“Right here,” Neena points to a page in a magazine. I’ve just stopped at a red light, so I look over to see what she’s pointing at.
“Corcovado?” I question, surprised. Corcovado is a mountain in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, topped with a Christ the Redeemer statue.
“Brazil would be number one on my list, well, there and China,” she mentions excitedly, pulling the magazine back in her lap and staring down at the page.
“I love Brazil,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says. “Marcus told me. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always wanted to go.” She’s breaking my heart here.
I clear my throat and hit the gas when the light turns green. I hate that she’s grown up hearing about me from other people. That she’s grown up wondering about me. Before I can respond, she adds, “I would look at pictures from amazing places and imagine you there. I guess . . .” She pauses. “I guess it made me feel like I knew you. Or maybe, kind of like I was there with you in some way.” When I glance over at her, she twists her mouth and darts her eyes back at the magazine. “That sounded so stupid,” she says, embarrassment washing across her face.
Gently, I grab her tiny wrist and give it a little squeeze. “No, it doesn’t, Neena.”
“What’s it like there?”
“It’s beautiful,” I communicate. “You can see jungles on one end and beautiful beaches with blue water on the other. The food is amazing; papayas, tropical bananas, mangos . . .”
“Is that why you like it? The food?”
“That’s part of it.” I shrug. “I went there for the first time when I was nineteen because a buddy of mine told me that’s where the most beautiful women in the world are.”
Neena grins. “Is that true?”
I chuckle lightly. “They do have some good-looking women there. No doubt about that.”
“More beautiful than Mom?”
I inhale and can’t help but smile at her question, but I answer her honestly. “There is no woman in this world like your mother. Believe me, I’ve looked.”
Neena looks down at the magazine again. “Is that where you’ve been all this time?”
“No. I’ve . . . kind of been all over.”
“Will you go back? To Brazil, I mean?”
“Maybe, one day. But right now, I’d rather hang out with you.”
She looks back up at me and gives a halfhearted smile. “Maybe you can take me there, some day.” The statement would sound hopeful if it was coming out of a healthy child’s mouth. But hearing her say it, it sounds like she knows it’ll never happen. But that doesn’t stop me from promising it anyway.
“I’d like that,” I reply.
When we pull into the office lot, I notice several vans in the parking lot, including the one the news reporter kids from the local high school were in the other day. Several people lollygag around outside on the sidewalk as we park.
“Who are they?” Neena asks. I’m not sure, but I’m sure as hell going to find out. We climb out and all eyes dart to us.
“Paul James?” a woman calls, and then they all swarm us. I take Neena’s hand and pull her to me as I push through the barrage of people throwing questions at me. When we finally reach the front door to the office, Ashley, the high school reporter, opens the door and rushes in behind us.
“I told you to leave,” Clara spats at her.
“Neena,” Ashley continues, ignoring Clara, “I want to tell your story. All of you.” She looks around. “The world just wants to meet her,” she says to Clara. “Her ad touched so many people. They just want to know who she is. And I want to be the one to tell this story.”
Clara inhales deeply as she struggles to keep her cool. “Ashley,” she states simply. “Leave.”
Ashley frowns, seemingly hurt, before she looks at Neena. Handing Neena a little card, she says, “Maybe they’ll change their minds.” Neena takes the card and looks at it as Ashley walks out. We all watch her climb in the van, which has the same kid from the other day, Zane, driving, and they pull away.
“She’s relentless,” I snort.
“Well, they found us,” Clara mumbles as she looks at the five people standing outside the office.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Neena murmurs as she drops her head.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I assure her. “The important thing is, you guys found me. This . . .” I motion behind me to the people outside, “Will pass.”
“Neena, why don’t you go rest for a bit,” Clara suggests.
“I’m not tired.”
“Just for a little bit. Please.”
“Fine.” Neena turns to me, giving me an eye-roll. I have to fight not to laugh at her. “Bye, Paul.”
“Bye, kid.” I smile and kiss the top of her scarf-covered head. “See you tomorrow?”
“Will you tell me more about the places you’ve been to?”
“I think I can handle that.”
She waves and scurries off down the hall. When the office door shuts, Clara turns to me. “I’ll be meeting with the doctor in the morning for the results.”
“Oh?”