“Shelby, is that you?” the voice asks.
It’s her father. She hasn’t seen him since the funeral. Whenever he’s called she’s made excuses and gotten off the line as quickly as possible, but there’s not much she can do now that he’s right downstairs. Shelby pushes on the buzzer that allows him into the building while quickly pulling on a pair of black pants and a T-shirt, then tosses the dirty dishes into the sink. The dogs start barking as soon as there’s a knock.
“Four flights up?” Dan Richmond says when Shelby opens the door. He’s winded, leaning on the banister. He’s carrying a box that looks fairly heavy. “I heard you were living like this. Your mother told me about it.”
“Yeah, it’s small,” Shelby says. As in tiny. As in she’s poor. Or hadn’t he noticed?
Shelby’s dad steps inside and places the box on Ida Mink’s dining room table, then plops himself on the couch next to Pablo. “I see you still have the dogs.”
He hasn’t noticed that Blinkie is gone. The only dog he knows is Buddy, Sue’s poodle, who is staring at him.
“Hey,” Shelby’s father says to Buddy. “I know you. Come over here.”
Buddy doesn’t move.
“He always hated me,” Shelby’s father says. “The feeling is mutual, buster,” he tells the poodle. “Do you have some water?” he asks Shelby.
Though she’s in shock to have him in her apartment, Shelby goes to get him a drink. She lets the water run for a minute, otherwise it’s a hazy brown color, then fills a tumbler. Shelby’s father drinks it in one gulp. Shelby perches on a dining room chair.
“Nice table,” her dad says.
“It was Ben’s great-aunt Ida’s.”
“Patti and I got married,” her dad tells her.
Shelby doesn’t move. She feels a little like Buddy. Wary as hell.
“Last weekend,” her dad adds.
“Well, I guess congratulations are in order.” Shelby gets up and fetches herself a glass of water, mostly so her father won’t see that the tremor in her hand has returned due to his visit. It only happens when she’s especially anxious. She thinks back to last weekend. She and James watched all four Alien movies in bed, stopping only to order takeout from the salad place on the corner since Hunan is no longer an option. They were probably in bed together watching Sigourney Weaver fight for her life while Shelby’s father was getting married.
“We’re moving to Florida, so we figured we might as well go all the way.” It’s an unfortunate turn of phrase, and Shelby’s dad must realize that from the look on her face. “You know what I mean. Make it legal. And the house is sold.”
“Is there anything else? Like Martians have invaded or I’m really adopted?”
“Shelby,” her dad says. He shakes his head, like he’s the put-upon party.
“No, seriously, what else are you going to spring on me?”
“You just can’t be happy for me,” Shelby’s dad says.
“Bingo,” Shelby says. “You’ve got that right. So she’s Mrs. Richmond now?”
“Shelby, it hasn’t been easy.”
“Especially for Mom,” Shelby reminds him. “She’s dead.”
Her dad ignores the dig. “I packed up some of your things. I added some of your mom’s belongings that I thought you would like. She had that teacup collection. You liked to play with it when you were little.”
“Does it look like I use teacups now?” Shelby lashes out. “You clearly don’t know the first thing about me.”
“I don’t know anything about you because you don’t tell me!”
“Did you ask?”
“You never want to talk to me.”
He’s got her there. Maybe it’s not all his fault. She hasn’t included him in anything since the accident. “I’m distracted. I got into vet school.”
Shelby’s dad’s face brightens. “Wow,” he says.
“Yeah. A really good one. In California.”
“We’re moving to Boca,” her father says. “We bought a condo.”
“I want to see the house before I leave,” Shelby says. “I want to say good-bye.” She feels about eight years old. “It was my house.”
“It was,” her dad says. He takes out an envelope and hands it to Shelby. She opens it, suspicious.
“This is too much,” Shelby says when she sees the check.
“You think I don’t love you,” her father says.
“Because you don’t.” Shelby lowers her head so he won’t see her tears.
“Shelby, I do. I loved your mother, too, I just wasn’t good at it.” Her father finds a tissue for her in his pocket. She blows her nose and hands it back to him and they both laugh. “I thought you might turn the money down,” he says.
“I’m not stupid,” she sniffs.
“You definitely are not,” her father agrees.
“Should I say thank you?”
“You should.” Her dad gets up to go. “But we both know you’re not going to.”
All the same, Shelby hugs him good-bye. “Good luck in Boca,” she says.