A Striking Resemblance

As I was about to leave, Gus approached me and followed me to my car.

"I want to take Shannon out for dinner on Saturday. I'm not exactly sure what her mother worked out with you. I know you're a nurse, not a babysitter, but would you mind watching Lucinda for a few hours? We're just going to eat and then come right back. To be honest, I'm not sure if I'll even be able to convince Shannon of that. She doesn't like to be away from the baby. Even seeing her therapist is an issue, and she rushes back to see Lucinda as soon as her session is over."

I smiled. "I think my job here is a little, I don't know, loosely defined. I'd be happy to stay with the baby while you go out. The two of you deserve some time to yourselves. I'll see you Saturday. Have a good night, Gus."

I drove over to see Haliaka and dad. I didn't notice it until I was sitting in their driveway, but I had grown more irritated with every mile I drove to get there. I was actually relieved that my stepmother was there, but Dad wasn't. She was making huli-huli chicken, which I felt was a little on the nose. She didn't have to make a Hawaiian dish just because she was Polynesian. It almost felt like pandering.

"You know, you don't have to do all of this because of his obsessions. The man is in his sixties. He can grow up a little and drop the affectations."

She stopped what she was doing, turned and stared at me with a confused look. "Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?"

I rolled my eyes. Huli-huli chicken? What's next, are you going to wrap some pork in banana leaves and bury it in the backyard under hot stones? Dad grew up in Northern California. He lives in Pueblo. How long was he in Hawaii? A few years? He's built his entire identity around it and it's irritating."

Haliaka sucked in the corner of her lower lip between her teeth and shook her head while watching me. "I'm making the chicken because my mother taught me how to make it, we had it every Sunday and I had a really crappy day at work. It makes me happy. I feel closer to her when I make her recipes. Is that okay? Should I give you a call in advance and clear my menu with you? What's wrong, Shelley?"

Taking a deep breath, I stared at the ground for a moment before replying. "I don't know. I didn't...I'm sorry. It's none of my business what you make. This isn't about you. To be honest, I don't really know what it's about. It's just that Dad is always, I don't know. He's great. He really is. But that's now. He's my dad, and I'm always going to need him, but I'm far from being a kid. Where was he then?

"I was with some people today. Three of them, all fathers. A grandfather, the father, and his son. They've had it rough. The stuff they've had to deal with, well, it was a lot. But you know what was clear? They were, they are, and they always will be there for each other. Regardless of what else is going on, or how difficult it might be, they were there. Maybe they didn't have the right words, or a lot of money, but they supported each other, they loved one another and they were present.

"Until I was driving over here, I didn't realize that it was eating at me. I was a kid, Haliaka. Where was he? You know he's a legend, right? The bands that he represented, the people that worked for him, he was larger-than-life. He was a legend, and they looked up to him. You know why? Because he took care of them. They knew that if there was an issue, they could turn to him. If he represented you, he always had your back.

"Well, I was his daughter. Maybe if he had me under contract, he would've been there for me, too."

I saw the reflected pain in her eyes, the sympathy and empathy displayed showing me that at least I was heard. I didn't know why all of this was bubbling up now, but it felt as if some dark, hidden fissure far below the surface of my psyche was widening and cracks were building. Haliaka was blinking rapidly as she looked over my shoulder. Turning, I saw Dad at the doorway. It wasn't him. It wasn't the larger-than-life shark who was capable of intimidating all of the monsters in the shadows and handling everybody's problems. Instead, I saw an old man. An old and broken man. I had no idea how much he had heard, but it was clearly too much.

I walked over and hugged him, leaning close and whispering.

"I'm sorry, dad. I love you. Sometimes, I just...I've got to go."

I walked past him, back to my car, and headed home.

He had been an addict and for years after he had dealt with his addictions, he had lived in shame. I knew that, but that was the intellectual understanding of an adult. There were times when that knowledge did absolutely nothing for the visceral pain and abandonment of a little girl wondering what she had to do to make her father love her.

