Chapter Eleven
Mika bustled around the kitchen six hours later, cracking open the oven and checking the homemade macaroni and cheese. Leif peered over her shoulder. “Jesus, how much cheese is in that?” The white béchamel sauce had just started to bubble up.
“Over one and a half pounds of cheddar and Gruyère.” Another expense. As it turned out, faking your life cost a lot. Mika shut the oven and skirted around Leif to the fridge to get a bin of salad. “I got the recipe off Martha Stewart.”
Leif rubbed the curve of his bicep. “Remember when Martha Stewart and Snoop Dogg were friends?” Mika chose not to answer. She dumped the salad into a silver dish. He picked up one of the decorative lemons from a fruit bowl. “Fake,” he murmured. He placed it back and turned to Mika. “Do you think I should have dressed up more?” He wore a collared shirt untucked and a pair of jeans.
Mika set down the salad tongs. As if she wasn’t nervous enough already, Leif was making it worse. “Leif.”
“Whoa. Haven’t heard that tone in a long time. Takes me back.” He mock-shivered.
Mika narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you high right now?”
Leif huffed. “Of course not. Now that I’m a professional, I can’t get high off my own supply.”
Mika groaned. “That is your final drug reference for the evening.”
“You brought it up,” he teased. He lowered his body, bracing his hands on his knees so they were face-to-face. “It’s going to be fine. I promise. I memorized all the notes you sent me. And you look great. Very Julia Child about to make a roast chicken.”
The tension eased from Mika’s shoulders. “Thanks,” she said, then eyed the clock on the oven. “They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“So, how are they?” Leif straightened, taking a fake lemon from the bowl and rolling it between his giant palms. “What’s she like in person?”
Mika didn’t have to think about it. “Amazing. She’s amazing.” She beamed, dazzled by her daughter. “I’m excited for you to meet her, actually.” Penny was someone Mika wanted to share with others. Maybe that’s how Hiromi felt back when Mika danced, the insane urge to call people, brag about the person you created. Everything they do is because of ME.
“And the dad?”
Mika deflated at the mention of Thomas. “He’s tough. I can’t tell if he doesn’t like me or if he just doesn’t like the world. It’s clear he loves Penny, though.” She thought of him at the food trucks, hands spilling over with oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, the careful way he watched his daughter as if he couldn’t stand the thought of her ever hurting.
The doorbell rang. “Shit, they’re early.” Mika stared at Leif like he knew what to do. “I still need to finish the salad.”
“You get the door. I’ll finish up.” He shooed her away, and Mika ran to the door, forcing herself to slow a few steps before the threshold. She tucked her hair behind her ear and pasted on a bright smile before swinging open the door.
Thomas and Penny stood on the front step, their Uber pulling away behind them. Thomas wore a navy suit, no tie, and Penny sported a skirt and blouse. “Shoot,” Penny said. “I knew we shouldn’t have dressed up. I told you,” she said pointedly to her dad.
Thomas flashed a grin, the picture of cool evil in his suit. He ran his eyes up and down Mika’s jeans and T-shirt. “Better to be overdressed than underdressed.”
“You guys look great.” Mika forced a smile, opening the door wider. Thomas hesitated. “Come on in. Leif’s in the kitchen, and dinner is almost ready.”
“Are we early?” Penny asked, stepping into the house. “I told Dad we should have walked around the block or something.”
“You’re right on time,” Mika said.
At last, Thomas strolled in. Hands in his pockets, he looked around. He stopped right under where Tuan had repaired the crack in the ceiling. Mika had a sudden vision of the plaster splintering and falling. “Leif, meet Penny . . . and Thomas,” she said, corralling the two toward the kitchen.
Leif set down the knife he’d been cutting vegetables with, wiped his hands, and offered one to Thomas. He shook with Thomas first, then Penny.
Penny, with the energy and exuberance of a squirrel, pumped Leif’s palm up and down. “This is awesome. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Likewise.” Leif smiled and turned to Mika, disentangling himself from Penny. “Why don’t you three head outside? We thought since the evening is nice, we’d eat on the patio. I’ll bring the food out.”
“You will?” Mika asked, stunned. The only food Leif had ever brought to Mika was from a paper bag.
“Of course. Go on. Men belong in the kitchen as much as women.”
Mika smiled for Penny and Thomas’s benefit, then turned to Leif. “Tone it down,” she coughed into her hand. She led Thomas and Penny through the living room.
Penny paused to gaze at the photos on the mantle. “All your travels,” she said warmly. Mika stopped too, shoulder to shoulder with Penny. There Mika was, or at least an avatar, smiling in the Pompeii ruins, in the House of Mysteries. Behind her, a fresco with distinctive red paint—cinnabar. Next photo over, she was in the Louvre grinning in front of the Mona Lisa.
Thomas nosed in, eyes squinting. Could he see what Mika saw? That the light wasn’t quite right? That the shadows and highlights violated the laws of physics? “Let’s go outside,” Mika said. She ushered them out the door, face blooming pink.
In the backyard, the fairy lights Mika had hung reflected and glowed in Penny’s dark eyes. “It’s exactly like your Instagram photo!”
Thomas toed the hole in the ground where Hana had pulled up the tree. “You have gophers here?”
“What?” Mika frowned, her face only starting to cool. “No. Just doing some landscaping. You know houses, the work is never done.”
“You should put some dirt in that. Someone could trip and twist an ankle,” said Thomas.
