Read The You I've Never Known Page 4


  In fact, she turns over. Maybe

  now I can finally get some sleep.

  “You were sleeping before.

  I know because you snore.”

  Lo sé, she sighs. Get used to it.

  She sighs again, dips into slumber.

  I lie back against my pillow,

  inhaling the cologne of sun-toasted

  skin and coconut oil lifting off

  her shiny black satin hair. The scent

  rustles leaves of memory in a forest

  too dark to enter. Longing, not sexual,

  but more a need for connection

  stirs, upwelling suddenly at Monica’s

  dream-driven sigh. Novia. Te necesito.

  I Wake Again

  This time to a window bright

  with sunlight and some foreign

  movement disturbing my sheets.

  Monica. Yes. Everything comes

  tumbling back in one moment

  of clear consciousness. “Morning.”

  Still prone on the floor, Syrah

  peeks up through heavy lashes.

  Oh, man. My mouth tastes like

  rotten potatoes. And I need coffee.

  Monica sits up beside me. Coffee?

  Si, lo quiero también. And I’m starving.

  Wish we had leftover tamales instead

  of pigging out on them last night.

  “You guys actually drink coffee?

  Like, to wake up in the morning?

  The only way I can choke it down is

  cut with cream and enough sugar

  to trigger a diabetic coma.”

  I vow to attempt the Mr. Coffee anyway,

  and we pad to the kitchen in our pj’s.

  My pj’s, actually, as neither Monica nor

  Syrah brought theirs to the impromptu

  slumber party. Both fight the extra

  leg length, especially Syrah, who says,

  Jeez, Ariel. How tall are you, anyway?

  “Five ten plus. Hopefully I’m done

  growing now. As my dad always says,

  it’s hard for tall girls to find dates.”

  Maybe dates with boys, corrects

  Monica. Personally, I kind of like

  my women built like Amazons.

  Shut up! exclaims Syrah. Listen,

  I am a total ally. But here’s the deal.

  I really don’t want to hear details.

  That’s ’cause you’re dumb, says

  Monica. The details are the best

  part. She’s claimed the Mr. Coffee,

  located the Folgers, and poured water

  into the reservoir. You got filters?

  It takes a couple of cupboard

  explorations to find them, and

  while I’m looking it occurs to me

  that I wouldn’t trade my Freak

  Club friends for membership

  in the Popular Pack, even without

  a required BJ initiation. Monica’s

  queer, Syrah swears she’s not, but

  she doesn’t judge or question or get

  all fake about liking Monica anyway.

  And neither has insisted I declare

  myself gay, straight, or just confused.

  I’m Confused

  About a lot of things,

  including the coffee-

  making process, but

  I am totally clear on

  how to make a killer

  omelet for three, and

  that’s what I’m working

  on when Dad and Zelda

  materialize, scarlet-eyed

  and crazy-haired. They

  must have gotten past

  bickering long enough

  to engage in (yeesh!)

  creepy old-people sex.

  I don’t care what that

  involves, don’t want to

  consider the visuals.

  The vague smell of

  rutting is more than

  enough to stimulate

  a gigantic yuck factor.

  Morning, girls, says Dad.

  Smelled the coffee and

  thought we’d come help

  ourselves. That okay?

  When we agree that it

  is, he comes over and

  nudges me. When did you

  start drinking coffee, anyway?

  I could say I didn’t really,

  that this pot was mostly

  meant for my friends.

  Instead, I tell him, “This

  seemed like as good a day

  as any. Seventeen and

  still a coffee virgin? I’d

  never live that down.”

  Seventeen? When did that

  happen? He grins like a total

  goober. Oh. That’s right. Today’s

  your birthday, isn’t it? Well,

  happy, happy, Ari Fairy.

  “Dad!” Inevitable laughter

  spills from the mouths

  of my so-called friends.

  Nothing to do but laugh

  along with them. “God, Dad,

  I’m not, like, four anymore.”

  Too bad, too. You were such

  an adorable little girl. He

  watches Zelda pour coffee

  and put two spoons of sugar

  in each mug. What the hell

  do you think you’re doing?!

  All Laughter

  And pleasant conversation

  brake to a complete standstill.

  Zelda freezes. What do you

  mean? What did I do now?

  You put all that goddamn sugar

  in my coffee. What the fuck for?

  Zelda’s jaw drops. But Mark,

  you always put sugar in your coffee.

  Only in the sludge they serve

  in town. I told you before . . .

  Her head is twisting side to side.

  Are you saying no milk, either?

  That’s exactly what I’m saying.

  I don’t know why you’re acting

  like this is some big surprise.

