Page 57 of The Progressions

“I thought I might say hello to Tyler. Wasn’t that him in the driveway?”

We both looked toward the window, under which the engine of the new, navy blue SUV had roared to life.

“He came over to say hello,” I agreed. “He wanted to talk about the game.”

“Kasia, you don’t have to tell stories. It’s no surprise that he’s in love—”

“Don’t say that,” I answered, and my voice sounded sharp. I immediately wished I hadn’t spoken that way and said, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why you think he wouldn’t be,” he told me, and he sounded angry, too. “You’re the prettiest and the smartest—”

“No, I’m not that girl. I’m ok with it,” I stated. “I accept reality and I deal with it. Not everyone does.”

“Do you mean me? I’m right about you, and I’m right about Tyler, too.”

“Daddy, you’re the one who sleeps with the portrait of Mom angled just right so you can feel like she’s still looking at you.”

“I understand what reality is. I’m living it, every day.” His eyes went toward the painting. “I miss her, but I accept it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I wish I could do something to make it up to you.” I didn’t only mean how I’d been rude, but also how I was…not enough. I’d been trying my whole life and I hadn’t ever been able to make him better.

“We’re just tired,” he said. “Go to bed, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

I left his room and lay on the lumpy, poking mattress. Instead of sleeping, I thought that all of the choices I was now making, like giving up on law school, quitting college, and casually hooking up with Tyler, were only going to make my father unhappier. I was tired, but it was a long, long time before I could sleep. When I did, I dreamed of the woman in the picture frame, the mother I only knew as paint on canvas.

Chapter 12

“He’s perfect. Aren’t you?” Her voice was high and singsongy. “Aren’t you perfect?” She said a lot more mushy, silly nonsense and kissed his tummy a few times.

Baby Balderston stared back at his mother, totally unimpressed. I swore, if he’d been capable of raising his middle finger? He would have done it. As it was, he couldn’t even get his tiny hand into his mouth as hard as he tried, but I liked that he had standards for conversation.

“He’s an angel,” Miss Gail agreed. She had told me that I should call her by name, without the “miss,” but I was unable to do that now. “May I hold him?” she suggested.

Iva reluctantly let go of her child and Miss Gail removed two of the three blankets that covered his little body. He immediately looked a lot less grumpy. They had already set the heat at seventy-five in this condo, and it was still very nice outside. I was roasting, and I hadn’t been triple-wrapped like baby B. MissGail had said that she herself didn’t feel it, since she “ran cold,” and I was pretty worried about how she’d do here in the winter. But she would probably be going home to Georgia soon enough. Her knee and hip were a lot better and she was close to only needing a cane for a mobility aide.

I wondered if she was thinking about a departure but I didn’t want to ask in front of Iva. Since she’d brought home baby Balderston—at least, since she’d brought him here to Tyler’s condo, she’d leaned a lot on Miss Gail, who didn’t seem to mind in the least. Anyway, we had other things to discuss right now.

“I was going over all guys on the offense to decide who should be Tyler’s friends, and I have a few names picked out,” I announced. When they didn’t immediately respond to that, I prompted, “Do you want to hear who they are?”

“First, I’d like to hear why you’re picking out friends for him,” Iva volunteered. “How about we start there?”

“Ty always struggled with that and I was always so sorry that he couldn’t stay somewhere longer and let friendships happen naturally,” his mom said, and seemed distressed.

“It’s going to happen now,” I assured her. “He’ll be a Woodsmen for the rest of his career, so these relationships will be keepers.” He would be staying orange, because the team’s front office made good decisions. They’d signed the amazing Tyler Hennessy, hadn’t they? And he was making them glad that they had, every time they looked at his stats.

“I’ll ask you again,” Iva said. “Why are you trying to pick Tyler’s friends?”

“Because I know all of these guys,” I answered. “Who else puts as much time into studying the Woodsmen as I do?”

“You haven’t done that lately. You’ve been so busy helping me,” she said and sniffed, but before she could cry, Miss Gail asked her to come help with a diaper change. They’d put a second table with supplies right here in the living room, and I hoped that it didn’t bother Tyler. Sometimes there was a smell…

While they worked on the baby’s tiny butt, I was busy with my list, and I was also busy reading an email I received from the human resources division of the calculator company. I had already foreseen this outcome: I was fired, which I was aware that I deserved because I was much better at diagnosing my own deficiencies as a calculator tech than I was at fixing the problems with those devil machines. I had other ideas for the future, anyway, so I wasn’t too worried about the email.

And it was time to go down to the trailer, back to my other job. That was where I was when Tyler came home from the stadium. He made a big show of opening and closing the door a few times, then looking at me with his eyes narrowed.

“Yes, Mr. Holmes,” I said. “As you’ve discovered, I’m not locking it.”

“After what just happened with the villanelle guy, you should be.” He sat in his chair and reached for the cards, shuffled and dealt me a hand. “Iva just texted that you’re trying to plan a playdate for me.”

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