Random

Chapter SIXTEEN

Henry's truck is in the driveway, and I head into the backyard as always, trying not to trip on the dogs. He's not in the workshop, and I poke my head in the house. "Henry?"

No answer. I don't want to wake him up if he's napping, so I tiptoe in, and there he is, sprawled across his bed, snoring. His feet hang off the mattress.

I find a soda in the fridge and carry it into the living room, move some magazines and a couple of shirts off the computer chair, and sign in under my account. There's nothing in my email except a bunch of ads. I'm not 100% sure I want to go to Facebook, considering the drama with Rick.

And Tyler.

I frown. Is it me creating all this craziness?

Maybe it is.

And there's my other dad, too. I remember with a flip of my stomach that I sent him an email, too.

There's nothing to do until Henry wakes up, so I might as well check it all out.

There are 9 messages in my inbox. With a sigh, I open it. Rick, Rick, Rick, Rick, Rick. Most of them are from last Saturday, two are from today, so he's out of jail. I wonder if I should be worried about that. After a moment of hesitation, I delete them all without reading them.

One from Lucy. One from a girl at Billy's: Did you get yr check?

One from Tyler-

And two from k.pears.

My dad! My hands shake as I open the first one.

Dear Jessica,

I can't believe it. It's you! All these years I've been hoping and praying I'd be able to see you again, and here you are. I'm crying like a little girl right now.

You look exactly like your mother did at your age.

Let's talk more, can we? I want to know you, know everything about you. My phone numbers are 011-67-03-51-983, 011-67-03-51-481. Call me anytime. Here is a picture of me in my vineyard. Good thing you look like your mum, huh?

Your dad,

Keiran Pears

The photo shows him tending the vines, mountains behind him. My dad. My stomach suddenly feels so nervous and strange and uneasy and happy and excited that I have to put a hand to it. I glance over my shoulder to make sure Henry is still asleep. I can just see the end of his sock, exactly where it was five minutes ago.

I open the second message.

Dear Jessica,

It's been a couple of days and I don't want to seem like a nutter, but I'd really love to talk to you. I'm not a lunatic, I swear. Just excited. Can you Skype?

Your dad,

Keiran Pears

I hit reply. For a minute, I dither over how to open the message, like do I call him "Dad" or "Keiran" or "Mr. Pears"? Finally, I just avoid it.

Hi. I'm really glad to hear from you. Sorry I didn't write back sooner, but I don't have a computer at my house and although everybody usually has a smart phone, I like to be frugal (restaurant pay, you know!) I only get on FB once a week or sometimes even less.

I'd love to talk to you, too, but I'm sure long distance charges are a lot! I can probably figure out a way to get on Skype, but it might take me a little while.

My friend just took me swimming in a lake in the mountains yesterday and I remembered swimming as a little girl on some beach. There were some big round rocks and...a cliff, maybe? I remember giant seagulls and you were swinging me around and then we were splashing into the water.