Page 89 of Thiago
“Hello.” This had been a mistake.
“Karl, put on your damn glasses,” Verna said, setting the album down and standing.
“What do I need my glasses for?” Karl groused.
“To see!” Verna shot back. “I can't believe you got behind the wheel of that truck without your glasses on. He only wants to wear them when he’s watching TV or doing his art.” She shot India a look, as if to say,See what I have to deal with?
“I didn’t go far, and I know the way. Where are my glasses, anyway?” Karl asked.
“Over there on the table next to your chair. Hurry up and put them on so you can greet our guest.”
Karl let out a loud sigh, as if putting on his glasses was an unreasonable demand. He muttered something to himself as he shuffled over to the chair.
Verna rested one hand on her hip. “Hurry up,” she said.
“I’m hurrying. Damn, woman.” Karl settled the bifocals on his face. “Satisfied?”
He faced India. Then he blinked. He took a step closer and eyed her like a scientist discovering a new species of bug under a microscope.
“Indy?” he whispered in disbelief.
Relief, gratitude, and joy flooded through India. Was that why he hadn’t recognized her two years ago? Because he hadn’t been wearing the glasses he clearly desperately needed?
“Yeah, it’s me,” she whispered.
Karl’s mouth fell open. He looked at Verna as if needing confirmation. She gave a slight nod, and a smile overtook his face.
“Look at you. If I’da seen you in the street, I woulda walked right by you,” Karl said.
You did, India almost said.
“I don’t know how. She look just like you. Got your whole face,” Verna remarked.
Karl smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth. “Sure does. A prettier version. How you been?”
“Okay.”
“Why you here?”
“I wanted to see you. I thought maybe we could…” Emotion clogged her throat.
Her father nodded, clearly understanding the unfinished sentence.
“I would like that,” he said quietly. He cleared his throat. “Would you like some iced tea? Verna makes good iced tea.”
“I sure do. Everybody loves my tea.”
“I would love some,” India said.
“Be right back.”
Verna hurried out of the room, leaving them alone.
“Would you like to sit down? That couch ain’t pretty, but it’s comfortable. No, you know what, you can have my chair,” Karl said, moving to the recliner and removing the magazine. “Bought it brand new a couple of years ago. Christmas gift to myself. Here you go. You can sit right there.” He stood back, presenting the chair to her with an extended hand, like a model during a game show.
India didn’t move, though. She couldn’t take her eyes off her father. She was in the same room with him for the first time in forever. She didn’t feel any of the anger and disappointment she had expected to experience. Instead, overwhelming happiness filled every cell.
“Can I hug you?” Her voice quivered.
