LITMIR.BIZ

       3

      DOWNSTAIRS IN THE kitchen, Hudson’s dad was kneeling in front of the fridge, moving things around to make way for a case of soda.

      “Hey, Pop,” Hudson said.

      “Hey, son.” Hudson’s dad finished up in the fridge before standing and turning around. His glance went to Leila. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.” He offered a smile, then stepped around them to leave the kitchen. “Do you mind getting the grill started? I’m gonna hop in the shower.” He took a step toward the stairs, then stopped and looked back at Leila. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner, if you’d like.”

      “I’d love to,” Leila said.

      “Burgers okay?”

      “Always,” she said. “Thank you, Mr....?”

      “Call me Walter,” he said, offering his hand with a smile. Then he turned to Hudson. “You’re gonna get some rest after dinner?”

      “Of course. I was planning to sleepwalk all the way to Jackson so I could be as well-rested as possible before the interview.”

      “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Just because you’re going to be a doctor?”

      “You think I’m clever, too, Dad. Ever since I taught you how to connect to wireless internet, you’ve considered me a genius.”

      “Don’t give this one any compliments,” Walter said to Leila, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “He’ll never forget them.” He was tall, still taller than Hudson but thinner, with wiry muscles. The rest of their features they shared: the same strong jaw and big brown eyes. Hudson thought of his dad as young, or at least not yet old, so it was a shock every time he noticed just how gray his hair had turned. “All right, I’ll see you guys outside, then.”

      When he was about halfway up the stairs, Leila called out, “You have a lovely home!”

      “Thank you,” he called back, his voice fading as he climbed the stairs and closed his bedroom door.

      “He’s so sweet,” Leila said.

      “Yeah,” Hudson said, picking at a splinter on a kitchen cabinet.

      “What interview do you have to be well-rested for?”

      “I have this interview with the dean of admissions at Ole Miss. It’s to see if they’re going to offer me a full scholarship.”

      “Wow. That’s impressive.”

      Hudson shrugged. “I guess. My dad knows the guy, so he helped set up the interview, and that’s why he’s a little paranoid about it.” Not wanting to think about tomorrow, when Leila might no longer be around, Hudson moved toward the back door. “Let’s get the grill going.”

      Leila nodded and helped him grab a few things from the kitchen; then they went out to the backyard to light the charcoal. The air had cooled pleasantly with the oncoming dusk, only a few streaks of orange light breaking through gaps in the trees where cicadas buzzed. It was a large yard, the grass bright green and healthy. A toolshed stood in the middle, not far off from the fire pit that Walter had dug and lined with bricks. There were a few tree stumps and camping chairs gathered around the pit in a circle, a crushed beer can forgotten in the weeds from the last time his dad’s friends had come over. Hudson wished that he had some ability to stop time, to hold the Earth’s rotation, so that he could just stand near Leila for a little while longer.

      “So, a doctor, huh?”

      “Yeah, but it’s not a big deal,” Hudson said. “Nothing like that seeing-through-doors trick.”

      “Superpower, not a trick,” Leila corrected, grabbing a match and tossing it onto the pile of charcoal. “And I’m sure you have some powers of your own.”

      “Not really.” At that moment, the only superpower he felt he had was that he could spend time with someone like Leila and have her want to stay around for dinner.

      “Bullshit,” she said, giving him a friendly hip check. “Ranting,” she pointed out. “I could listen to you rant about treasures all day.”

      Hudson tried and failed to keep the size of his smile under control, especially when he noticed that she was smiling back at him. “I’m also pretty damn good at setting a table,” he said, trying to draw attention away from his blushing. “I can do it with one hand. And I don’t even have to look up online which side the knife is supposed to be on.”

      “I knew you were holding out on me.”

      “I’ll show you,” he said, and he went about setting the table with an exaggerated care that he hoped was funny. Leila took a seat and watched him, a smile on her face. When he was done, he sat next to her as they waited for the coals to heat.

      This was Hudson’s favorite time of the year, favorite time of day, favorite spot of his house. It was the first time in a while that he was sitting there without a book in front of him. He’d almost forgotten how enjoyable his backyard was when he could simply sit and look around without having to study. Leila leaned back in her patio chair and put her legs up, resting her heels on Hudson’s lap. She did it so casually that Hudson couldn’t tell just what she meant by it; if she meant anything at all or if she just needed a place to rest her feet and made no distinction between him and any other surface. Or maybe, just maybe, she was as happy to be spending time with him as he was with her.

      Hudson barely moved, focusing on the weight of her feet on his lap. By the time his dad joined them outside, Hudson’s legs were falling asleep. “We were waiting for the coals to get hot,” Hudson said.

      “Well, looks like they’re just about ready to go,” Walter said, even though Hudson knew very well that they’d been ready for a while. Walter grabbed the tray of patties and put three down on the grill, smiling at the satisfying sizzle of the meat beginning to cook.

      “Want some help, Pop?”

      “I’ve got it, thanks.”

      Other fathers might have turned around and winked at their son, or smiled. But Hudson liked his dad’s reserved way of showing affection, the silent acceptance of cooking duties.

      “So, Leila,” Walter asked when the burgers were ready, bringing them to the table, “Hudson tells me you’re not from Vicksburg. What brings you over here?”

      “I’m zigzagging my way up the country to go see the Northern Lights,” she said.

      Walter picked at the label on his beer, peeling until the corner curled away from the glass. “That’s one hell of a road trip. You’re doing it by yourself?”

      “Yup.” Leila nodded.

      “Well, everyone needs at least one long road trip in their lives,” Walter said. “I was probably about your age when I did mine.”

      “Where’d you go?”

      “California to New York. Sea to shining sea.” He kept peeling the label off, lost in thought. His dad always got that look on his face when he talked about that road trip. Hudson had asked him about it more times than he could remember, but no matter how much Walter told him, Hudson could never really get a feel for what his dad had been like back then. It was strange to think that there was a part of his dad he’d never know, two whole decades’ worth of memories that did not include Hudson.

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