Strays Read Online Free PDF Page A

made much of an effort either. Pumping up the hill to our home in Seabright, I decided that tonight I’d surprise him with dinner. I stopped by our corner store and, using my ATM card, grabbed a baguette and all the fixings for chicken salad. If worse came to worst, we could enjoy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches together. It didn’t matter what we ate—as long as we had some time together. We could really talk; I could even tell him how depressed I’d been lately.
    At home, I grabbed the mail and locked my bike to the fence out front. The neighbor’s dog, a huge bullmastiff, barked at the sound of the rattling lock. It always got my adrenaline rushing. The neighbor kept that dog fenced in outside all the time, and I was convinced that if it ever got out, it was coming straight for me, the Bike Chain Lady.
    Calla lilies lined our driveway and reminded me of that Diego Rivera painting with the woman holding a huge bundle in her arms, like she was hugging them. I made a mental note to pick some and put them in a vase as a centerpiece for our dinner tonight.
    We lived on the top story of a duplex, but the unit below us was usually empty. It was owned by people who lived in San Anselmo and used this home as their “vacation” home. Once in a while they’d come down for a weekend in the summer, so we rarely saw them.
    I dumped my stuff in my room and went straight to the kitchen to get to work on my father-daughter bonding meal, preparing the chicken and washing the lettuce. I had all of the garlic cloves peeled and pressed for the garlic bread when Dad walked in the door. For once, he wasn’t on the phone.
    â€œHey!” I said, full of optimism and excitement.
    â€œSmells funny in here,” Dad said.
    â€œIt’s the garlic.” I pointed to my large plate of crushed garlic that had occupied the last thirty minutes of my life.
    â€œWhat’s it for?”
    â€œFor us. Dinner. I thought I’d make us some food,” I said.
    Dad looked around the kitchen, from the salad soaking in the colander to the chicken roasting in the oven.
    â€œIris…”
    This wasn’t good.
    Dad couldn’t even make eye contact with me. “I’m so sorry, but I have plans tonight.”
    â€œWork meeting?” I asked. It was the usual reason he was never around at dinner. “Actually, more like…a date,” Dad said casually.
    â€œA date?”
    He nodded.
    The waters swiftly rose to their absolute breaking point. Why was this driving me nuts? Mom had been dead for almost two years. I should be okay with this. I should want my dad to be happy…to move on if he was ready.
    But I wasn’t.
    He had been so busy over the past year and a half working on this job promotion, we never did anything together anymore—and then the first free moment he has he chooses to spend with a complete stranger?
    â€œWho is she?”
    â€œHer name is Janet. She works at the plant. She helps with the bookkeeping. She’s new. They hired her a few months ago, and we just hit it off. It wasn’t even really my idea,” he continued defensively. “The guys at work…they just think it’s time.”
    I held back tears with all my might. But one escaped. I tried to brush it away before he could notice.
    In my head was a running monologue of insults to sling at my dad— deadbeat , jerk —but none of them left my lips. I just stood there, silent.
    I must’ve looked utterly pathetic because Dad said, “You know, I’ll cancel. Let me just call Janet.”
    But by the time the words came out of his mouth, I wasn’t sad anymore. I was angry—angry that he was making time for this Janet but didn’t have a second for me. Angry that he hadn’t even brought up the meeting at school, like I was just supposed to pretend it didn’t happen. And, most of all, I was angry that he didn’t realize just how angry I