Page 14

The phone only rings once before the call connects.

“Uncle ‘Mar? Hiiii! It’s Hannah. I’m eating Rocky Road. What are you doing?” A smile unbidden but welcome spreads across my face at the sound of my niece’s sweet voice. I glance at my watch and do a quick mental calculation. “And why are you eating Rocky Road at home and at 1 p.m. on Friday instead of whatever perfectly balanced meal they serve in your overpriced school’s cafeteria?”

“I lost a tooth and had to stay home.”

“They allow sick days for that now?”

“They do when your brother knocks it out with his baseball,” she chimes in a voice that’s reminiscent of my sister’s when she knows she’s got you beat on logic. But unlike my sister, it doesn’t irritate me to hear it out of her mouth.

“And how mad is your mama?”

She giggles. “She’s super mad. We were throwing it in the house when she said not to. But she said my busted lip was punishment enough and gave me ice cream. And Papa said the tooth fairy pays more for knocked-out teeth, and he wasn’t making it up like he normally does. I had thirty-two dollars under my pillow this morning. So I’m pretty happy. Even though I have a fat lip and have to go to the dentist appointment later. How are you?”

“Wait, you know the tooth fairy isn’t real?”

“Of course. I’m not six years old anymore.”

She certainly isn’t. She’s grown so much in the four years since I left LA for Houston.

I laugh, amused by her commentary. “I’m doing okay. And I’m glad to hear everything is normal over there. I miss you guys.”

“Then come home.”

Ah, to be a child and have everything be so simple. “I will. Soon. Is your mom around? She texted me.”

“She’s on the house phone with Mimosa, and she told me not to interrupt her unless I was dying.”

“No, don’t worry, I’ll call her later.” Mimosa is our mother’s sister, who plays house with my father and tries to mother us. Just the sound of her name sets my teeth on edge.

“Do you want me to tell heryou’redying? They’ve been on the phone for a while, and she really wants to talk to you.”

I shake my head. “No, don’t get into the habit of lying to your mother.”That’s my job.

“She’ll be mad that I didn’t interrupt her because she’s been trying to reach you. She says you’re avoiding her because you don’t want to hear what she has to say.”

I stifle my surprised, impressed, amused chuckle because this is a kid who doesn’t know the difference between laughing with or at her. My sister says I was the same way as a kid. I hope she grows out of it faster than I did.

“I’m not avoiding her. I’ve just been busy this week.”

“With what?”

“Stuff, kid.Adultstuff that you wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand a lot. And she’s done now, anyway.”

“Thank God. Go back to your ice cream, and leave me in peace, you little hellion,” I tease. But she doesn’t laugh.

“I love you, Uncle ‘Mar. I just want you to be happy.”

“I love you too, baby.” This kid is the only person on the planet who says she loves me so freely and so frequently. I’vemissed hearing it, and I’ve forgotten how utterly comforting and reinforcing it is.

“Well, hello, stranger.” My sister’s exasperated relief is melodramatic, but I’m too happy to hear her voice to be annoyed.

“I’ve been busy.”

“So you say, but I don’t see how overseeing the renovation of your house can take up so much of your free time. Life-changing shit is happening, and you’re not talking to anyone about it.”

“Moving to London to renovate my house is hardly life-changing.”