The Days of Anna Madrigal Read Online Free PDF Page B

more committed to her amusement than to the truth.
    â€œI’ll show you the YouTube,” he said flatly.
    There was no arguing with that. “So . . . where did you meet her?”
    â€œAt the Russian River. I was waiting for the results of my AIDS test. It took a couple of weeks back then, and I didn’t wanna . . . I mean, it would have been awkward with Mary Ann, since we were still very . . . you know, sexually active.”
    She left that alone.
    â€œSo Michael took me under his wing. He had already tested positive himself, so we went up to the river together. He met Wren at a gay resort.”
    â€œShe was bi, you mean?”
    He shook his head. “She just liked being recognized. She was very big with the gay guys.”
    â€œSo to speak.”
    â€œThat’s just the sort of joke she would make.”
    He was sounding a little defensive, so Shawna tried to make amends. “She sounds cool, Dad. I’m not throwing shade.”
    Pokerfaced, he regarded her for a moment. “I’m sure I’d find that comforting, if I knew what it meant.”
    She smiled and translated: “I wasn’t trashing her, Dad. C’mon. I used ‘throwing shade’ in the novel.”
    â€œYou used lots of things in that novel. I just don’t speak Elvish.”
    She flinched, since some reviews of pvt msg had been similarly snide. Mostly the boomer critics, of course, who had come late to the party, and were pissed off that someone so young and unknown had written a novel composed entirely of text messages. They mocked the cryptic slang and the soullessness of the lowercase abbreviations as if those devices had been totally unintentional. She had hoped, at the very least, to be recognized as a new experimentalist, but they had treated her more like a Kardashian than a Kerouac.
    â€œDid you really hate it?” she asked.
    Funny how his opinion still mattered the most.
    â€œC’mon, Shawna, I loved it. I couldn’t stop reading it. I told you that already. I just don’t understand all the words.”
    She was feeling way too needy now, so she let it drop. “Anyway, I think it’s great that you’ve found someone. I’m thrilled for you.”
    A slow, sleepy smile from the old man. “Totes?”
    â€œYep . . . totes.”
    â€œSee? My lingo’s improving.”
    â€œDid you learn that in pvt msg ?”
    He gave her a crooked grin. “You think people talk that way around here?” He gazed out the window at the sea where the fog was finally lifting. The pewter skies were slashed open along the horizon, revealing innards of startling blue. Turning back to her, he said, “So what do you think? Do I look like a husband?”
    She saw her opening and took it. “More like a grandfather, actually.”
    He drew back. “Well . . . thanks for that.”
    â€œNo,” she said, smiling. “I mean . . . how would you like that?”
    His brow was still furrowed in confusion.
    â€œI’m gonna have a baby, Dad!”
    She’d been prepared for any number of reactions, but not the look of abject horror that transformed her father’s face before he snatched the glass of scotch from her hand. “What the hell are you doing, then?”
    â€œNo, no.” She found his panic attack endearing. “I’m not pregnant now. I’m just planning on it.”
    â€œPlanning on it,” he echoed, collecting himself.
    â€œI wanna be a mom, Dad. And I wanted you to be the first to know. I think I’d be good at it . . . and I’ve made enough money from the novel to support us.”
    â€œUs being . . . you and the baby?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIs there a boyfriend I don’t know about? A girlfriend?”
    â€œNope.” She smiled placidly. “Not a one.”
    â€œSo . . . not the clown guy.”
    â€œNo. That’s been over