  It’s not like we haven’t had coffee

  at home before. Brew Folgers right,

  no need to make it fucking sweet.

  “Here, I’ll take the one with sugar,”

  I offer, mostly to make them shut up.

  What a Strange Exchange

  It’s unsettling, and I really wish

  they’d stop. Monica and Syrah

  are trying not to participate as

  spectators, but that’s pretty hard.

  “Eggs are done. You guys want

  to eat outside?” I don’t wait for

  them to answer because I know

  they must be as uncomfortable

  as I am. I divide the omelet into

  three portions, put them on paper

  plates, and hand them out. “Don’t

  forget your coffee.” I grab my own

  syrupy cup, and we head off for

  our alfresco dining experience.

  We’ve barely cleared the door

  when Monica says, What was that

  all about? How long have they been

  together? Like, six months?

  You’d think she’d know how your

  dad likes his coffee by now, right?

  I settle into a chair, take a bite

  before I answer. “No one said

  she’s the brightest bulb, but yeah,

  seems like she ought to by now.”

  Well, I’m not positive, but it looked

  like your dad wanted to pick a fight,

  says Syrah. Is he always so argumentative?

  And what about that Ari Fairy thing?

  My face ignites. “He hasn’t called

  me that since I was really little.

  He just wanted to embarrass me.

  And yes, he enjoys a good argument.”

  Saying it out loud makes me realize
<
br />   just how true the statement is.

  Sometimes he insists things are

  honest-to-God facts, when I know

  they’re not. It’s like a big game

  for him. Regular entertainment.

  The point is to make his opponent

  question her beliefs. Maybe even

  her sanity. I use the feminine

  pronoun because it’s almost

  always a female he coerces

  into playing. That includes me.

  I take a sip of coffee, now cooled

  to lukewarm. “Hey. This isn’t bad. I

  don’t get what Dad was griping

  about.” Actually, now I consider it,

  I think Zelda was right. I remember

  sneaking a sip of his coffee a couple

  of times. It was always sweet.

  And milky. It reminded me of hot

  cocoa, only made with coffee ice

  cream. Has he really changed

  the way he drinks his Folgers?

  Never mind. I already know

  the answer. But why mess with

  Zelda, and why exactly then?

  I wish I could figure out the rules

  to Dad’s confounding games.

  What I do know is if you call him

  on his bullshit, first thing he does

  is deny he ever said it in the first

  place. If that doesn’t work, he’ll swear

  you misunderstood. And if you still

  hold your ground, he’ll go all-out

  verbal attack, doing his best to

  convince you that you’re victimizing

  him. If you don’t back off then, things

  can progress quickly to physical

  violence. I learned the hard way

  to zip it sooner rather than later.

  But Then Comes

  The inevitable apology,

  and it’s always so sincere

  there’s no possible way

  not to forgive him.

  He swears everything

  he does, he does for me,

  and how can I not

  believe him, when

  he loves me more

  than life itself—

  another regular vow.

  Up to a point,

  I understand where

  his cruel streak began.

  As a soldier, he saw things

  that, God willing, I’ll never see—

  flesh-chewed corpses

  and people left living,

  but missing limbs

  or lacking intact brains.

  So, yeah, I cut him

  a lot of slack, and anyway,

  he’s been around the block

  a time or two, as the saying

  goes. He knows things

  I’ve yet to learn,

  so I listen to his advice,

  even when it confuses me.

  Omelet Finished

  We’re still sitting outside

  in my pj’s, warmed by tepid

  October sunshine,

  when Garrett and Keith

  go chug-chugging by,

  headed toward town.

  Garrett honks, Keith opens

  his window long enough to

  give us the finger, and Syrah

  says, Hell yeah! Now I can say

  those assholes saw me in lingerie.

  I still have a chance at popularity.

  That cracks me up, and Monica

  actually spits out a mouthful

  of coffee. Lingerie! Oh, baby,

  these are some sexy jammies.

  She pronounces the j like

  an h, Spanish language–style.

  Probably the sexiest hammies

  those boys have ever seen, at

  least on real flesh-and-blood girls.

  Porn star bitches don’t count.

  “Girl, I happen to be attached

  to these pahamas, and at least

  they know we wear them. They

  probably fantasized all night

  about the naked lesbian party

  happening just down the road.

  Hey. You think they spotted

  the Popov bottle in back?”

  We decide that’s highly unlikely,

  considering their general state

  of awareness. “And that stinking

  exhaust is so loud, I doubt

  they’d hear it rolling around.”

  Oh, says Syrah. What time is it,

  anyway? I’m supposed to be at

  work by eleven. They’ve got me

  doing the lunch shift today.

