“I think Dave does the sounds with him,” I said.
“Okay, go like this,” Teri told Eli. She pushed her lips out. Eli laughed and laughed. “No, you do it too,” she said. “Do just like me.” After a minute she got him to push his lips out and she colored them both black. “Now I’m going to put fangs on you,” she said. “Ready?”
Eli cheered.
“We used to have a tiger mask at home,” Cadence said. “David was terrified of it. Maria was absolutely merciless. She would put it on and wake him up with it. One time he wet the bed.”
“In front of you?” I said.
She nodded. “I think it’s still a fond memory for Maria.”
“Well, she had to wash all the sheets herself,” Teri said placidly, “so I’m glad she treasures that moment.”
“Okay, it’s hella quiet in there,” Cadence remarked. “I’m gonna go break up whatever’s going on. Mom, should I wake up Dad?”
“He’s not sleeping,” Teri said. “He’s just resting in the living room. You can tell him we’re going to start making plates as soon as Sonya gets here.”
“I think he needs a David visit,” Cadence said.
Teri frowned at her. “He’s getting one this weekend. Go inside.”
Cadence went into the house, wiping her gray-soled feet on the mat. Teri turned back to Eli, who’d gotten bored and was trying to lick the paint off his lips.
“Don’t eat that,” I said, prying his fingers away from his mouth.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Teri told me. “It’s a set just for little kids. I mean, don’t let him eat the whole thing, but it won’t poison him.”
“Oh.” I sat back. She dipped her paintbrush in the orange and painted careful stripes across Eli’s forehead and cheeks. “He’s really looking like a tiger,” I said after a minute. “You’re good at that.”
She smiled, wrinkles lifting her cheeks. “I used to paint sets for the Little Theatre,” she said. “For a while in the seventies.”
There was a sudden shriek from inside the house, then the thundering of two pairs of feet down the hallway as the twins chased each other.
“Do you think Eli should have siblings?” I said, as Teri switched to white.
Teri shifted Eli in her lap. “Is that something you’re thinking about?”
“I know Dave wants it,” I said. “A lot of kids. He’s always wanted that.”
“That’s true.” Teri smiled at me. “Well, I’m ready for another one too. Sonya and Cadence are done after twins, and you never know with Maria, she could get bored in another couple years, but I think she’s done too. I had kids mostly so I could be a grandma, you know. I felt it call to my soul. I love hard candy and fanny packs.”
“And glitter face paint.”
“And glitter face paint,” she agreed, turning Eli around. “Want to go look in the mirror?”
He patted his own face and made a questioning noise.
“Mhmm, the mirror.” She stood up, holding Eli a little apart from her body so he couldn’t smear paint on her. “Leslie, will you grab the palette and the cup and stick those in the sink?”
I followed her in, holding the paint set, as she stopped in the guest bathroom to show Eli his own face. He gave a yell of pure terror as soon as he saw his reflection. Cadence appeared from the kitchen and hurried over to them with her phone.
“Leslie, you’re welcome, I’m capturing this on video,” she said. “It’s genetic. Oh my God, I’m sending this to Maria and David right now.” She cackled, and I heard Eli screaming on the playback as she hit SEND.
“Are you sure you’re not staying for dinner?” Teri asked over Eli’s sobs.
“No, I should take him—” I snatched Eli out of her hands. “Thank you for handling him all day.”
“I love you, my darling,” Teri told him, kissing him on the head. “I’m sorry I am so good an artist that I scared you right out your pants.”
Eli whimpered, while Cadence laughed.
“He’s a good baby, Leslie,” Teri told me. “You should think about making more of him.”
* * *
—
I didn’t go home. I went the opposite way, crossing the river toward Taylor Ranch. I followed the streets, thinking how much this neighborhood looked like the one I grew up in. I could imagine high school romance here, small weddings, babies in the kiddie pool out back.
The house I was looking for was on Flor Del Rey. It was absolutely ordinary, a single-story adobe with a big picture window in the front, a couple of evergreens shading the right side of the house. In the short tiled driveway, I could see Dave’s car. There was an old OBAMA BIDEN 2012 sticker on the bumper, and the Steve Nash bobblehead Cadence had given him wobbled in the rear windshield.
I didn’t know why I still checked. I knew he would be here. I’d known for a long time. Before, I used to call him. I wanted to hear him lie to me. Now I just drove by. It was enough to see his car in her driveway.
In a way it was almost a relief, knowing what I was about to do.
Eli was asleep in the back with the ring of keys in his mouth. His breathing grew labored, and I reached around to pull the keys out. “You ready to go home?” I whispered.
40
Robin
I make her sound so cruel, but Leslie wasn’t only cruel. I really loved her, you know; that’s the thing people get wrong about love. They think the closer you are to someone, the more they narrow; that love shears you down to the slimmest core, as if people contained seeds you could fish out and keep, saying, That’s the real you; all the rest is just flesh.
But it’s the other way around. The more you know someone, the more someones you know. They kaleidoscope outward before your eyes. If you feel you’re finally getting a handle on someone’s true self, you haven’t got a clue. Once you’ve met forty versions of them, then you can comfort yourself you’re getting closer.
I’ve seen a hundred Leslies, at least.
Here’s another Leslie:
Winter, late nineties. Eleven years old, with long sloppy bangs like Meg Ryan. She comes scrambling over the wall behind the abandoned gas station. “Tommy said you were back here,” she pants. “What are you—”
Her eyes flick between me and Placky, who’s lying on the ground.