The First Move Read online

  Until next year.

  “Okay, then. Enjoy dinner, I packed your favorites.”

  “Thank you, Mom. I appreciate it.” Because strain or not, she did.

  * * *

  BEFORE SHE SAT down to eat, Renia rummaged through her and Tilly’s room and Karl’s room for all the old yearbooks she could find. Leon’s were packed in a box in the attic, so she didn’t bother with those. Her own high school ones were still with Aunt Maria so her siblings’ yearbooks would have to be enough. She piled the books she found on the chipped yellow table in the kitchen and grabbed a fork. Then she began to flip pages and eat cabbage rolls.

  Not a Brislenn in one of them. Desperate, she flipped to the back pages with pictures of extracurricular activities and searched photos for a boy’s face with a man’s sardonic grin.

  Nothing.

  She was still looking when her mom came through the kitchen door. Her shoulders slumping from a long day’s work, she hung up her purse and sighed as she slipped out of her work shoes and into slippers. The slumped shoulders were probably not just from work. She’d come home to a surly daughter sitting in her kitchen.

  “You’re home early.”

  “Some folks are still cleaning up, but I wanted to make sure you would still be here.”

  I said I would be, she thought before she swallowed her bitchiness with a sip of water. “Do you remember the name Brislenn?”

  Her mom walked across the kitchen to the fridge, where she poured herself a glass of iced tea. She didn’t answer until she sat at the table across from Renia. “Brislenn? No. It’s not a Polish name.”

  “We went to schools with non-Poles. Public school even had non-Catholics.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Her mom chuckled. “I still don’t know the name. Does this have something to do with August third?”

  And the elaborate dance around That Which Must Not Be Named had begun. Renia wondered who’d started it and which one of them would finally have the courage to end it.

  The round fluorescent light above them buzzed an eerie glow into the silence for a minute before she answered. “No. A Miles Brislenn was at a wedding I worked. He called me Rey.”

  The dark shadows on her mom’s face made her look sad and Renia hoped it was the poor lighting. “You think you went to school with him?”

  “Me, Tilly or Karl.”

  “What would make him so different from other boys from the neighborhood? You see them occasionally.”

  Renia turned her face to the wall so the yellow fluorescent light hid any emotion she might reveal. I feel like he can see into my soul and I don’t like what he might learn there.

  “If you’re worried about what I think you’re worried about, you left school before anyone would know.”

  Despite the unease in their relationship, the woman sitting across the table from Renia was still her mother and could still pinpoint the essence of a worry.

  “I guess.” Renia absently stacked the yearbooks into a little fort. She didn’t know what she was worried about. No, that wasn’t right. She knew all the things she was worried about—the guilt, shame, unease—and the hope that kept her up at night. What she didn’t know was why the Ex exacerbated those worries.

  She was probably giving him too much credit. Refusing to call him by his name was giving him too much credit. She should call him, and think of him, as Miles, like the peers they were.

  Miles. Just thinking of him by his first name pushed the nuttiness a little further away.

  “Tilly said you didn’t get a phone call.” Her mom tipped the empty glass on the table, scrutinizing the drops of tea sparkling in the dim kitchen light as she rolled the glass in a circle on its heel. She didn’t look at Renia.

  Renia pushed enough selfishness from her mind to wonder, for the first time, whether her mom had wanted her to get a phone call or not. Previously, she would have said her mom would be happy for both of them to remain in ignorance for the rest of their lives, but the fiddling suggested otherwise.

  “Do you wish I had?”

  The glass landed squarely on its bottom and the fort of yearbooks collapsed.

  “What I wish isn’t important, Renuśka. What is it you want?”

  The conversation was drifting too close to the core of Renia’s despondency for eleven o’clock at night.

  “It’s late, and I have a mother with twins coming in tomorrow. I should go.” Renia stood and packed the yearbooks into a bag.

  “We can’t avoid having this conversation forever.”

  “We’ve gotten this far in life without talking.”

  “Renia Agata Milek, that was a horrible thing to say to your mother.”

  Renia sighed. There was every excuse—and no reason—for her to be bitchy. “Can we not have this conversation tonight? Maybe after August, when we’ve both cooled off a little.”

  “You promise we’ll have the conversation? You’ll not get uncomfortable and find some excuse to leave?”

  “Why do you want to talk so much? It’s been eighteen years, we could just keep on keepin’ on.” Renia dug through her purse for her keys, even though she always put them in the same pocket and could find them without looking. Anything to avoid her mother’s gaze right now.

  “I don’t want a strained relationship with one of my children.”

  “I thought this wasn’t about what you wished, but about what I wanted.”

  “Do you want to have a strained relationship with me?”

  When she put it that way... “Of course I don’t.”

  “After August, I’m going to stop being so nice.” Her mom stood. “Until then, I’ll say goodbye and give you a hug.”