Two days later, I was back at Shannon and Gus's home. I had brought two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on cinnamon raisin bread in a brown paper bag for my dinner. When I put it in the refrigerator, Shannon told me that Marianne had been there earlier in the day and had her chef make me chicken with mushrooms in a dijon mustard cream sauce, some green beans almondine, and rice pilaf. I was grateful, I guess, but I couldn't help smiling when I looked at the two separate meals sitting in their fridge. Me and Shannon's mother couldn't live more different lives. Still, it was nice of her.

I was concerned about Dad. It couldn't have been clearer that he was devastated by what I'd said, but it felt as if absences and slights that I thought were long forgotten had just been buried and sat there simmering as if in a pressure cooker. I felt better after letting it out, but a bit guilty. I knew that we would have to talk and do so soon.

Shannon had gone back to their bedroom to continue to get changed for her date with Gus. I had Lucinda with me, and her mother came out to look at her while she put on her earrings. She went back to her room and was soon out to see us again as she slipped on her shoes. When she came out again to keep an eye on the two of us and handed me a piece of paper with her cell phone number, Gus's cell phone number and the restaurant's phone number, I smiled gently and put my hand on her arm.

"Shannon, it's going to be fine. Call me as many times as you want. I already have your phone numbers, but I appreciate the list. Gus's dad and grandpa are right next door if I need anything. Try to stop worrying and have a great time."

I had put the baby down to sleep soon after they left, but after an hour, she woke up and got fussy. I had been listening to some music on Spotify, and when I picked up Lucinda, I soothed her with a constant smooth motion that soon turned into dancing. She was a beautiful baby, and I smiled as I looked down at her in my arms.

Back and forth we went, in the living room and in the kitchen. She was at the stage where she was making cooing noises. Lucinda was louder than I had remembered her being before, and I wondered if the rhythmic movements or the music played a part.

Looking up at the windows that led to the backyard, I saw Steve's reflection as he stood by the front screen door. It seemed as if he was about to knock when he saw me dancing, and instead, stopped to watch.

Smiling, I saw no reason to let him know I knew he was watching and continued, enjoying the way that his eyes followed my every move.

STEVE

There are moments in life when the way that you view the world shifts in the span of a moment. Your perspective had always been set to noon and then, in an instant, it slips to eleven fifty-five. Almost everything in your life remains the same, but there's one or two deep and significant changes. Holding your child for the first time will do that. Coming back home and looking at your old life from the perspective of someone who's been to war will do it. I would imagine that some psychedelic experiences will also force that change.

I'd never seen Shelley move like that, free and joyful. I'd known since the first time I'd seen her that she was an attractive woman, but lots of women are attractive. As I saw her dancing as if she didn't have a care in the world, something shifted in my mind. While I stood there on the porch, Eros approached unseen, stretched out a finger and bopped me in the head. What was the word that they used in period pieces? Besotted. That was it. I was besotted.

I knocked twice and entered the home. Shelley turned, tilted her head and smiled at me. Lifting a finger to her lips, she nodded towards my granddaughter, who was in her arms. She motioned for me to follow her and put Lucinda in her bassinet.

I stood close behind her, near enough to clearly smell her perfume. As she straightened and turned, she seemed surprised by how close I was, but she maintained the smile. She stepped to her left to try to get past me, but I was already moving in that direction to let her by. I chuckled softly, trying not to wake the baby. When we did it again as she stepped to my right, her smile grew wider as she put her hands on her hips, looking up at me in mock consternation. Staring into her eyes, I slipped my arm around her waist and moved even closer. Shelley hesitated for a moment and then raised both of her hands over her head and started swaying to the music that only she could hear. Slowly, she lowered her arms over my shoulders, and I leaned in, my lips headed toward hers.

We heard a car pull into the driveway and the engine cut off.

Dammit, Gus. You couldn't give me five more minutes?

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. There would be other opportunities. As Gus and Shannon entered their home, we walked out to meet them.

Shelley again held up her finger to her lips. "We just put her down. She was a little cranky. You guys got home quick."

Yeah, way too quick.

Gus raised a hand that held a large white paper bag with the image of a dog as a logo. "We went to Mookie's, had a taco there and decided to have the rest at home."

Shannon gently hip checked Gus. "My fault. I wanted to get back and see Lucinda. We got extra tacos. Help yourself."

She brushed past me and walked into the other room to check on her daughter. Me, Gus, and Shelley sat down in the living room and enjoyed some tacos.

