Continuation

. Me, sitting in

front of my dad on the couch. My dad, telling me something I don't

care to hear.

"I would have told you sooner, Miles. I just—"

"Felt guilty?" I interrupt

. "Like you're doing something wrong?"

His eyes meet mine, and I begin to feel bad for saying what I said,

but I push the feeling down and keep going.

"She's been dead less than a year."

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to throw up.

He doesn't like being judged, especially by me.

He's used to my

supporting his decisions. Hell, I'm used to supporting his decisions.

Until now, I always thought he made good ones.

"Look, I know this is hard for you to accept, but I need your support.

You have no idea how hard it's been for me to move on since she died."

"Hard?" I'm standing. I'm raising my voice. I'm acting like I give a

shit for some reason, when I really don't. I could care less that he's

already dating again. He can see whoever he wants. He can screw

whoever he wants.

I think the only reason I'm reacting this way is because she can't. It's

hard to defend your marriage when you're dead. That's why I'm doing it

for her.

"It's obviously not very hard for you at all, Dad."

I walk to the opposite end of the living room.

I walk back.

The house is too damn small to fit all of my frustration and

disappointment.

I look at him again, recognizing that it's not so much the fact that

he's seeing someone already. It's the look he gets in his eyes when he

talks about her that I hate. I never saw him look at my mother that way,

so whoever she is, I know it's not a casual thing. She's about to seep into

our lives, intertwining around and through and between my relationship

with my father like she's poison. It'll no longer be just my father and

me. It'll be me, my father, and Tina. It doesn't feel right, considering my

mother's presence is still everywhere in this house.

He's sitting with his hands folded in front of him, clasped together.

He's looking down at the floor.

"I don't know if this will go anywhere, but I want to give it a shot.

Tina makes me happy. Sometimes moving on is . . . the only way to

move on."

I open my mouth to respond to him, but my words are cut off by the

doorbell. He looks up at me, hesitantly coming to a stand. He seems,smaller. Less heroic.

"I'm not asking you to like her. I'm not asking you to spend time

with her. I just want you to be nice to her." His eyes are pleading with

me, and it makes me feel guilty for being so resistant.

I nod. "I will, Dad. You know I will."

He hugs me, and it feels good and bad. It feels as

though I just hugged a tree.

He asks me to get the door while he heads back to the kitchen to

finish dinner, so I do. I close my eyes and let my mom know that I'm

going to be nice to Tina, but she'll always just be Tina to me, no matter

what happens between her and Dad. I open the door.

"Evans?"

I look at her face, and it's completely opposite from my mother's face.

This makes me feel good. She's a lot shorter than my mother. She's not

as pretty as my mother, either. There's nothing about her that can be

compared to my mother, so I don't even try. I accept her for what she is:

our dinner guest.

I nod and open the door wider to let her in. "You must be Tina. Good

to meet you." I point behind me. "My father is in the kitchen."

Tina leans forward and gives me a hug—one that I successfully make

awkward after it takes me several seconds to hug her back.

My eyes meet the eyes of the girl standing behind her.

The eyes of the girl standing behind her meet mine.

You're

gonna

fall

in

love

with

me,

Precious!

"Evans?" she says in a broken whisper.

Precious sounds a little bit like her mother, but sadder.

Tina looks back and forth between us. "You know each other?"

Precious doesn't nod.

Neither do I.

Our disappointment melts to the floor and combines in a pool of

premature tears at our feet.

"He, um, . . . he . . ."

Precious is stuttering, so I help her finish her words. "I go to school with Precious" I blurt out.

I regret saying that, because what I want to

say is, Precious is the next girl I'm gonna fall in love with.

I can't say that, though, because it's obvious what's bound to happen.

Precious isn't the next girl I'll fall in love with, because Precious is the girl who will more than likely become my new stepsister.

For the second time tonight, I feel sick.

Tina smiles and clasps her hands together. "That's great," she says. "I'm

so relieved."

My father walks into the room. He hugs Tina. He says hi to Precious and

tells her it's good to see her again.

My father already knows Precious.

Precious already knows my father.

My father is Tina's new boyfriend.

My father visits The North West a lot.

My father has been visiting Bamenda a lot since before my mother died.

"Precious and Evans already know each other," Tina says to my father.

He smiles, and relief floods his face. "Good. Good," he says, repeating

the word twice as if it could make things better.

No.

Bad. Bad.

"That'll make tonight a lot less awkward," he says with a laugh.

I look back at Precious.

Precious looks at me.

Her eyes are sad.

My thoughts are sadder.

She slowly walks inside, avoiding my gaze as she watches her feet with

each step. They're the saddest steps I've ever seen taken.

I close the door.

It's the saddest door I've ever had to close.