  Their embrace had the poignancy of two people who love each other, but were afraid honesty would drive them apart.

  “I love you,” they said in unison.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MILES POURED MILK into his cereal, then pushed the jug over to Sarah, who filled her bowl with milk and poured a little cereal in. Just enough for a spoonful, not enough for any flakes to get soggy before she could eat them. After refusing to eat cereal for most of her childhood, she’d copied Miles’s breakfast habits when trouble started in his and Cathy’s marriage, even though she grimaced at each swallow of soggy flakes. The therapist had said it was a show of support for her father. Miles had wanted her to stop grimacing.

  Since all the familial relationships had righted themselves post-divorce and post-remarriage, Sarah had discovered she liked the taste of cereal, and so had begun the long morning ritual of filling her bowl with milk and adding flakes a spoonful at a time. A silly habit of hers that Miles would miss when Cathy was back from her honeymoon.

  He swallowed his own cereal. “Do you have your plan for the coasters laid out already?”

  How teenagers managed to do something as simple as taking a bite dismissively, he would never know. “I don’t do coaster plans anymore. Emily and I are meeting some other people there.”

  Other people, meaning boys. “I expect you to ride every coaster at least once and I want photographic evidence. I’m not paying seventy dollars for you to hang out, when you can hang out for free at a mall or park or something.”

  She rolled her eyes and poured another bite of cereal into her milk, quickly scooping the flakes out of the liquid and into her mouth. “I’m paying for my ticket. Out of my allowance.”

  “Which I give you.”

  “Accordi
ng to you, I earn it. You know, doing chores and stuff to teach me responsibility and the value of a dollar.”

  It was hard to argue with your daughter when she was right. “I still want photographic evidence of roller-coaster riding. Not all boys want girls who just stand at the bottom of a ride and giggle.”

  “Dad!”

  He took a bite of cereal to hide his smile. Her neck had nearly swallowed her chin and her prominent front teeth grew in proportion to her sinking face as she managed a new look of teen horror.

  “What? You don’t count boys as people?”

  “I am not talking to you about boys.”

  “I’m your father. I’m going to ask about boys, and other parts of your life. You can shrink indignantly and make faces at me, but I’m still going to ask.”

  “Fine, then. So are you going to ask that photographer out on a date?”

  The photographer who, in his mind, had been the single most significant person of his high school career—and who didn’t know him from Adam. He was embarrassed how much that stung.

  “I’m not sure if that’s any of your business.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew she’d trapped him. “Okay, okay. If I asked her out on a date and if she said yes and if the relationship progressed, then she would be a stepmother to you, and I could see how that would be your business. However, while it would be nice for you to like any woman I date, I’m not going to seek your approval.”

  “Do I need your approval on a boy I date?” Maybe Sarah would grow up to be a lawyer. She’d seemed intent on pinning down the details of every conversation.

  “Depends on the boy. I won’t be silent if I don’t like the guy.”

  She poured cereal into her bowl, letting the flakes risk getting soggy long enough to retort, “I won’t be silent if I don’t like your date, either.”

  Eventually she would be mature enough to stand her ground but not be rude. “I hope your mom and I raised you to be polite, but not silent.”

  She shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”

  He liked having a daughter who spoke her mind, but she was pushing the boundaries. “Sarah, that was not polite, or respectful.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad.” She was at least pretending contriteness, so he let the comment pass. “You didn’t ask, and you say it doesn’t matter, but I think the photographer’s nice.”

  “Why comment on Rey? I come into contact with plenty of women—” he ignored her snort “—so why assume I’m interested in Rey?”

  “You couldn’t stop looking at her. Especially at the wedding. Even Mom noticed.”

  Well, damn. So much for thinking he was hiding his interest.

  “It’s not a big deal, you know. Mom got remarried, so I’m not going to freak out if you ask someone on a date. You still have that thing for dinner and dancing.”

  In the four years since his separation from Cathy, Miles had never once considered whether he wanted Sarah’s permission to date. Want it or not, apparently he had not only permission to date, but also a suggestion of a location and approval of a person.

  “Are you going to give me a curfew, too?”

  She gave him a withering look as she took a bite of her cereal. Apparently she didn’t think her parenting her father was as funny as he did.

  * * *

  THE BELL ABOVE Renia’s studio door tinkled and the Ex followed the noise. Miles. She was going to call him Miles now. Like a normal person referred to a handsome man whose tan gingham shirt looked like it would be soft against her hands as she tried to unbutton it.

  She needed to get out more.

  “Hello.” She kept the surprise from her voice and maintained politeness. Every time they’d met he’d been perfectly nice to her, even buying her coffee and cookies. The least she could do was not greet him with “What are you doing here?” Especially after thinking dirty thoughts about him the moment he stepped through the door.

