Stranger in Dadland (2 page)

So then I’d thought she meant because Dad always had two-bedroom apartments and Liz felt way too old to share a room with me. But she’d shaken her head and said, “Every year I hope it’ll be different. Like Dad will make time for us. And every year I’m disappointed. Who needs it?”

“But maybe this year
will
be different!” I’d argued.

“I hope so, John,” Liz had said. “I hope you have a great time.”

When Liz had called Dad, I’d secretly picked up the phone in Mom’s room and listened in. Liz had come right out with it: “Dad, I won’t be able to visit this summer.”

Dad hadn’t asked why. He’d just said, “Gee, that’s too bad, Princess.”

“John’s still coming, though,” she’d said. “Aren’t you, John?”

Caught! How’d she know I was on the line? I’d been silent as death! “Uh—yeah,” I’d stammered. “Sure I’m coming.” Then I’d added a “Can’t wait!”

And here I was. I looked over at my dad and he asked, “And your mother? How’s she?”

“She’s good too,” I said over the roar.

He nodded, satisfied, I guess. If it had been Liz driving alone with him, I suppose he would have been satisfied by a “He’s good” about me.

Dad gave the valet his car keys and led me into a restaurant. A woman with blonde hair was waiting at a table. When she saw us, she started to get up, but then sat back down.

As Dad steered me toward that woman’s table, my gut sank. “Sorry we’re late,” he said, kissing her on the lips. “Cora, this is the Big Guy.”

“Hi, John,” Cora said. “It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard
soooo
much about you.”

I tried to smile, wondering if I was supposed to lie and say I’d heard about her too.

I looked at the menu. Wednesday’s special was a cheeseburger. When I commented that it cost a gazillion times more than at McDonald’s, Cora said that it would taste “at least a
gazillion
times better.” She said
gazillion
like she thought it was the most hilarious word she’d ever heard.

We ordered, then waited forever for the food to come. Cora asked me some questions, like how my flight was, and whether I was enjoying summer vacation, but mostly she and Dad talked while I looked around. The restaurant was trying to seem old and shabby, but in a bright new way. The waiters wore neckties with pink flowers on them. Very L.A.

Dad looked the same as always—tan, tall, happy. I glanced at Cora and realized that her eyebrows weren’t made of hair. They were
drawn
on. I wondered if she’d shaved off her real eyebrows or if she’d been born without them.

When the food came, Cora took a wad of gum out of her mouth, wrapped it in a tissue, and stuck it in her purse. How many gobs of gum did she have in there? I pictured her pulling her hand out and having gum glommed onto each fingertip, stretching like pizza cheese. Maybe her eyebrows had gotten caught in her gum!

“Oh!” Cora said, seeing me smile. “Wanna hear a cute joke, John?”

The word
cute
made me suspicious.

Cora cleared her throat, sat up straighter, and said, “Why don’t cannibals eat clowns?”

“Why?” Dad asked.

“Because they taste funny!” Cora said, cracking up.

I wanted to groan, but Dad was smiling, so I smiled too. I wondered if I would’ve liked the joke more if someone else had told it.

The meal dragged on long after Dad and I had finished our burgers. Cora just kept pushing her food around, taking microscopic mouse nibbles now and then.

I was eager to see Dad’s new apartment. He called it his “pool pad.” A swim sounded great, and I was ready to go.

I looked at Dad and he winked at me. I hoped that meant he knew I was dying to leave, but when the waiter asked if he wanted more coffee, Dad said, “Sure.”

“How was your burger?” Cora asked me.

I shrugged. “It was okay.”

Finally, Dad pushed his chair back, fanned a bunch of twenty-dollar bills out on the table, and got up to leave. I jumped to my feet.

“Whoa there, Big Guy!” Dad said. “I’ve got to get to a meeting. Cora has graciously taken the afternoon off—just to help us out.” He and Cora exchanged smiles. Then Dad said, “She’ll run you back to the apartment for me and I’ll meet you there later. Fair enough?”

I sat back down, smiled as if it were no big deal, and said, “Fair enough.” I should’ve gotten an Oscar for
that
performance!

Cora finished her coffee. “Your father’s quite a guy,” she gushed. “You’re a lucky boy.”

I cranked out another smile.

She stuck a fresh stick of gum in her mouth and offered me one—which I declined.

