Read Online Stash by David Matthew Klein - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Matthew Klein
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didn’t see these people who were no longer part of their world.
Then it was 7:30 and time for Jude to go. The dorm welcome party began at 8:00.
“You want to walk me out?” he said to Dana.
She turned to Jen. “I’ll meet you back at the room. Wait for me.”
Jude had moved the van to the parking lot after unloading and he walked now holding his daughter’s hand through the courtyard and along the path out to the parking lot behind Robert Hall.
When they reached the van, Jude said, “Do you have enough money?”
“I still have what you gave me—how could I have spent anything yet? Plus my credit card.”
“Here.” Jude reached into his pocket and handed Dana three one-hundred-dollar bills he’d been planning to give her. “Just some extra spending money.”
She put the bills in her pocket. “Parents’ weekend is only three weeks away. I’ll see you then.”
“Or before,” Jude added. “I’m thinking of coming to Plattsburgh next weekend for the meet. That’s your first one, right?”
“If my knee is okay.”
“Let me know what the trainer says.”
“I have to go. Jen’s waiting.”
“Don’t worry about anything, you’ll be fine.”
“I think you’re the one that’s worried.”
“You’ll meet new friends, you’ll fit in.”
“I’m not as lame as you think I am.”
“I don’t think you’re lame, I think you’re an angel.”
“Maybe a little nervous,” Dana admitted.
“That’s okay, it’s a healthy sign, like before one of your races. A few nerves help keep you on your game.” He hugged and held her for a long minute and she waited for him to let her go. Then, “Oh, wait. I almost forgot.” He opened the van and got the card out of the door pocket. He also picked up his camera from the center console.
“I couldn’t find the perfect one so I got you this.” He handed her the envelope.
That morning, while Dana had gone out for her run, Jude went to the drugstore to pick out a card for his daughter. He had scanned the racks. There were good-bye cards but their messages were final, suggesting the recipient was moving away forever. There were generic “congratulations on your new adventure” cards. Good-luck cards. Have a great trip cards. Finally he found a “we’ll miss you” card. He wasn’t sure what to do about the “We” part of it, finally deciding to make a joke and sign it “Your Dad and Daddy.”
She looked at the envelope. “Do you want me to open it now?”
“No, no—take it with you. But hold still, I want your picture.”
She cocked her head and smiled as if she were used to cameramen following her around. It was strange she could be so self-conscious about the flaw in her face yet so photogenic. Hesnapped the photo and viewed it in the camera’s window, showing it to her.
She shrugged.
He hugged her again and stroked her hair, which still maintained a little girl’s feathery texture. He’d stroked that hair ten thousand times or more over these years and he wanted to stand here and stroke it ten thousand more. Then she was walking back and he was sitting behind the wheel of the van watching until she disappeared into the dorm. In whatever ways Jude had fallen short as a father, the results were tallied and already in, and not much could be done about it now. An assault of loneliness and regret struck him on all sides and he thought he might cry but didn’t, and twenty minutes later he was drumming his steering wheel to Neil Young’s “Rockin’ in the Free World,” driving fast, his attention turned to the next order of business.
The Man Who Died
Gwen woke in the morning when the kids climbed on the bed. Nate tunneled under the blankets to get next to her, Nora wedged between her and Brian. Gwen hummed something and rolled over trying to find sleep again.
Brian took them downstairs. A few minutes later he came back with a cup of coffee and the newspaper and this time she sat up.
“How do you feel?”
Her eyebrow tugged
Then it was 7:30 and time for Jude to go. The dorm welcome party began at 8:00.
“You want to walk me out?” he said to Dana.
She turned to Jen. “I’ll meet you back at the room. Wait for me.”
Jude had moved the van to the parking lot after unloading and he walked now holding his daughter’s hand through the courtyard and along the path out to the parking lot behind Robert Hall.
When they reached the van, Jude said, “Do you have enough money?”
“I still have what you gave me—how could I have spent anything yet? Plus my credit card.”
“Here.” Jude reached into his pocket and handed Dana three one-hundred-dollar bills he’d been planning to give her. “Just some extra spending money.”
She put the bills in her pocket. “Parents’ weekend is only three weeks away. I’ll see you then.”
“Or before,” Jude added. “I’m thinking of coming to Plattsburgh next weekend for the meet. That’s your first one, right?”
“If my knee is okay.”
“Let me know what the trainer says.”
“I have to go. Jen’s waiting.”
“Don’t worry about anything, you’ll be fine.”
“I think you’re the one that’s worried.”
“You’ll meet new friends, you’ll fit in.”
“I’m not as lame as you think I am.”
“I don’t think you’re lame, I think you’re an angel.”
“Maybe a little nervous,” Dana admitted.
“That’s okay, it’s a healthy sign, like before one of your races. A few nerves help keep you on your game.” He hugged and held her for a long minute and she waited for him to let her go. Then, “Oh, wait. I almost forgot.” He opened the van and got the card out of the door pocket. He also picked up his camera from the center console.
“I couldn’t find the perfect one so I got you this.” He handed her the envelope.
That morning, while Dana had gone out for her run, Jude went to the drugstore to pick out a card for his daughter. He had scanned the racks. There were good-bye cards but their messages were final, suggesting the recipient was moving away forever. There were generic “congratulations on your new adventure” cards. Good-luck cards. Have a great trip cards. Finally he found a “we’ll miss you” card. He wasn’t sure what to do about the “We” part of it, finally deciding to make a joke and sign it “Your Dad and Daddy.”
She looked at the envelope. “Do you want me to open it now?”
“No, no—take it with you. But hold still, I want your picture.”
She cocked her head and smiled as if she were used to cameramen following her around. It was strange she could be so self-conscious about the flaw in her face yet so photogenic. Hesnapped the photo and viewed it in the camera’s window, showing it to her.
She shrugged.
He hugged her again and stroked her hair, which still maintained a little girl’s feathery texture. He’d stroked that hair ten thousand times or more over these years and he wanted to stand here and stroke it ten thousand more. Then she was walking back and he was sitting behind the wheel of the van watching until she disappeared into the dorm. In whatever ways Jude had fallen short as a father, the results were tallied and already in, and not much could be done about it now. An assault of loneliness and regret struck him on all sides and he thought he might cry but didn’t, and twenty minutes later he was drumming his steering wheel to Neil Young’s “Rockin’ in the Free World,” driving fast, his attention turned to the next order of business.
The Man Who Died
Gwen woke in the morning when the kids climbed on the bed. Nate tunneled under the blankets to get next to her, Nora wedged between her and Brian. Gwen hummed something and rolled over trying to find sleep again.
Brian took them downstairs. A few minutes later he came back with a cup of coffee and the newspaper and this time she sat up.
“How do you feel?”
Her eyebrow tugged
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