The Science of Loving (26 page)

“Well, her hitting on me sort of clued me in.” The color drain from her face—
shit, that probably wasn’t what she needed to hear right now.
“So babe, was that it, or is there more?”

“Was that it? Was that it? My God, isn’t that enough? I’m going to have to move away, change my identity, find a new job. Oh, and there’ll be no fucking against my door. My dad’s moved in with me.” I guess pissed off sarcasm was better than crying. She must be feeling better. “Shit, I promised to find some muscle to help pack up the garage today before Mom started chucking his tools.”

“No worries, I’ve got the muscle covered and I’m sure there are plenty of doors we can fuck against. We just need to make sure they’re solid, none of that hollow core shit.” I said, pulling out my phone. It was fun getting her flustered. “We’ll drop off your car—you okay to drive?” She nodded, “—grab your dad, and I’ll have a crew meet us at your folks house.” I snugged her under my chin and began calling in favors.

“I’d appreciate you not mentioning this little episode to my dad. I don’t want him having a stroke,” she said after I pulled up behind her.
Yeah because some shirtless guy, showing up with his daughter covered in tats, wearing nothing but basketball shorts and kicks wouldn’t cause one. Damn, I should’ve changed.

She gave me a nervous smile before opening the door. “Hey Daddy, I brought someone home to meet you.”

She was hugging a mild looking man of medium build with short, curly hair that was more salt than pepper. He was someone you could easily over looked if not for his eyes. Although his were somewhat faded with age, they shared the same expressive eyes, showing every passing thought if you knew how to read them. Startled and intensely curious, he openly studied me with a surprising lack of judgment.

“You must be Mat. Angie’s told me some very good things about you,” he said, extending his hand.

“Yeah? Don’t believe her. I’m rotten to the core. She’s just really gullible.”

“I’m Isadore, but everyone calls me Jack.” He paused, taking in Angie’s face, and his jaw tightened. It was obvious she'd been crying. Shit, I hoped the old man didn’t jump to the wrong conclusion. He looked back at me. I gave a slight shake of my head, and he nodded. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Actually, some water would be great; I was at the gym when Angie called me. Believe me, normally I wouldn’t show up dressed like this.”

“Not to worry. If I’d ever looked like you, I’d have run around half naked every chance I got.”

“Daddy!”
Thank God, he’s cool.
After meeting Stephanie, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

“I arranged for some folks to help collect your gear. They’re going to meet us at your house, so you might want to call ahead if there’s a gate keeper.”

“About that, there’s been a slight glitch. I can’t get the storage container until the weekend.”

“How much stuff are we talking about?”

“A lot of tools, a sofa, a couple work benches.”

“I can handle that. We can stash it in my building.”

“Your landlord won’t mind?”

“I am the landlord.” Grinning, I shot off a corny Mel Brooks line. “It’s good to be the king.”

It wasn’t surprising that Daddy and Mat hit it off right away; Mat charmed everyone—well, everyone but Mom, apparently—I still had trouble believing she’d hit on him. I was with him the whole time; wouldn’t I have noticed something like that? When he dismissed her at the party, I thought it was because of Mom’s grease-monkey crack. Did I miss something? Well if I did, I didn't really want to know. So I was a coward.

There was a U-Haul and a crowd waiting when we arrived at my childhood home. “Hey guys, thanks for coming,” Mat called out, passing out one armed, chest bumping guy hugs. And I braced for the inevitable hug-fest as Mat called them, when I saw his folks, Brett and Danny.

“Daddy these are Mat’s folks, Carmen and Stewart James; his sister, Danny; and her boyfriend, Brett.” I looked around apologetically and a little overwhelmed. All it took was a couple of phone calls and an army of helpers had shown up with a truck and boxes. “I haven’t met the rest of Mat’s friends yet.”

Daddy shook hands with Carmen and Stewart before nodding to the others. “I can’t thank you enough for the help. I just wish we could’ve met under happier circumstances.”

“Okay, let’s get started,” Mat said, taking charge. While the guys got busy with the garage, Carmen suggested we ladies pack up the rest of Daddy’s clothes, and reminded him to retrieve any important documents and personal mementos he might want.

“You okay,
mija?”
Carmen asked from inside Daddy’s closet.

“Yeah, it’s just so unexpected. I think I’m bothered more by how everything’s playing out rather than the divorce itself,” I said, moving on from Daddy’s underwear to his PJs.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they’ve been unhappy for a while… my whole life really. I guess I figured since they’d put up with each other this long, they’d just continue, and I can’t help feeling like I was the one who tossed out the last straw. That all this is my fault.”

“So it’s your fault your mom ran around on your dad?” Danny snorted at me. Well shit, even she knew. I should just turn in my MENSA card now because they’d obviously made a mistake.

“Danny, hush.” Carmen looked at me. “Why do you feel responsible for their mess?”

“Before I left on Friday, I complained to Daddy about my mom’s behavior, and this is what I came home to.”

“The divorce papers had to have been already drawn up; otherwise, they couldn’t have been served so quickly. He’d probably been waiting for you to be out of the way to serve them. Now that you’re an adult living on your own, perhaps he felt it was time for them to move on as well.”

The rest of the afternoon, Danny kept me from becoming too morose with a steady stream of snarky anal king comments as Mat efficiently directed the many helping hands. And once Daddy’s neatly packed man cave was stacked in a corner of Mat’s warehouse, we all trooped up to his loft for an impromptu pizza party.