Everyone knew Mookie. Most people thought he was a goofball, but the man knew how to make outrageous tacos and he was a great guy.

Once Shannon joined us, she sat on the armrest of Gus's chair, her arm over his shoulder. Their casual, easy affection always eased something inside of me. There had never been a time when it was easy for Gus to make friends. When I realized that that would never change, I grew concerned about other relationships in his life. His time with Shannon had helped to untie those knots in the back of my mind and reassure me that my son would be fine. He loved and, in return, was loved.

Gus used a napkin and waited for the rest of us to finish our tacos. "Um, you don't have to go or anything, but next weekend I will be playing in Santa Fe. A senator is retiring, and he was in the Corps back in the eighties. He wanted us playing at his retirement party, and I guess senators get what they want. Shannon wants to go, and it will be a pretty easy road trip. I was hoping that someone could go with her?"

"Gus, how long have you known about this?"

"A few weeks."

I shook my head in wonderment. "Of course we're going to want to go. It's the weekend, so there shouldn't be any issues, but it would help if you could give us as much advanced warning as possible next time. I'm sure your grandfather's going to want to go, and probably Kate. Shannon, do you think your dad would want to go?"

She nodded. "Probably. As long as my brothers don't have a soccer tournament, I'm pretty sure he'll be there."

I smiled. "We're probably going to wind up with a caravan."

Both Shelley and I left soon after, leaving the young couple time to be alone. I walked slowly. Actually, I was dawdling, trying to find a way to invite Shelley in. Finally, she took care of that problem.

"Steve, you ever have one of those days where it's just a lot? Some good, some bad, but all of it turning out to be exhausting? Maybe, I don't know, maybe next week we could get dinner or something?"

I smiled. "Mookie's tacos?"

"The straight stuff," she laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised if when the strike is over, they make us all pee in a cup. I've heard about Mookie's THC salsa."

I didn't think it mattered. Pot was legal in Colorado. I wasn't going to argue. "Deal. Mookie's straight tacos. We'll talk Monday morning."

Everyone came over for supper the next day so they could see Gus off before he headed to the airport. As always, Pop manned the grill, cooking up seafood. Kate helped out by making side dishes, and Ethan brought some desserts. While in high school, Gus worked at a repair shop, working mostly on small engines and yard equipment. He grew close to the Progietti's, the older couple that owned the shop. We invited them, and they were excited to see him.

Gus had always gotten along better with people considerably older than he was. His former boss and his wife thought of him as a surrogate grandson and had offered to sell him the business when he returned to Pueblo. Mrs. McLarty was the closest thing that Gus had to a grandmother, and she left him her house after her passing. He loved all three of them and would move heaven and earth to help them.

To no one's surprise, Lucinda was the star of the show.

Everyone had a good time, even Marianne, who probably spent more on her lunch every day than we had on the food for everyone. I kept a close eye on Pop and when he sat down heavily in his chair near the grill, Kate nodded towards him. I nodded back and walked over.

"Hey, why don't I keep an eye on this for a while?"

"All of a sudden you don't like my cooking?"

"No. All of a sudden I don't like your limping. Are you taking those pain pills they gave you?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

"You're not fine, you stubborn goat. You're not twenty-five anymore. Just do what the doctors tell you."

"Yeah, I'm just horrible with all that doctor crap." He leaned forward and rapped his knuckles against my hip, causing me to flinch. "Unlike you, who went and saw a doctor about that. You did, right? I mean, you're not such a hypocritical prick that you're gonna bust my chops when you didn't even see a doctor, right?"

I truly hated it when he was right.

"Don't start coming at me with things like facts, old man."

He laughed and lit up a cigar. "Fine. You want to watch the grill, watch the grill."

Pop reached over, wrapped an arm around Kate's waist, and pulled her onto his lap. I shook my head, happy that the chair didn't collapse.

I was at work Monday morning when I saw Shelley arrive. I wrapped up what I was discussing with my guys and headed over to the picket line. She had gotten to the folding table with all of their paperwork while carrying a container of coffee and was with some guy who had boxes of doughnuts. I'd noticed that they'd begun bulking up on the morning doughnuts and were using them to leverage better engagement with the public.

