“Yes. But I couldn’t figure out how to do it from my sitting position without getting pee all over me, so I stood up on the branch. And as I was zipping myself back up, I lost my balance and fell. I whacked my face on a few branches on the way down.” I point to my eyebrow. “Needed four stitches.”
Joni shakes her head, amazed. “You’re lucky you didn’t lose your eye.”
“Tell me about it.” I run my thumb over my scar. “I’ve never told anyone the real story before. Not Meg, not even my mom. I told her I was playing hockey in the street with the kids in the neighborhood and someone accidentally knocked me in the face with a hockey stick. You and I are officially the only people in the world who know the truth.”
Joni fiddles with the spring on the screen door hinge for a minute, chewing on her bottom lip.
I wait.
She steps outside. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.” She starts across the lawn. “And bring the candy.”
Chapter 35
Joni leads the way to a little park. It’s not much more than a small playground, a couple of benches, and a few trees, but the sky is just about dark, and we’re the only ones here. It’s a good spot.
She sits on a bench near a small cluster of old maple trees. Even in the muted streetlight, you can tell the leaves have turned shades of deep red and orange. A few are still green though, like they’re clinging to the summer. Some just went straight to brown. Dead.
I take a seat next to Joni and put Hope’s car seat on my other side, but she’s starting to wake up, so I lift her out and hold her against my chest.
The crying starts immediately. “Sorry,” I tell Joni without looking at her, getting out Hope’s diaper-changing stuff and making quick work of her dirty diaper. I give her a pacifier and put on the Washington Square Park noises, rocking her in my arms and shushing her.
A few minutes later, she’s quieted down.
I can’t really avoid Joni any longer, so I look at her. She’s watching me.
“What?”
“You’re really good at that,” she says.
“At what?”
“The baby stuff.” She nods toward Hope.
“You’re joking, right? I’m total crap at this.”
Joni’s eyebrows scrunch together. “No, you’re not. You’re a natural. You know, the first time I ever saw you, you were saving that kid from falling off the shelf at the store. Remember?”
I nod.
“At first, you let him try to reach the bag on his own, which I thought was really cool of you. Not everyone would do that. A lot of people would just yell at him to get down. It was how I knew I liked you. And then when he fell, you sprang into action without missing a beat, like helping that kid was second nature.”
We fall into silence again, and I think about what she said.
Have I gotten better at the dad thing recently? I’m still not “really good” or a “natural,” but I think she might be right—maybe I’m better than I was. Joni’s soundtrack has been a lifesaver, and I’ve had more time this past week to focus on the baby. Looking at her and not seeing Meg mirrored back at me helps. And, I don’t know, ever since reading Meg’s final confession, I think I’ve let the bad fade away.
The silence goes on way too long. Joni’s waiting for me to say something. So I share the first thing that comes to mind. “Copse.” Random, I know.
She glances around the park. “Cops? Where? What?”
“No, not cops. Copse. With an e at the end. As in, ‘We’re sitting near a copse of trees.’ I’ve always liked that word.”
She laughs a little. “You and your words. What did you get on the Reading SAT?”
“I didn’t take it. I was signed up for the October test last year, but then the shit hit the fan and I didn’t go. I’m supposed to take it this November, but I’ll probably bail again since I’m not going to college now anyway.”
“You’re really smart, Ryden. You don’t need soccer to go to college.”
I shrug. “I’ll probably go to community college next year. Can’t really live in a dorm with a baby.” I look down at Hope and run a hand over her head. “I think my mom’s been trying to tell me that for months, actually.”
“I’d like to meet your mom,” Joni says.
“You will, I promise. Just not tonight because I’m pretty sure she’s having sex with her boyfriend right about now.”
“Um, gross?”
“Tell me about it.”
More silence. Joni opens the bag of candy, thinks a minute, then opens a box of the Nerds. She holds the bag out to me, and I pick out a Swedish Fish.
“I thought for sure you were gonna go for a gummy worm,” I say.
“Can’t. Gelatin. Not vegetarian.” She pours Nerds into her mouth.
“Oh. Shit. Sorry.”
“No worries. You just have to eat ’em.” She smiles. It’s not a huge smile, but at least it’s real.
“Okay.” It feels good to be talking with her again, even if it’s about candy. “So, um, thanks for hearing me out today.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for being a pain in the ass and making me listen to you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Can I ask you something?”