“He was so excited about your visit,” she said. “That’s
all
he could talk about.”

I tried to believe her.

“It was so cute how worried he was about what you’d want to do while you were here. He was scared you’d be bored and all that. It was sweet.”

That’s when I knew she was totally full of it. No way would Dad worry about stuff like that.

Cora said she didn’t have any small bills to tip the valet, so I had to lend her two dollars to get her car back. Then she turned on the car radio and out came
Muzak.
She didn’t gag or retch or even change the station! She hummed along, cracking her gum. Sheesh.

We parked underground, and Cora led me up a flight of stairs. When we got to the top, she punched a number code to unlock the door. She knew it by heart. The door opened on a U-shaped courtyard surrounding a swimming pool.

We walked along a balcony corridor. There was only one person out. He was leaning over the railing, right in our way. When he saw us, he grinned and said, “Hey, John. How ya doing?” I was confused. How’d this kid know my name?

“John, this is Beau Lubeck,” Cora said, as if that explained everything.

“What took you so long?” Beau asked with a goofy smile. “I thought your plane came in at noon!”

Cora answered for me. “We stopped for lunch at the
Ivy!
” The way she said it, I could tell it was supposed to be a hot spot.

“Cool,” Beau said, nodding. He and Cora obviously knew
each other, and Beau clearly knew way more about me than I knew about him—which was easy, of course, since I knew
zip
about him.

I watched the numbers on the doors we passed. I knew Dad’s apartment was 216 because I’d sent him a Father’s Day card. Sure enough, that’s where Cora stopped. She took out a key and opened the door. I wondered whether it was her own key or Dad had lent it to her for today.

Beau loped inside right along with us. He was taller than me—no surprise there—but he looked about my age. He showed me the guest room, where I was going to sleep.

Then the kitchen. He opened the fridge and said, “There’s never anything in here.” From there he went back to the living room, clicked on the TV, and started listing off the cable channels we could get. He said
we
as if he lived here. Did he? Did Cora? Was Beau Cora’s son? They didn’t look alike. Beau was long and bony. Cora was sort of round and springy-looking. If they both fell off the balcony, I thought, Beau would shatter and Cora would bounce.

Beau was still telling me about the apartment. Something about the elevator not working. Cora took off her shoes and picked up a magazine. She chewed her gum with her mouth open. I hate that.

“Wanna go swimming?” Beau asked me.

That’s when I realized my suitcase was still in Dad’s car.

“No sweat,” Beau said. “I can lend you a suit.”

I didn’t want to borrow this kid’s trunks; I was sure I’d look dorky in them. But it was hot and I really wanted to swim. I also wanted to see where Beau kept his clothes. At
least I’d find out if he lived here. I couldn’t
ask
, because then he’d know I didn’t know squat about who Dad lives or-doesn’t live with. So I said okay.

Beau bolted out the door.

Cora looked up from her magazine and said, “Beau lives a few doors down. It’ll just take him a second.” One mystery solved.

“Can I use the phone?” I asked, remembering that I’d promised to call when I got in.

Cora giggled at me. “Of course you can! It’s your phone!”

My phone? Yeah, I guessed since this was my dad’s apartment, it was kinda mine too. “Where is it?”

Cora pointed to the coffee table right under her nose, but I didn’t want to use
that
phone. I hesitated, then asked, “Is there another one?”

“It’s a cordless,” Cora said, cracking her gum. “You can take it in another room if you need
privacy.
”

My sister, Liz, answered. “How’s the Phantom?” she asked.

“He’s at a meeting,” I mumbled.

“Surprise, surprise,” Liz said sympathetically. “Bobbie still around?”

“She has morphed into
Cora
,” I whispered. “She’s here now.”

Liz groaned. “Well, be brave,” she said. “Here’s Mom.”

“Be brave about
what?
” Mom asked, instantly alarmed.

“Nothing.”

“I was expecting your call
hours
ago! Is everything okay?”

I rolled my eyes. Mom—always ready to worry.

*   *   *

After I’d reassured Mom that all was well, and promised to call her the next day, I changed into Beau’s trunks. They were too big on me, of course, and I looked stupid. I was afraid I’d swim right out of them, but somehow they hung on, and the water felt great. I may not be so hot at stuff like basketball and soccer, but I can sure swim. Beau could go farther than me without taking a breath, but when we raced using no arms, then using no legs, I beat him both times.

