The First Councel

She reaches across the table and motions for my hand. Finger by finger, she pries open my closed fist. It’s the second time today she’s done that. As her nails skate tiny circles inside my palm, the calm settles on my shoulders.

“How’s that?” she asks.

Questions don’t come any easier. Behind her, the sun lights the edges of her hair. People wait their whole lives and never get a moment this good. Refusing to let it pass me by, I lean forward and close my eyes.

“Mickey-Mikey-Moo!” my dad shouts at the top of his lungs.

Startled, I pull away. Calmly and with far more poise, Nora does the same. Leaning back, she slowly looks over my shoulder. The moment’s lost, and here comes Daddy.

“Got a surprise!” he yells from behind me.

“Where’d you get that?” Nora blurts as a smile lifts her cheeks. In seconds, she’s out of her seat.

On the opposite side of the log fence, my dad’s holding on to a leather strap, which is attached to a gorgeous chocolate brown horse.

“She’s beautiful,” Nora says, squeezing between the horizontal logs of the fence. “What’s her name?”

“You were gonna kiss him, weren’t you?” my dad asks, his eyes even wider than usual.

“Kiss who?” Nora asks as she points at me. “Him?” My dad nods vigorously. “Not a chance,” she says.

“I think you’re boyfriend and girlfriend,” he says, giggling.

“You’re very smart.”

“You maybe gonna get married?”

“I don’t know about that, but I wouldn’t rule anythin-”

“Nora,” I interrupt. “He doesn’t-”

“He’s doing just fine.” Turning back to my dad, she adds, “You raised a good son, Mr. Garrick. He’s the first real friend I’ve had in… in a while.”

Hanging on her every word, he’s mesmerized. Suddenly, his lips start to quiver. He tucks his thumbs into his fists. I knew this was going to happen. Before it even registers with Nora, his eyes well up with tears and his forehead furrows with anger. “What’s wrong?” she asks, confused.

His voice is the enraged cry of a little boy. “You’re not gonna have me at the wedding, are you?” he shouts. “You weren’t even gonna tell me!”

Nora steps back at the outburst, but within seconds, she extends her hand to reach out. “Of course we’d-”

“Don’t lie!” he yells, slapping her hand away with the edge of the leather strap. His face is bright red. “I hate lies! I hate lies!”

Nora takes another step toward him. “You don’t have to-”

“I do what I want! I can do what I want!” he screams, tears streaming down his cheeks. Like a lion-tamer, he swings at her again with the leather strap.

“Dad, don’t hit her!” I shout, racing for the fence. Nora can’t handle this one. She backs away just as he swings again. From the look on her face, I can tell she’s taken aback, but she’s still determined to break through. Counting to herself, she times it just right. He takes another full swing with the strap, and before he can wind up again, she rushes forward. Just as I hop over the fence, she opens her arms and takes him in. He fights to pull away, but she holds tight.

“Shhhhhh,” she whispers, lightly rubbing his back.

Slowly, he stops struggling, even as his body continues shaking. “How come you… ”

“It’s okay, it’s all okay,” she continues, still holding him. “Of course you’re invited.”

“F-For sure?” he sobs.

She lifts his chin and wipes away the tears. “You’re his father, aren’t you? You’re the one who made him.”

“I did,” he says proudly as he tries to catch his breath. “He came from me.” With all five fingers erect, he picks at the edge of his nose with his middle one. Growing more confident, he once again wraps his arms around her. He’s still sobbing, but the gleam in his eyes tells the story. They’re tears of joy. He just wanted to be part of it. Not left out.

In a moment, the whole thing’s over. Still in Nora’s arms, he’s pressing his head against her shoulder, rocking back and forth. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. She’s got it all taken care of, and for the first time, I realize that’s her gift. Identifying with what’s missing. That’s what she knows. A life that’s half-complete.

“Is this your horse?” Nora finally asks, noticing my dad hasn’t let go of the leather strap of the chocolate horse.

“T-This’s Comet,” he whispers. “She belongs next door-to Mrs. Holt. Laura Holt. She’s nice too.”

“She lets you take care of Comet?”

“Clean her, groom her, feed her,” my dad says, his voice rising with excitement. “First the curry comb, then the dandy brush, then the hoof pick. That’s my job. I have a job.”

“Wow-a job and a son. What else do you need?”

He shrugs and looks away. “Nothing, right?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Nothing at all.”

***

As my car leaves the parking lot and bounces along the path of the dirt road, Nora and I each have a hand out the window. We’re throwing parade-float waves at my father, who’s frantically waving back after us. “Goodbye, Dad!” he shouts at the top of his lungs.

“Goodbye, son!” I reply. He saw the name reversal in an old movie and immediately fell in love with it. Since then, it’s become our customary way to say goodbye.