remember how much Eggroll loved me? Huh?”

He’s killing me. Great with kids
and
animals. I could have sworn I didn’t have a biological clock, but I do because he just wound it up.

Snack holds Wookiee like a small furry football as he tells his kids to get their coats and hats. The kids go and get their jackets from the table where they were sitting and put them on independently using the “preschool flip” method. Running back toward us, Aiden pleads. “Puh-lease, can Wookiee go home with us?” Fifi bounces up and down with her hands together, chanting, “Please, please, please, please.”

I’m saved from being the bad guy when Snack tells them, “Wookiee needs to stay with his mom but you’ll see him soon.

“Tomorrow.” I promise them. “You can have breakfast with him.” Aiden jumps up and down at the news. I can still detect a bit of a pout on Fifi’s face.

My dad assists Colette with her coat and the two of them hustle the kids out the door, but only after Aiden and Fifi both give Snack and Wookiee kisses. Just before they are about to exit, Aiden runs back and hugs me around the legs. No words. Just a leg hug and a big mini-Snacklike smirk. His sleepy, beautiful blue eyes shine up at me.

“Wow, when did
you
become The Kid Whisperer?” Snack asks.

“Did you forget how crazy awesome I am with… No, I got nothing. The only kid who ever liked me was Sid and he sort of had to, brother and everything, you know.”

“Not the only kid, Minnie.” Snack points his thumb at Aiden walking out the door. “You made him very happy. Well, you and Wookiee here.”

Wookiee barks his agreement.

Snack gives Wookiee a rub behind the ears and places him on the floor, and then he turns away and goes behind the counter. I watch Snack’s gaze drop to the floor as he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

When our parents and the kids are gone, I start picking up dishes that are left around the café and bring them back to the sink behind the counter. Snack puts away cups and plates from a tray. “What else can I do to help?” He hands me a cloth. “Wipe down the tables?”

Snack is being so quiet. Too quiet. I break the silence awkwardly. “You’ve got gorgeous kids. Aiden looks a lot like you, but Fifi…”

Snack sighs and rubs both hands over his face, wiping away a little moisture from his eyes with the last swipe. “Looks like Megan?”

I nod. Oh my God, he’s talking about Megan. His dead wife, Megan. “I know. It’s hard sometimes. Seeing Megan in her little face. I love it. I hate it. Sometimes it makes me ache and other times it’s a precious reminder. The truth is, Minnie… I’m a wreck. A walking freaking disaster. I left my job and moved us back to Downers Grove thinking they could have more stability. I didn’t really think it through. I just couldn’t be in that house anymore. And work. I didn’t want to see everyone’s pitying faces at work. Now, here I am, living at my mom’s house and looking for a new job. I mean, we’re fine financially, we’ll be OK, but… what am I doing? How am I going to raise these two kids on my own?”

He tries to hold back the sadness lumped in his throat. But I hear it in the tremble of his voice. He swallows back some tears and turns away, wiping down the espresso machine. His shoulders move up and down, followed by an exhausted sigh. I go to him and from behind him, take the rag from his hand. I place it on the counter next to us, and turn him around to give him my best impression of a Snackenberg hug. I press the side of my face to his chest and hear his steady heartbeat while I hold him in my arms. It should feel wrong to be this close to him—this intimate—but it doesn’t. It feels… right.