Father's Day by Simon van Booy Read Free Book Online Page A

at one end of the couch where she imagined he fell asleep every night in front of the television.
    â€œDid you have a good relationship with them? What was your father like?”
    â€œMy father?” Jason said fiercely. “What do you want to know about him for?”
    Wanda leaned back in her seat. “What made him a good or bad parent?”
    Jason shrugged as though he didn’t want to talk. “What makes anyone behave like they do? You’re a social worker, Wanda—you tell me.”
    Wanda said every case was different. “Still,” she said,“from your reaction I’m guessing it wasn’t easy for you and Steve.”
    â€œMy father hated everyone, especially himself.”
    â€œIt’s amazing you’re so well adjusted, then.”
    â€œIs that a joke?”
    â€œNo, I’m being serious,” Wanda said. “You invited me in. You asked if I wanted something to drink. You don’t strike me as a mean person.”
    â€œWell, if you’d met my brother, Steve, you’d understand what a fuckup I turned out to be, compared to him.”
    Wanda shot him a hard look. “You shouldn’t be so quick to judge yourself, Jason.”
    â€œIs that what you came here to tell me?”
    â€œIt’s just my opinion.”
    Jason looked at the flowers she had brought. Imagined rolling them to bits in his hands.
    â€œWould it be all right if I had that glass of water now?” Wanda said, touching her throat.
    But Jason wasn’t listening.
    â€œI’ll just help myself, then,” she said, getting up. “You don’t mind, do you?”

XIII
    A WEEK EARLIER, Harvey was taken from her classroom to the principal’s office. There was Principal Russo in her stiff wooden chair with a woman Harvey had never seen before. They both had white mugs and carried them slowly to their mouths because that’s how grown-ups drink. The room was flooded with afternoon sun and smelled like coffee and white paper.
    Harvey tried to remember what she had done wrong. Was playing Deadly Spitting Cobras naughty? Had she drawn something bad without knowing?
    She was sitting in a red padded chair meant for grown-ups, a giant red mouth that could swallow her at any minute. When she looked up again, Principal Russo and the woman were smiling at her, and Harvey felt the rush of something good about to happen. That was it. She had done something good and was about to get her reward from the principal and this woman.
    Then the principal dragged her heavy chair over to where Harvey was sitting. Wait till I tell Mommy, Harvey thought. She had never been so close to Principal Russo—could have reached out and actually touched her.
    â€œWe have something to tell you, Harvey,” she said. “This lady’s name is Wanda, and she is going to help me tell you.”
    Then Wanda just came out and said it.
    Harvey imagined her parents in white casts, petrified except for their eyes. Sucking soup through straws. Their legs suspended by pulleys. She would bring them fruit and magazines. She would play with Duncan or with her farmyard on the bed and they would watch.
    Principal Russo held Harvey’s hand. Harvey saw that she was crying and felt suddenly terrified.
    â€œThey were so badly injured from the crash,” Wanda continued, “that they died before even getting to the hospital. That’s how bad it was, Harvey—I’m so sorry.”
    Harvey looked at the door to Principal Russo’s office, because her real life was on the other side.
    The door was blue and had always been blue. It had a square window at the height that only grown-ups could see in and out of.
    â€œBut when can I go home?” Harvey wanted to know. “It’s pizza night.”
    â€œYou like pizza, huh?” Wanda said.
    Harvey nodded. “It’s my favorite food.”
    â€œWell, that’s great to know, because it’s my job to look after you