Wrapping the tool belt around my waist, I secure it and wait for Adley to answer.
“Oh no, sir, I don’t like him. He can be grouchy and quite the asshole, but I’m guessing that’s something he gets from you.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. Leave it to Adley to get a dig on my dad without being overly rude. Just as I’m about to crawl under the sink, my dad does something I haven’t heard him do in years. He laughs—a full-bodied, toss-your-head-back laugh.
This I’ve got to see.
I poke my head around the corner, my eyes not quite believing my ears. But there he is, laughing to the point of tears. Adley looks at me, brows raised and a triumphant little smile on her face.
“Oh, shit,” Dad says, trying to stop laughing. “I like her.”
“Everyone likes her.”
Adley grabs a tissue from the end table and hands it to my dad. “Well, not everyone. I don’t think Lincoln’s ex-girlfriend, Rose, likes me.”
Dad cuts a hand through the air. “Eh, who cares? You can’t win ’em all, kid. Have a seat.”
Adley moves a few albums from the couch and sits down. “For the record, I was just kidding. I do like your son, and he’s rarely grumpy or an asshole. He’s a great guy.”
“Yeah, well, he doesn’t get that from me,” Dad says, wiping his face with the Kleenex.
Adley clears her throat and points to a stack of photos. “Got any naked photos of Lincoln in there that I can use against him someday?”
“Oh geez.” I roll my eyes and maneuver my body under the sink, listening to Dad and Adley carry on.
“Oh, I’m sure I’ve got something.”
A couple of minutes later, Adley busts up laughing and comes running into the kitchen.
“Look at you,” she says waving a picture. I sit up and try to snag it from her, but she’s too quick. “Oh no, this one is mine.”
“Hold still,” I say, chuckling. “I can’t see it.”
I grab Adley’s wrist so I can get a good look at the faded picture.
In the photo I’m wearing a pair of white underwear, my mother’s heels, a strand of pearls, and oversized sunglasses. And I’m smiling. I’ve never seen the photo. I tug Adley’s arm so I can get a closer look. My mother is crouched beside me, one arm around my shoulders, smiling for the camera.
I couldn’t have been more than three or four in that picture. Chloe wasn’t even born yet. I’d give anything to remember that day, to know what it felt like to have my parents’ undivided attention, to see them smile and laugh and play with me.
“See if you can find a few more like that,” I say.
Adley’s playful smile turns thoughtful, and she nods. “Here.” She holds the photo out, and I take it.
“I thought this one was yours?”
“Yeah, well, I know where you live, so…” Her playful words hang in the air, and then she bends down and whi
spers, “By the way, you look hot with that tool belt. Maybe you can wear it again later tonight.”
“The tool belt does it for ya, huh?” I say, tugging her down for a kiss.
“You do it for me, but the tool belt helps.”
“Good to know. Now get out of here so I can finish fixing this sink.”
Adley walks away, and I go back to working. She and Dad banter back and forth, and I listen as he tells her stories about various times in my and Chloe’s life. I notice that most of the things he talks about are before shit got real bad, before my mother left.
He tells her about the one and only time we took a family vacation and how much fun we had playing in the pool. But he leaves out the part where Mom got drunk in the hotel lobby, trashed our room, and ultimately got us kicked out. Then he tells Adley about the time I played the lead in the school play, leaving out the part where Mom showed up drunk. I was so nervous to have her there that I messed up my lines. She booed me from her seat, and when we got home that night, she screamed at me for hours. Eventually I got tired of listening to her and walked away. That was a big mistake because Dad grabbed me by the hair, drug me down the hall, and forced me to apologize for the way I’d treated her.