While we were floating around between races, I asked Beau what grade he was in. He said, “Going into eighth.” I told him I was going into seventh, and he didn’t act snotty that I was younger. But maybe he already knew that from my dad.

Suddenly, a teenaged-looking guy in shorts came hauling down the stairs, ran to the far edge of the pool, and dove in. He swam underwater toward us, then dragged Beau under. It seemed way longer than a regular dunk before Beau popped to the surface, sputtering and cursing.

The kid swam back to the other end of the pool, leaving Beau clinging to the side with his chest heaving. When he had the wind, Beau called out, “You cretin!” But the other boy was already out of the pool and on his way upstairs. He-didn’t even turn around.

Beau looked at me and muttered, “My brother.”

“Your
brother?
”

Beau nodded. “One of them,” he said. “The ugly one.” Then he smiled a half smile.

“He almost killed you,” I said.

“Harsh fellow, that Eric,” Beau agreed. “My folks say he’s been trying to kill me since the day I was born.” He shrugged as if it were no biggie. “I figure if he
really
wanted to kill me, he would’ve succeeded by now.”

I laughed because Beau did.

Then I saw Dad leaning over the railing, waving down at me. Or at me and Beau. “Hey, guys!” he called.

“Hay is for horses,” Beau called back. Dad laughed at that corny old line.

I started to climb out of the pool, but Dad put his hand up to stop me and said, “I’ll just change and be right down.”

This would be a good time for Beau to get lost, I thought. I’d been here for hours and still hadn’t really seen my dad alone. But if Dad was bringing Cora down to the pool with him, it wouldn’t matter whether Beau was gone or not. I clenched my fists, imagining a whole week with eyebrowless Cora. Liz may have hated Dad’s girlfriend last year, but I thought Cora, with her key to Dad’s apartment, and the way she planted herself down as if she owned the place, was way worse than Bobbie.

Dad came down—alone, thank goodness—wearing mirrored sunglasses and a robe over his bathing suit, looking like Mr. Hollywood. He was loaded with supplies: a drink with clinking ice, a newspaper, his cell phone. He scraped a chair over to one of the umbrellas and sat down. “How’s the water?” he asked.

“Great!” I answered. “Come on in!”

“Maybe later,” Dad said, dialing his phone.

“Liar!” Beau teased. Then he told me, “He’s
never
put a toe in here. Not one toe!”

My face got hot. I didn’t know my own father doesn’t swim, but Beau did. Same as he knew what cable stations Dad got and that there wasn’t anything in his fridge. And this Beau kid just called my dad a
liar
without batting an eye!

I was suddenly sick of swimming, but what was I supposed to do? Go sit under the umbrella with Dad? Go upstairs and hang around watching Cora chew gum? I sat on the edge of the pool.

“Race you with one arm and one leg,” Beau offered.

“Nah, I’m just gonna sit awhile.”

“You okay? You breathing okay?” Beau asked.

He knew about my
asthma?
My father had told this complete stranger about my
asthma?
I seethed with sudden hatred. I hated Beau. I wished his brother
had
drowned him.

“We’ve gotta go pretty soon,” Dad called over to me—or to
us
; I couldn’t tell.

“Go where?” I asked, hoping he meant just him and me.

“Cora’s sister invited us to her birthday barbecue,” Dad said. “Supposed to be there sixish.”

I sighed. Cora. Why had I thought this trip would be any different than the rest? They’d all been nonstop busy, with some girlfriend always around.

I wished my sister was here. By now she would’ve grilled Cora and Beau and we’d know exactly how they fit into Dad’s life. She’d also know that I felt like spit and she’d kid me out of it.

I remembered the plane ride home from our visit last year. When I’d said, “But we never really
saw
him,” Liz had answered, “Phantom Father! Tune in next summer as the mystery continues!” And she had pulled her blanket up around her face like a Dracula cape.

Beau hauled himself out of the pool and grabbed his towel. “When are you gonna be back?” he asked.

Dad shrugged. “Late, probably.”

Beau nodded, and I hated him a little less because he-wasn’t coming with us. He pointed a foot at me and said, “So, what are you doing tomorrow?”

I looked at Dad.

“I’ll be in meetings all morning,” Dad said. “I guess you guys could go to the beach or something.”