The Innocents by David Putnam

Author:David Putnam [Putnam, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Oceanview Publishing
Published: 2018-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“MY HOUSE?” I said. “Oh, my house. Sure, we can stop by there.”

I’d agreed too soon. She’d only been playing with me, and I hadn’t seen it in time. I didn’t want her to experience our little shabby house in The Corner Pocket, in the ghetto. What did it matter, though? Sure, I’d show it to her.

Minutes later, I turned down Nord and jerked the wheel hard, pulled right over to the curb, seven or eight houses down from our house. I sat there, a little stunned. Up on the porch to Dad’s house stood a woman I’d never seen before. About the same age as Dad, dressed nice in business attire, a conservative navy blue pantsuit.

And . . . and Dad stood there hugging her with one arm, the baby held in the other. As he . . . as . . . as he kissed this strange woman.

Not a simple, chaste good-bye kiss, either. He really leaned into it. The kiss went on and on. I squirmed in my seat as I watched. I’d never seen Dad with a woman other than Mom. I never even pictured him with one. While Noble and I were growing up, Dad had put us first, his job second, and the rest of his time, his personal life, he put on hold . . . for us. I never truly realized the enormity of his sacrifice until that moment with the woman in his arm. And my child in the other, a child I would now have to make the same kind of sacrifice for.

Chelsea looked at me, then followed my gaze. “Who’s that?”

“That . . . that’s my dad.’’

“Boy, that’s some kiss. He’s a regular Don Juan.”

I broke focus and looked at her. “Dad doesn’t have a girlfriend. He’s never had a girlfriend.” The statement sounded odd even to me. Why wouldn’t he have a girlfriend? Then, more strange thoughts crowded in. Had he had one all these years and I just didn’t know about it? And why in the world would I say that to Chelsea?

Maybe because the woman was white.

Chelsea said, “Well, I guess he’s got one now. I’m not kidding, that’s really some kinda kiss.”

I blushed for my father. I couldn’t drive up while they stood on the porch, not even if I wanted to; my hands wouldn’t obey any commands.

My dad had a girlfriend, and far off in the back of my brain, a little twinge made me think she looked vaguely familiar, like I’d seen her before. The way my mind worked, her name would bubble up in my brain later on, after I’d calmed down.

I waited until the woman gave Dad a final squeeze on his hand, climbed down the steps from the stoop, and headed for her car, a nice late-model, midnight-blue Cadillac Eldorado parked at the curb. The Caddy drove off down the street, headed west.

Dad went inside without ever looking east toward us. I shifted into first gear and drove up to the house.

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