met them. David stood, brushing his hands on a handkerchief, and they shook hands. “Going out for the evening, Poe?”
I nodded, indifferent. “Yeah.”
He hesitated. “Where?”
“Theo's house.”
Theo smiled. “Probably dinner, too, Mr. Holly.”
Dad nodded. “Very well.” He stood there awkwardly for a second, then cleared his throat and met my eyes. “Be home by nine, Poe.”
I searched his eyes, and there was an edge in them. “Sure.”
“Bye,” he said, then bent down to the sidewalk.
At the corner, Theo shook his head. “What was that all about?”
“What?”
“Your dad. The way he … I don't know. It was just weird.”
I smiled. “We got in a fight last night.”
“About what?”
I chuckled. “How to be a dad.”
• • •
We walked the mile to Theo's house. On the other side of town and near the outskirts, his family had several acres of land and a fountain outside the circular driveway. The whole place had a rich but ranchy feel to it, like the mansion on that old eighties show
Dallas,
with J. R. Ewing and his stupid cowboy hat. The house was huge, with double doors leading into an entryway as big as our living room. Theo walked in, stopped, and spread his hands out. “Welcome to Rancho Happy Happy. If there's anything you need, click your heels three times and a neurotic and totally high fairy godmother will appear to do your bidding.”
“She can't be that bad.”
“She still cuts the crusts off my sandwiches.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, that bad. Follow me.” Theo led me through the guts of the house, and we came to the kitchen. Platters of snacks and appetizers blanketed granite counters. He picked up a huge cocktail shrimp and stuffed it in his mouth. “Hungry?”
“Sure. What time does the party start?”
He looked at the clock. “People should start arriving in the next few minutes. Of course, the higher your status, the later you have to be. It's a ranking system.”
I picked up something green rolled in strips of tortilla and munched. “Mmm. Good.”
“Rabbit meat inside.”
I stopped chewing.
He laughed. “Joking. My mom got bored one year doing nothing for a living and took a cooking class. The instructor checked himself into a psychiatric ward by the time she finished, but she learned how to be a gourmet appetizer maker.”
I didn't know what to expect when I met her, and I didn't know if I even wanted to, but with a half-dozen shrimp eaten and several more green rolled things gone, Theo's dad walked in. Dark eyes, black hair, and a rugged middle-aged face with jowls greeted me. He looked like he could be on
The Sopranos,
and I saw the resemblance to Theo in his eyes. Shadowed and intense.
He ambled toward me, pale and hairy legs jutting from khaki shorts and a big belly pooching out under an untucked leisure shirt. Four big rings, all gold, decorated hairy knuckled sausages as he held out his hand to me. “Hi. I'm Theo's dad. Or so they say.” He smiled. “Poe, right?”
I shook his hand, automatically liking him. “Yes. Nice to meet you.”
He gazed over the spread. “Looks like you two got a head start on things. Get all the good stuff before the troops arrive.” He picked over the food. “Oooooh. Teriyaki meatballs.” He fingered one from the Crock-Pot and popped it in his mouth, chomping away just like Theo. “So,” he said, his mouth full, “how do you like our fair town?”
“I think it's nice.”
He looked at Theo. “You haven't begun hanging around normal people, have you, son?”
Theo rolled his eyes and smiled. “Don't worry, Pops, she's not normal.”
He eyed me. “I don't know. She sounds awfully normal to me.” He jabbed a finger at me, his eyes twinkling. “You don't breathe fire or suspend yourself upside down at night to sleep, do you?”
“Sorry.”
He nodded, raised his eyebrows, then ambled toward the sliding glass door to the back patio, another meatball pinched between his thick fingers. “I'll be damned.
I nodded, indifferent. “Yeah.”
He hesitated. “Where?”
“Theo's house.”
Theo smiled. “Probably dinner, too, Mr. Holly.”
Dad nodded. “Very well.” He stood there awkwardly for a second, then cleared his throat and met my eyes. “Be home by nine, Poe.”
I searched his eyes, and there was an edge in them. “Sure.”
“Bye,” he said, then bent down to the sidewalk.
At the corner, Theo shook his head. “What was that all about?”
“What?”
“Your dad. The way he … I don't know. It was just weird.”
I smiled. “We got in a fight last night.”
“About what?”
I chuckled. “How to be a dad.”
• • •
We walked the mile to Theo's house. On the other side of town and near the outskirts, his family had several acres of land and a fountain outside the circular driveway. The whole place had a rich but ranchy feel to it, like the mansion on that old eighties show
Dallas,
with J. R. Ewing and his stupid cowboy hat. The house was huge, with double doors leading into an entryway as big as our living room. Theo walked in, stopped, and spread his hands out. “Welcome to Rancho Happy Happy. If there's anything you need, click your heels three times and a neurotic and totally high fairy godmother will appear to do your bidding.”
“She can't be that bad.”
“She still cuts the crusts off my sandwiches.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, that bad. Follow me.” Theo led me through the guts of the house, and we came to the kitchen. Platters of snacks and appetizers blanketed granite counters. He picked up a huge cocktail shrimp and stuffed it in his mouth. “Hungry?”
“Sure. What time does the party start?”
He looked at the clock. “People should start arriving in the next few minutes. Of course, the higher your status, the later you have to be. It's a ranking system.”
I picked up something green rolled in strips of tortilla and munched. “Mmm. Good.”
“Rabbit meat inside.”
I stopped chewing.
He laughed. “Joking. My mom got bored one year doing nothing for a living and took a cooking class. The instructor checked himself into a psychiatric ward by the time she finished, but she learned how to be a gourmet appetizer maker.”
I didn't know what to expect when I met her, and I didn't know if I even wanted to, but with a half-dozen shrimp eaten and several more green rolled things gone, Theo's dad walked in. Dark eyes, black hair, and a rugged middle-aged face with jowls greeted me. He looked like he could be on
The Sopranos,
and I saw the resemblance to Theo in his eyes. Shadowed and intense.
He ambled toward me, pale and hairy legs jutting from khaki shorts and a big belly pooching out under an untucked leisure shirt. Four big rings, all gold, decorated hairy knuckled sausages as he held out his hand to me. “Hi. I'm Theo's dad. Or so they say.” He smiled. “Poe, right?”
I shook his hand, automatically liking him. “Yes. Nice to meet you.”
He gazed over the spread. “Looks like you two got a head start on things. Get all the good stuff before the troops arrive.” He picked over the food. “Oooooh. Teriyaki meatballs.” He fingered one from the Crock-Pot and popped it in his mouth, chomping away just like Theo. “So,” he said, his mouth full, “how do you like our fair town?”
“I think it's nice.”
He looked at Theo. “You haven't begun hanging around normal people, have you, son?”
Theo rolled his eyes and smiled. “Don't worry, Pops, she's not normal.”
He eyed me. “I don't know. She sounds awfully normal to me.” He jabbed a finger at me, his eyes twinkling. “You don't breathe fire or suspend yourself upside down at night to sleep, do you?”
“Sorry.”
He nodded, raised his eyebrows, then ambled toward the sliding glass door to the back patio, another meatball pinched between his thick fingers. “I'll be damned.
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