Appointments
Karen’s pigtails sprouted through the cracks in her skull like weeds from a shattered sidewalk, and Jack thought it might be existentially horrifying were they not such cute pigtails. She had in the hair ties that looked like ladybugs.
“Dad,” she groaned. “Can you hurry? I have to be there by three.”
“Hold your horses,” he chastised patiently, wrapping one smooth band of hair around another. Her hair was getting so long, he thought ruefully. It seemed like only yesterday it’d barely passed where her ears should be, and now it was past her shoulders.
“I wish I had a blue dress,” she grumbled, glowering at the mirror and the dark outfit she wore. Her father hummed understandingly. He bought her all the dresses she asked for, of course, from cornflower blue to pastel pink to the ones decorated with skateboarding cats and surfing dogs. They all just turned into black cloaks. He assured her she still looked adorable in these, but she shrugged off the compliments and resumed sulking. Maybe it was just a part of growing up. She was almost a teenager, he supposed.
It wasn’t always like this. Her mother, whose face Jack could only remember after waking up from a particularly frightening nightmare, had been around in the early days. For the first time in his life, Average Jack had been the talk of the town: a baby out of wedlock. His mother had fanned her face so hysterically that they hadn’t needed to pay the air conditioning bill for months, his father had grumbled and paced so furiously that their kitchen now featured a small trench, and several neighbors had sprained their index fingers from pointing too hard. Jack hadn’t minded. He had been deeply in love ever since he’d been approached at the bar with the opening line, let’s raise a little hell. The rumors of his impulsiveness had been greatly exaggerated: he fully intended to marry this woman, and be as good a father as there could be.
“Dad, you have to hurry up,” Karen insisted, squirming in the chair enough to make the floorboards creak. “I haven’t even wrapped her present.”
“You should have done that before today,” Jack advised unhelpfully, refusing to rush this moment of somewhat reluctant father-daughter bonding. “Now come on, help me out. Are they even?” She hesitated between pouting and helping, but seemed to decide the latter would end the torture sooner. He watched her too-serious expression of consideration and felt, not for the first time, the strong urge to pinch her nonexistent chubby cheeks.
“They’re even,” she decided. He nodded and grabbed the two beetle ties to wrap up the braids. The moment he’d finished, she pulled up her hood, scooted off the chair, and raced to her bedroom. As he collected the keys and confirmed his wallet’s location, he heard the sounds of ripping tape and reckless wrapping paper destruction.
“We have to get there by three!” He shouted up, in no rush but always happy to tease. When Karen bounded down the steps, she did so with several hastily-prepared presents tucked between her elbow and hip.
“I’m ready!” She announced, barely stopping to tell him so. She stood in front of the door and jerked her head towards the handle impatiently, practically vibrating with excitement. When he opened the door, the fresh air felt so warm it was as though he’d stepped into a bath. He had only just begun to appreciate the beautiful May afternoon when Karen barrelled past him towards the street, leaping from her left foot to her right. “Come on!” She shouted without looking back.
Buying their current house had been a shrewd decision based off of the key location location location mantra of real estate. Luckily for Jack, few people were eager to be within walking distance of the local cemetery. Though it didn’t come up often enough, he thought with no small bitterness. He appreciated that Karen’s mother had a career-oriented lifestyle, but he wished that she had more time for their daughter.
They passed through the wrought iron gate and headed towards the mausoleum. Many graves had flowers and balloons today, which Jack thought was sweet, but the mausoleum was a display of excess. There was even a banner which read Happy Mother’s Day!, which Jack (frankly) thought was a little self-indulgent. Karen seemed thrilled by the over abundance of decorations, however, and began jogging past old tombstones and fresh mounds of dirt.
“Come on, come on!” She shouted excitedly. “She’s already here!” Sure enough, they were only a few feet from the mausoleum when the summer warmth dissipated and Jack felt uneasy, as if he’d just remembered his oven had been left on. The shadows cast from gnarly trees and cracked stones gathered themselves up into a very shapely mass of seething black. Jack scratched the back of his neck self-consciously, hoping his new haircut wasn’t too short.
“Hello, darling!”
Karen threw herself up into her mother’s arms, grinning against her robes. “Hiya, Mom! Do you like my dress? It was blue before. I have presents for you! Don’t peek too hard; I didn’t finish wrapping them because Dad said my hair needed to be brushed.”
“Your braids look very nice,” her mother replied. “How’s your midas touch?”
“I wear gloves to school,” Karen assured her, wiggling her black gloves (they’d been pink with blue kittens, initially). “I haven’t forgotten since last summer, when I won tag.”
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Jack announced, feeling a little out of place. Though he loved spending time with them, Karen rarely had a chance to discuss her favorite hobbies. Jack tried, but he found he could only nod along supportively rather than add anything of substance. Her mother had such a hard time taking off work; she always had a lot of catching up to do no matter how short her visits were. He waved, happily noting the way one of his wife’s eye sockets darkened imperceptibly (perhaps signalling a flirtatious wink), and headed back towards the main road. As he walked, he couldn’t help but wish he had more in common with his family, or at least more time with them both. Maybe, he thought wistfully, there was a way to keep them all together.
As a car zoomed past, he paused, staring after it. He glanced back at his wife and daughter, currently cutting down some weeds with matching scythes and matching toothy grins, and nodded with certainty.
He waited.
When a large bus came rumbling down, foolhardy in its speed and no doubt past its annual inspection date, he took a step forward. The bus shouted its objections, but he just smiled and remained resolute. It might have worked had a hand not grabbed forcefully at his shirt, pulling him back onto the manicured lawn.
“Jack,” she said. “You can’t visit just yet. Karen hasn’t finished school, and honestly I haven’t cleaned the place. Give me another few years, okay?” She kissed her palm and blew it to Jack, who rushed to catch it despite his mediocre history of athletics.
“Only a few more years?” He repeated hopefully.
“Oh yes,” she assured him. “Same bus, actually. I’ll see you then.”
“Okay,” he agreed, smiling. He stood by the road a little while longer, watching as she walked back to their waiting daughter. Karen was already thrusting presents into her arms, too eager to wait any longer, but when she noticed his gaze she smiled so brightly the sun was rivalled. A few more years? He could do that.