Read Online Matchstick Men: A Novel About Grifters With Issues by Eric Garcia - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eric Garcia
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long?”
“No, no, forget about it.”
Klein steps back, puts a hand on Angela’s shoulder. “We’ve been having some good discussions on the way over,” he says. “Roy, this is Angela.”
The girl sticks out her arm, thrusts it right out there, and Roy grabs and shakes. Her hand is small inside his, a plum in his fist, and he wonders if it was even smaller once. What that would have felt like.
“Good to meetcha,” says Angela. Her voice is high. Perky. Roy thought it might be this way. Heather spoke this way.
“Yeah, yeah, good here, too. You sound—you sound a little like your ma.”
“Yeah?” says Angela. “Everybody says I sound like Lisa McPherson.”
“I dunno,” Roy says. “Who’s that?”
“Girl who went to my school a while back. She does the news now on Channel Nine.”
“And you sound like her?”
“Guess so. That’s what people say, anyway.”
Dr. Klein steps between them. “I’ve got a three o’clock back at the office—I’m sorry to take off like this—”
“It’s fine,” Roy says. “We’ve got it from here.”
Klein smiles, pats Roy on the back. Most people don’t pat Roy on the back. Not more than once. But Roy doesn’t say anything. Klein didn’t mean anything by it. “She’s got a train back home at eight o’clock. If you need me to—”
“I can get her there,” Roy says. “I can take her. If that’s okay …”
“Sure,” Angela squeaks. “That’s great.”
Dr. Klein shakes Roy’s hand, shakes Angela’s hand. Waves and walks away. Back to the car, guns it up. Roy watches as the sedan pulls out of the parking lot. Watches it go down the street. Easier to look away than to start the conversation.
“So,” Angela says. “You’re my dad.”
“Guess so,” says Roy. “That’s what—that’s what Doc Klein found out.”
“Cool. Thought I didn’t have one, you know.”
“Your mom didn’t tell you about me?”
Angela shakes her head. “She told me you were dead.”
Roy swallows. “Oh. I see.”
“I mean, I saw pictures and all, but I didn’t know.… I figured that was that, and so I didn’t think about it much.” She looks up at Roy, who is having trouble looking back. “Hey, you wanna go on the swings?”
Roy doesn’t fit too well in the swing seat, but he grabs tight onto the metal chain and pushes off. Angela’s already flying back and forth, legs whipping through the wind. “That doctor guy was nice.”
“Doc Klein?” Roy says. “Yeah, he’s a good egg.”
“We talked on the drive over. After the train.”
“ ’Bout what?” asks Roy.
“ ’Bout stuff. His wife.”
“He’s got a wife?” Roy asks.
“Uh-huh. You didn’t know that?”
Roy shrugs. “We mostly talk about me. When I see him. What’s her name?”
“His wife? Lily,” says Angela. “He showed me a picture. She’s pretty. And we talked about how things are going, what my mom’s like, what she says to me, what she does. I asked him some about you, that sorta thing.”
“What’d he tell you about me?”
Angela swings higher, legs kicking longer. “That you were all by yourself, that you were anxious to see me. Not to scare you off, that sorta thing.”
“Scare me off?”
“I dunno. I said he was nice, not smart.” She slows down again, coming even with Roy’s lethargic swinging. “You got fatter,” she says plainly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. From those pictures I saw, at least.”
Roy shrugs. “People get older. They get bigger.”
“Some guys get skinnier when they get old. All skin and bones, all wrinkly. Little old guys on the street, they weigh like twenty pounds.”
“Little old guys, huh?”
“It’s okay, though—you being fat and all,” she says, coming to a halt. Her feet drag in the dirt. “I think you look nice. And it looks like a healthy fat, you know. Like you played football or something and now you just don’t play anymore. You’re not rolling around or wheezing or anything.”
“So your mom
“No, no, forget about it.”
Klein steps back, puts a hand on Angela’s shoulder. “We’ve been having some good discussions on the way over,” he says. “Roy, this is Angela.”
The girl sticks out her arm, thrusts it right out there, and Roy grabs and shakes. Her hand is small inside his, a plum in his fist, and he wonders if it was even smaller once. What that would have felt like.
“Good to meetcha,” says Angela. Her voice is high. Perky. Roy thought it might be this way. Heather spoke this way.
“Yeah, yeah, good here, too. You sound—you sound a little like your ma.”
“Yeah?” says Angela. “Everybody says I sound like Lisa McPherson.”
“I dunno,” Roy says. “Who’s that?”
“Girl who went to my school a while back. She does the news now on Channel Nine.”
“And you sound like her?”
“Guess so. That’s what people say, anyway.”
Dr. Klein steps between them. “I’ve got a three o’clock back at the office—I’m sorry to take off like this—”
“It’s fine,” Roy says. “We’ve got it from here.”
Klein smiles, pats Roy on the back. Most people don’t pat Roy on the back. Not more than once. But Roy doesn’t say anything. Klein didn’t mean anything by it. “She’s got a train back home at eight o’clock. If you need me to—”
“I can get her there,” Roy says. “I can take her. If that’s okay …”
“Sure,” Angela squeaks. “That’s great.”
Dr. Klein shakes Roy’s hand, shakes Angela’s hand. Waves and walks away. Back to the car, guns it up. Roy watches as the sedan pulls out of the parking lot. Watches it go down the street. Easier to look away than to start the conversation.
“So,” Angela says. “You’re my dad.”
“Guess so,” says Roy. “That’s what—that’s what Doc Klein found out.”
“Cool. Thought I didn’t have one, you know.”
“Your mom didn’t tell you about me?”
Angela shakes her head. “She told me you were dead.”
Roy swallows. “Oh. I see.”
“I mean, I saw pictures and all, but I didn’t know.… I figured that was that, and so I didn’t think about it much.” She looks up at Roy, who is having trouble looking back. “Hey, you wanna go on the swings?”
Roy doesn’t fit too well in the swing seat, but he grabs tight onto the metal chain and pushes off. Angela’s already flying back and forth, legs whipping through the wind. “That doctor guy was nice.”
“Doc Klein?” Roy says. “Yeah, he’s a good egg.”
“We talked on the drive over. After the train.”
“ ’Bout what?” asks Roy.
“ ’Bout stuff. His wife.”
“He’s got a wife?” Roy asks.
“Uh-huh. You didn’t know that?”
Roy shrugs. “We mostly talk about me. When I see him. What’s her name?”
“His wife? Lily,” says Angela. “He showed me a picture. She’s pretty. And we talked about how things are going, what my mom’s like, what she says to me, what she does. I asked him some about you, that sorta thing.”
“What’d he tell you about me?”
Angela swings higher, legs kicking longer. “That you were all by yourself, that you were anxious to see me. Not to scare you off, that sorta thing.”
“Scare me off?”
“I dunno. I said he was nice, not smart.” She slows down again, coming even with Roy’s lethargic swinging. “You got fatter,” she says plainly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. From those pictures I saw, at least.”
Roy shrugs. “People get older. They get bigger.”
“Some guys get skinnier when they get old. All skin and bones, all wrinkly. Little old guys on the street, they weigh like twenty pounds.”
“Little old guys, huh?”
“It’s okay, though—you being fat and all,” she says, coming to a halt. Her feet drag in the dirt. “I think you look nice. And it looks like a healthy fat, you know. Like you played football or something and now you just don’t play anymore. You’re not rolling around or wheezing or anything.”
“So your mom
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