The Many Daughters of Afong Moy(97)
19 Dorothy
(2045)
Dorothy climbed the steps of the Beacon Hill brownstone that Graham shared with his husband, Clarke, and felt the eerie calm in the air swallowed up by the first gusts of Typhoon Tenjin. With Annabel in her arms, she knocked on the front door as rows of cherry trees that lined the street, planted by a previous generation, began bending in the storm. The surfaces of puddles, filled with algae, rippled as though the pools of standing water were alive. The windows of the stately building had all been covered with plywood. From a season of construction to one of destruction, apparently Mother Nature had little patience for gentrification.
“Why are we here?” Annabel asked, her hair blowing in the wind as Dorothy rested her on a hip and knocked again.
“You’re going to stay with Uncle Graham for a tiny bit, Baby-bel. You remember Uncle Graham and Uncle Clarke? It’s safe here, the water can’t get us, and Mommy will go buy some groceries for a nice, big dinner.”
Dorothy tried to smile. “Okay?”
Annabel hesitated, then nodded.
Dorothy was about to knock again when the door opened.
“There they are!” Graham said as he stood in the doorway. “I can’t tell you how happy Clarke was when I shared your text with him. We’re so excited to have you over, even with the dreadful weather and all that’s going on.”
“Are you excited to see me or Annabel?” Dorothy asked as she stepped inside, trying to remain calm even though her mind was clouded by the thought of having to fight Louis and his mother for custody. That and Dorothy wearied for lack of sleep.
Annabel reached for Graham.
“Both,” Graham said. “You’re both dolls, but I can only carry one of you.” He took Annabel in his arms and gave her a nuzzle and a bounce. “How’s my little Toto?”
Annabel laughed and hugged him.
“You might have to fight to get this one back,” Graham said.
Dorothy allowed herself to relax, to enjoy a moment of acceptance. She smiled as she spotted Clarke in the kitchen making breakfast, bacon from the smell of it.
“There they are!” Clarke grinned. “The weather girls.” He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and stepped away from the stove to hug Dorothy and kiss her cheek. “Graham said you have to run off for a bit, but won’t you at least stay for breakfast? I made bagels with bacon cream cheese, red onion, and cilantro. I’m also making polenta lasagna and a Tuscan salad. Might even try my hand at homemade soup dumplings. Trying to cook all I can and get everything in containers in case the power goes out.”
“You mean when the power goes out,” Graham shouted from the living room.
“I’m being an optimist.” Clarke shrugged.
“I’d love to, but I don’t have time,” Dorothy apologized as she noticed the fireplace, felt the comforting warmth. “I’ll take a rain check, no pun intended.”
“Well, I’ll save you some in case you change your mind later,” Clarke said, lowering his voice. “Speaking of changing your mind, Graham tells me you’re taking a little break. A much-needed respite. That the weather report is just cover for the real storm at home.” Clarke’s smile changed to a look of solemnity. “I’m so sorry, Dot. You deserve better. You and Toto are both welcome to stay here with us—we have a guest bedroom, you’ll have your own bath—stay as long as you need.”
Dorothy thanked him, almost moved to tears by the compassion of friends whom she’d neglected for far too long. “I’m okay. I just need to do something before the storm gets worse. Are you sure it’s not a burden to take Annabel for a while?”
“Are you kidding me?” Graham said, rejoining the conversation while still carrying Annabel. He made faces until she was giggling. “Any excuse to eat pizza rolls and hang out in our pajamas all day watching Disney movies is like a slice of heaven. The way I see it, having a kid is the next best thing to being a kid, and as you can tell, I’m not getting any younger despite the latest anti-aging treatments and skin rejuvenations. This will be my fountain of youth right here.” He spun around with Annabel in his arms. “Okay, now I’m dizzy.” He set her down and helped her off with her coat and shoes.
“More like the fountain of immaturity,” Clarke teased. He handed Dorothy a mug of coffee. “Splash of cream and some cinnamon, just the way you like it.”
Dorothy noticed the graphic on the mug, an armadillo sitting in the lotus position like the Buddha. Beneath the artwork was the word KARMADILLO.
“At least warm yourself up a bit before you head out again,” Clarke said. “It’s crazy out there and it’s only getting worse. I heard they’ve closed the floating bridges and people have twenty-four hours to evacuate the waterfront. The subway will be shut down as well, as soon as all the city dwellers are done heading for the hills.”
Dorothy remembered the storms in Burma. The lightning, the wind, the horizontal rain.
“Are you okay, Dot?” Clarke asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Dorothy sat down at their breakfast counter. She watched Annabel play with Graham. As she sipped her coffee she didn’t know where to begin.
Clarke noticed the awkward silence and whispered, “Did you finally realize you’re way too good for that man? I mean, it’s been obvious from where Graham and I are that you’re the runner and Louis has been the chaser, and for too long you pretended you couldn’t go any faster. But Dottie, dear, you could run laps around that man, laps.”