  “Hello.” His mocking half smile had been replaced by a tentative full one. From behind his back he produced a coffee cup. “Café au lait, with two sugars. I asked Sarah.”

  “Oh.” Oh. She recognized the smile, the gift and the sudden lack of air in the room. She wished Amy hadn’t left to take her sick daughter to the doctor’s. He wouldn’t do this if Amy were still here. “Thank you. Where is Sarah?”

  “She went with a friend to Six Flags. Besides, I couldn’t bring my daughter with me while I ask a woman on a date.” The mocking smile reappeared. “A little gauche, don’t ya think?”

  “Are you?”

  “Asking you out on a date?” His dimples deepened when he smiled and added to the boyishness of his face, but nothing about the interest in his eyes was youthful. “Yes. I’d like to take you out to dinner and dancing.”

  She bought herself some time, snapping the lid off the cup and setting it on the table.

  Did she want to go?

  No, but her reasons were cowardly. He was attractive, intelligent, employed—she assumed—a good father and had a cordial relationship with his ex-wife. Expecting anything more before agreeing to a first date would leave her single until the end of her days.

  But then he regarded her, and she wanted to shut her eyes so he couldn’t peek inside her subconscious. Could I go through the entire date with my eyes closed?

  When Tilly had been wrestling with her man problems, her sister had accused Renia of only dating men she could boss around. The comment had hurt, but Renia had acknowledged her sister was right. Turning Miles down would be conceding she didn’t want to change.

  The ringing phone saved her from giving an immediate answer. She walked to her desk and picked up the handset. “Milek Photography.”

  “Is this Wren-ya Milek?” The female voice pronounced Renia’s name like she had been practicing it in front of the mirror and still wasn’t sure she was saying it correctly.

  “Yes. How can I help you?”

  “I think you’re my mother.”

  “You have the wrong person,” she said, before hanging up the phone.

  Then she burst into tears.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MILES WAS CERTAIN Rey had been about to turn him down just as the phone rang, but when the woman he’d fantasized about all through high school burst into tears, he wished the phone had never rung and she’d had her chance at rejection. No matter how awkward being shot down was, he could always ask her out again. He couldn’t take away her crying.

  Whoever called had shaken her badly.

  Renia snatched the phone up to her ear again and pleaded, “Are you still there? I’m sorry for what I said. Please still be there.”

  “Rey, whoever it was is gone. You hung up on them.”

  “I know,” she said with an anguished cry. “How do I get her back? I need to get her back!”

  He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and lightly squeezed. “Take a deep breath and dial star-six-nine.”

  “I can’t.” The handset hit his knuckles. “Can you? Please?”

  “Okay.” He walked around the desk and sat. “Who should I reach?”

  “A girl. She’s eighteen. I don’t know her name. Tell her—” she sniffed “—I’m sorry and I’d like to meet her in person.”

  He wrote down the number and pressed One to return the call. After several rings, a male voice answered, “Yo.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Man, you’re the one who dialed. Who’s this?”

  “Miles.
I’m calling for a young woman, about eighteen with—” he guessed the next part “—brown hair and brown eyes.”

  “Man, you called a pay phone at Kenwood Towne Center. I throw a rock and I’ll hit a woman with brown hair.”

  Right. “Did you see who was just using the pay phone?”

  “Sure, man. A woman, like you said.”

  “Is she still there?”

  “No. She gone.”

  Miles looked at Rey’s stricken face and was unwilling to give up with so little information, though he wasn’t sure how to get more. “Can you tell me more about her? What was she wearing?”

  “Why you wanna know, man? This is creepy, ya know.”

  “She just called and her mother is trying to reach her.”

  “You ain’t gonna find her no how. Dark jeans and an Ohio State T-shirt. Red one.”

  “Thank you for your time, and for answering the phone.”

  “If her mama really is looking for her, tell the lady good luck.” With a click, the man hung up.

  Miles looked up from the desk into Rey’s round, watery eyes. Her emotions had seemed to encase her entire body in plastic wrap throughout his phone conversation so not a sound or tear had escaped.

  “She called from some mall. A Kenwood Towne Center somewhere.”

  “Cincinnati.” The stored tears broke loose in a hundred-year flood. “What do I do?”

  Miles did the only thing he knew to do—he wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened, then went boneless.

  He was completely out of his element, but he wouldn’t trade places with the emperor of the universe. She needed to be held, and he was glad he had been here when she got the phone call, even if she had been about to shoot him down.

  Ten minutes later, after Rey’s weeping subsided, Miles continued to hold her. She was warm and soft in his arms, and when he cocked his head to the left, he could rest comfortably on her head and smell the coconut of her shampoo. The arms she had slipped around his waist for support held tight. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Rey in his embrace.