Stop and listen to their spiel? Get a free pastry. Genius move in my book.

"Morning. Would tonight work for Mookie's? Around six?"

When she smiled, I felt an echo of what I had when I saw her dancing. Whatever had switched on in my brain was still active and strong.

"Sure. That works for me. Steve Kirschbaum, this is Aaron Briscoe. Aaron, meet Steve. Aaron's a nurse here."

The man seemed friendly enough, and I shook his hand. He looked at me curiously for a second.

"Are you Pop's son? He's mentioned you a couple of times. How's he doing?"

I looked from Shelley back to Aaron. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. If he stops by today, could you do me a favor and make up an excuse to keep him seated at the table? He thinks he's still that young kid that could chew through iron and wrestle giants. He's still hurting, but won't admit it."

Aaron raised an eyebrow. "I have friends who work at the hospital that treated the other guys. There were five of them and he walked away with a lot less damage than they did. Maybe he still can wrestle giants."

I smiled and laughed. "Maybe. Still, if you can keep an eye on him, I'd appreciate it. Shelley, I'll meet you there tonight?"

As I walked away, I heard her softly telling Aaron about how Pop hadn't been alone and it was actually the two of us against those mouthy jackasses.

We did meet for dinner that night, and I thought that she was trying to impress me with the level of heat she could take with her salsa. She cleared up that misconception when she explained that she hadn't been able to get seriously spicy food since the last time she had Thai in Los Angeles.

We had a good time. It wasn't like being with Emily. She had been a roller-coaster, adventure, something big and exciting always around the corner. Shelley also wasn't someone like Marianne, where I'd always feel as if I had to be on my toes and was performing every moment we were together. It just felt...natural. Conversation flowed easily and silences were reflective, not awkward.

She reverted back to her normal overnight hours and still came over for breakfast a few times that week. I had backed off the intensity and didn't push things. It had struck me that it could be disastrous if I tried to pursue something with her and it went wrong in a bad way. She was still watching my granddaughter on an almost daily basis.

We had a good time in each other's company, and I was sure that everyone could tell that there was something between us, but I decided to leave it there until the strike was over and she was back at the hospital.

Everyone was excited for our ad hoc road trip and tailgating on Friday. There were ten Marine field bands stationed across the US and Gus's was chosen to play for this senator because of proximity. There was going to be a large public event on Saturday, and everyone would be able to attend. They had a private reception scheduled for Friday evening, and me and pop were able to use our background as Marines to get tickets. Liz's partner at her law firm, Judge Sallister, knew the senator and was able to get a few extra tickets. We were working on getting invitations to the private closing ceremony on Sunday, but even if we couldn't swing that we knew that we would at least be able to get lunch or dinner with Gus before they flew back.

Marianne and her husband catered the road trip, because of course they did. Everything was in brand-new coolers in the trunk of her Mercedes. They had the fixings for roasted chicken breast sandwiches with a garlic aioli, various salads, fresh squeezed juices, water in glass bottles and desserts from a chocolatier. It was just who she was, so I smiled, shook my head and continued helping to load up luggage in my and Pop's trunk. The two of us were astonished by how much people packed for a three-day trip.

Shelley sidled up to me while keeping an eye on Marianne's car. She handed me a small cooler bag. "Can I keep this in your trunk?"

"Sure, what's in it?"

Shelley rolled her eyes. "It sure as hell isn't custom confections or thirty dollar a pound chicken sandwiches. It's PB&J on cinnamon raisin bread. What did you bring?"

Smiling, I leaned down and spoke softly. "A bag of pretzels and some Snapple."

We both laughed, everyone got in their cars, and we headed off.

This drive was clearly a big deal to Marianne. I had assumed that it was so far out of her wheelhouse that it was an adventure to her. There was a park that was halfway between Pueblo and Santa Fe, and she had us stop for a picnic. When she had all of the food spread out, the checkered tablecloth on the wooden table and everyone's cup full of juice, she looked around triumphantly with a smile on her face as if she had just scaled Everest. Everyone thanked her, and I had to be honest, I didn't think she was looking for praise. She truly was trying to do something kind for the people that she cared about.