His home was nothing I could’ve imagined. I’m not sure what I expected, but certainly not this warm mixture of wood, stone and iron. I guess all those dark whispers and teasing comments had primed me for something more sinister and dungeon like.
Wow… Now this was an open floor plan.

The industrial doors still living on the first floor had been replaced with geometric, rod-iron works of art. A river of stone flowed left, through a galley kitchen filled with light maple, black granite and stainless steel into a dining room before disappearing down a dark hallway.

Straight ahead in a sunken living room with light bamboo floors, a large Volkswagen sized boulder held pride of place. Water dripped down its sides into hollowed out pools, reflecting the modern chandeliers hung at varying heights from a leftover crane system above us. A leather sectional, dyed a rich forest green, wrapped around an oddly shaped coffee table with mesquite like branches supporting its glass top, and scattered about, jewel toned throws provided bright splashes of color.

Spaces were defined using elevation rather than walls, and the overall effect was open, bright and modern. And, when the tall floor to ceiling windows running along the outer wall were filled with daylight, I imagine, airy.

“Wow… Mat this is amazing.”

“It is now,” he rumbled, giving me a smoky look that had my face going all kinds of red. “C’mon, let’s get the plates out.”

As we all settled down to enjoy our first cheesy bites, my dad gestured with his pizza. “So Mat, Angie said you’re an architect. Did you design all this?”

“Yeah, I wanted the convenience of city living, but everything I looked at felt cramped, too closed in, so I started looking at unconventional spaces, and found this place.”

“You’re certainly talented. Some of the things you’ve done would never have occurred to me. I like the way you’ve utilized the overhead crane system.”

“That’s right.” Stewart beamed. “Angie said you were an engineer. We were lucky your daughter was with us last weekend. She saved the day when our camper malfunctioned.”

“Yep, she’s always been handy.” Daddy smiled.

It must’ve been some kind of signal when Daddy carried our empty plates to the kitchen, because everyone started leaving after that. Most blaming early morning work schedules, reminding me of the mess waiting for me on campus. When Mat returned dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, I knew it was time to go.

After he delivered the last of Daddy’s boxes to my spare bedroom, I walked him to his car. I was dreading the impending confrontation with Daddy. He shouldn’t have involved my boss in his mess. Some of this must’ve come through in my expression.

He crushed me against his chest. “Just remember to breathe sweetness.”

He was strong and solid, and I needed that so much. But I was afraid. I didn’t want him to think I was this needy useless person, even if I was. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“About today—all the drama, calling you, interrupting your day. I’m not always like this. Usually, I’m more self-contained. My work is my escape. Unfortunately this mess spilled into that, leaving me no place to go.”

“No worries, sweetheart, I was having a lousy day. Spending time with you could only make it better. I like— No, I need you leaning on me. It feeds my inner caveman.” Tangling his fingers in my hair, he took my mouth in a kiss so primal, it left me breathless. “Later Pebbles.” He grinned, enjoying the drugging effect his kisses had on me.

By the time I found my voice, I was waving into his headlights. “Later Bam-Bam.” I whispered.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dreamers Dream

I drove to the lab under a cloud of doom. Big chicken that I was, I couldn’t bring myself to confront Daddy last night, although I was sure he knew something was off; no one read me better than him. But like always, instead of pushing, he just carried my side of the conversation with forced cheerfulness.

My stomach dropped. It was only seven in the morning and Bob’s car was already here. He never came in before nine. Well, maybe getting it over with early was a good thing; that way I wouldn't be obsessing for hours on end… But I liked obsessing. I was good at it.

Doing my best dead nerd walking impression, I trod up the stairs, and marched through the dim lab to my office, not bothering with the lights. I stared at my computer like it was the enemy, waiting for it to boot up. Somewhere mixed in with the various newsletters, e-sales fliers and IT notifications was a loaded email waiting to explode.

Shit, I hated being right. It was a short, but sweet:

“Call me when you get in. Bob.”

My phone rang. Bob’s voice came out of the speaker after I let it go to voicemail. “Pick up Angie, I know you’re there.” He probably had someone watching the parking lot.
Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Hey Bob, you’re in early.”

“Yeah, well it takes an early bird to keep up with a certain reclusive scientist. Stay put.” Shit.

He must’ve already been on his way down, because the lights came on within seconds, warning me of his arrival. Then his smiling face poked through my door. That wasn’t good. Bob wasn’t a smiley kind of guy.

“Morning Bob.” My fake cheerfulness wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Morning.” He set a coffee in front of me then settled down with his own, eying me over the brim. “How’s it going?”

“You tell me.” I knew I sounded bitter, but it was all that kept me going, so I clung to it.

“Look, I had to do it. If I’d had the chance, I would've warned you.” Carmen’s words came back to me.
“The divorce papers had to have been already drawn up; otherwise, they couldn’t have been served so quickly…”

“How long have you known?”

“Known what? About Stephanie’s indiscretions? Your Dad’s unhappiness? Or the divorce?”

“Yeah, all that.”

“Your Dad’s unhappiness is a given considering the circumstances. Stephanie’s been indiscreet for years—as brilliant as you are, I can’t believe you didn’t know—no, on second thought, I can. You’re good at using that brilliant, single minded focus of yours to avoid things you don’t want to deal with: The greater the upset, the harder you work.” He scowled at me. “It’s annoying… The divorce is Friday’s news.”