“Isn’t this nice, Dad?” Penny said. “It’s still snowing outside back home. I didn’t know Portland had such warm springs.”
Mika swallowed. “It’s rare. It seems you brought the sunshine with you.” She stared at Penny tenderly and tried to manage her happiness levels. How right this all felt, having Penny here. How domestic.
They settled at the picnic table. Leif appeared with the macaroni and cheese plus salad. They dished up. Mika had lit the candles in the hurricane vases, and they ate in silence by soft candlelight for a bit.
“So, how did you two meet?” Thomas asked, wiping his mouth.
“How’d we meet?” Mika’s eyes leaped to Leif, the bite of macaroni she’d just taken lodged in her throat. Shit. They’d never discussed their couple’s origin story, the fake one. The real one was Hana had gone to buy drugs from Leif, they’d all gotten high, and Mika had hooked up with him. Casual sex turned to regular sex, and then Mika was cohabitating with Leif. It occurred to Mika how so in little control of her life she’d been the last few years. Falling into jobs. Into a relationship with Leif. Into the next day and the next.
Leif set down his fork. “You know, Mika tells it better. You go ahead.” He grinned at her, a dare in his brown eyes.
“Well.” Mika gripped the edge of the table. Her stomach flipped, and a rush of blood slid up her neck. “I was out to dinner with a couple artist friends from . . .” She paused, searched her memory for a place, a destination, anything.
“Greece,” Leif interjected easily. “They were from Greece, right?”
“That’s right. And Leif was there too? I can’t remember why though?” She scrunched her nose up and stared at Leif.
Leif sipped his wine before answering. “For work.”
“What is it you do?” Thomas asked Leif. “Penny said something about agriculture but didn’t know any specifics.”
“I am in agriculture. Mika thinks it’s pretty boring, so I’m sure that’s why she didn’t get into specifics. I work mostly in the biochemistry field. I do freelance consulting with universities, a government contract here and there, that kind of stuff.” Mika breathed out. That sounded good. Believable. “What about you?” Leif asked Thomas.
Thomas put down his fork and knife. “I’m a copyright attorney. I have my own practice in Dayton. A far cry from the firefighter I wanted to be when I was ten,” he joked.
“Not everyone can follow their passion. But I think it’s important to take risks. Take the Portland Naked Bike Ride, for example—”
“Penny,” Mika said a little too loudly. “I almost forgot I have a gift for you.”
“You do?” Penny brightened.
“Be right back.” Mika grabbed the scrapbook from the house and returned, placing it in front of her.
“Leif, would you mind getting dessert?” Mika stared at Leif as Penny touched the corner of the album.
“Course not,” Leif announced. He knocked the table once and stood. Mika mouthed a silent thank-you at him.
“It’s nothing big,” Mika said as Penny slid a hand over the linen cover. “Just some pictures of me when I was your age . . .”
Thomas was quiet for a moment, then said, “This is nice of you.”
Penny looked up, her eyes shining. “Yeah.” She flipped through the pages.
When Penny stopped at a snapshot of Mika when she was sixteen, Mika spoke up. “God, I was so awkward at sixteen. Not nearly as confident as you. You have your parents to thank for that, I think.” Thomas’s eyes flashed toward Mika, the corner of his mouth curling into a genuine smile of appreciation. Mika cleared her throat. “I’d convinced my parents to let me get a perm. Only we couldn’t afford to do the whole head, so I only had my bangs done.”
Penny laughed, then sobered. “Is there a picture of your parents?” She asked it quietly, as if she were afraid to but couldn’t afford not to.
“There is,” Mika said, glad she’d included one. “Toward the back, I think.”
“Do they live nearby?” Thomas asked, his deep voice startling Mika.
“They do, but, um, they’re on a cruise right now,” she told Penny.
Penny nodded but kept turning the pages one by one, soaking it all in. She stopped at a page, and Mika rose in her seat to see what had caught her attention. The photograph of Mika pregnant.
“I’m in there,” Penny said, tracing the outline of Mika’s swollen belly with a finger. “What was it like? Being pregnant with me?”
Thomas’s eyes darted toward Mika, and her heart buoyed in her chest. “What was it like?” she repeated, tapping her lips, pretending to conjure the memory. Even though she didn’t need to. It was always alive inside of her, tangled around her bones, threatening to drag her under. All those months of growing a baby she wasn’t sure she would hate or love. She shouldn’t have ever had any doubts. When she’d pushed Penny out, it had been love at first sight, flowing as naturally as the blood in the cord between them. But how could she tell Penny that? And in front of Thomas? “Well, I was pretty sure you were trying to kill me.” She injected humor into her voice. “Food didn’t stay down the first trimester. Then the second trimester, I had heartburn so bad it felt as if I’d swallowed a small volcano. I couldn’t sleep without being fully upright. And the final act, the third trimester, the simple notion of bending down and putting on shoes nearly suffocated me.” There wasn’t a part of Mika’s body Penny hadn’t colonized.
Penny laughed, and Thomas grinned too. “You’ve been feisty from the beginning,” he said to his daughter.
Penny laughed again. So did Mika, her face lifted to the crescent moon. She tried to tell herself this moment didn’t mean that much. That her heart didn’t suddenly feel open and endless like the summer. That it wasn’t like she was eighteen again and just starting out. When the world had been at her feet. When her life had been thick paint, vibrant colors, and bold strokes.