  She waits tables at the Diamondback

  Grill. Best cheeseburgers in town.

  “It’s probably around ten.

  We were up a little after nine.”

  Much later than I usually get up.

  I’m an early riser for the most part.

  Can I catch a ride? asks Monica.

  My brother said he’d pick me up,

  but I could be waiting forever.

  “So sorry my company sucks.”

  I pout, pretending to be hurt.

  But I get it. Dad and Zelda

  are way too present inside.

  I Expect Zelda

  To hang out all day, in fact.

  She usually stays the weekend.

  So I’m surprised when she asks

  for a ride back into town with

  Syrah. Not sure if it’s because

  of the earlier stress or what.

  She claims something else.

  My nephew’s coming to visit

  for a while. His father passed

  away recently, and my sister’s

  having a real tough time dealing

  with everything. I want you to

  meet Gabe. You two will get along.

  We’re waiting for Monica

  and Syrah to exit my bedroom

  dressed in something other

  than hammies. “I’m sorry,”

  I tell her, because that’s what

  you say to someone dealing

  with a loss, even peripherally.

  “Is Gabe going to go to SHS?”

  No. He’s nineteen. Your dad

  said he’d try and get him on

  at the shop. Gabe’s a pretty good

  mechanic himself. And this might

  sound weird, coming from his old

  aunt, but he’s easy on the eyes.

  Awesome

  She wants to set me up with

  her nephew, who’s too old,

  too greasy, and too connected

  to Zelda to possibly be the man

  of my dreams, as if I’m dreaming

  about men to start with. But since

  she’s being nice, and since I feel

  sorry for the way Dad talked to her

  earlier, I find myself agreeing to stop

  by her house tomorrow after practice

  to meet him. “As long as I can

  convince Syrah to give me a ride.”

  She offers a knowing smile.

  I hear you’ll be able to drive

  yourself around pretty soon.

  I stop my eyes mid-roll. “Really?

  How’s that supposed to happen?”

  I don’t have a license, not to mention

  a vehicle. Zelda lowers her voice.

  I’m not supposed to say anything,

  but Mark’s been looking at used cars.

  Before she can say more, Dad

  comes blustering down the hall.

  He looks at Zelda. Ready to go?

  She Holds Up One Hand

  As if to say stop. No worries.

  You don’t have to take me.

  Ari’s friend offered to give

  me a ride home. Oh . . .

  She glances at me nervously.

  Is it okay to call you Ari?

  I’m not big on nicknames,

  but
at least she asked,

  and it kind of feels warm.

  I’d say like family, but that’s

  something I don’t have much

  experience with. I start to tell

  her it’s fine, but before I can open

  my mouth, Dad interjects,

  No, it’s not okay, it’s way

  too goddamn familiar.

  She’s my daughter and

  I don’t even call her Ari.

  Unless he attaches

  “Fairy” to it, apparently,

  but I’m not jumping into

  this round of his game

  except to say, “I don’t mind,”

  disregarding the eye arrows

  he shoots in my direction.

  Zelda Ducks Them, Too

  Choosing to use my un-nicked

  name. Anyway, I’ll go ahead

  and ride back into town with

  Ariel’s friends so I don’t

  interrupt your day. I know

  you’ve made other plans.

  Dad scowls. What the hell are

  you talking about, woman? My plan

  was to buy some beer, take you

  home, and watch the Astros game

  at your house. She’s got a big-screen

  TV. We don’t. Houston’s on a roll.

  Zelda shoots me a sympathetic

  glance. It’s your daughter’s

  birthday, Mark. Spend it with her.

  Now you’re telling me what to

  do? But when he notices the hurt

  in my eyes, he says, Fine, goddamn it.

  Stung to the core, tears threaten.

  I push them away. “It’s okay, Dad.

  You watch the game. I’m good.”

  No, no, he backtracks. Zelda’s right.

  A girl only turns seventeen once.

  What would you like to do today?

  Hard Question

  I’m considering my answer

  when Syrah and Monica finally

  appear, dressed in yesterday’s

  clothing, which is wrinkled

  and carries vague essences

  of tamales, vodka, and weed.

  Emphasis on the Mexican food,

  thank goodness, and maybe

  the rest is all in my head. Dad

  and Zelda don’t seem to notice.

  Okay, says Syrah. Better hustle.

  I have to stop at home and change.

  Come by the restaurant later and

  we’ll do something cool for your day.

  Something cool like a sundae?

  asks Monica. ’Cause you can count

  me in! Let me know what time

  if you’re going, okay? I’ll even

  bring the candles. She comes over.

  Gives me a hug.

  A long hug.

  Long enough

  to make me squirm,