Kathleen has been back in town for almost two weeks. Has she contacted me? No. Do I want her to? No. I keep thinking that. I tell myself she doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. According to my way of thinking, Kathleen was my portal of entry into the world. That is the sum of it.

So why does it sting? Why do I feel snubbed? Grandma Carolyn says it's natural. Every child wants his or her mother. But I've never known her. She has never fed me, burped me, changed me or held me. There is no connection. The word mother and the name Kathleen have never been used in the same sentence.

Grandma Carolyn says to have a good male-female relationship you draw on the references of your parents. She pauses and I guess my dad comes to mind because she shakes her head and qualifies it. "Most people do, anyhow."

"So what does that mean, I'm SOL?"

"SOL? What is that?"

I try not to laugh as I envision her face if I say shit outta luck. So I amend it. "So outta luck."

"No. You're a smart and sensitive boy. Just don't be afraid to let your feelings show."

"Huh?"

"Tell her she's pretty, fun to be with. Just don't be all macho."

Macho. Who is she kidding? Rory French is definitely not macho. Every fight I have ever been involved with, I have either talked my way out of it, or gone down talking. No, Grandma Carolyn, you can put that thought out of your head.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I think that maybe I should try to get to know Kathleen. Perhaps meeting on neutral ground would be a good start.

Tomorrow I am going to go to Llarado's, talk to Kathleen. With any luck, we can develop a mature relationship.




I kind of lie to Charla and tell her I need to do some more research at the library. She drops me off promising to come back in an hour and a half. She is still frightened of my dad and his falling off the wagon. She calls almost everyday and has been spending a lot of her free time at the house.

After saying goodbye, I watch her round the corner, then I start walking down the road towards Llarado's. This area at night can be pretty sketchy. There seems to be a lot of people who just hang around like they got no better place to be. Being six feet tall helps a little bit. If I was scrawnier I'm sure some of them would have messed with me.

I see the tattoo shop and then the marquee comes into view. If I had a cell phone I would take a picture of it, and then I could show people that half of my DNA is famous.

There are a couple of cars in the parking lot. One of them is Cecilly's.

A big chunk of me is ready to turn and run right back to the library. But I'm nearly a full grown man, I can't hide in the safety of the library. I need to find out once and for all if I can ever have a real relationship with Kathleen. Maybe without my dad around to distract her she'll be able to concentrate on me.

The front door is locked up tight. There is a steel grate pulled down over it and fastened to the ground with a huge lock. I walk around to the side of the building and I see another door. I'm guessing it's how the dancers and bartenders get inside.

Get yourself together, Rory. Just knock and tell whoever answers that you need to speak with Kathleen. Man up. I go over and over this mantra as I walk towards the door.

So I do it. I knock loudly on the door and wait for some big hairy bouncer to come open the door, tell me to hit the bricks and then twist me into a human pretzel when I resist. But instead of a beast on two legs opening the door, a short, strawberry blonde appears. She doesn't look any older than me.

"Oh, hey, we don't open until nine," she says, revealing a gap toothed smile.

"I'm here to speak to Kathleen."

"Who?"

"Kathleen Gedes," I say, trying to look over her head and see down the darkened corridor.

"She's kind of busy."

"I just need to talk to her for a second. I'm Rory."

The girl rolls her eyes and grins. "Hang on, I'll go tell her." She closes the door leaving me out in the cold.

When the door finally opens, I see her standing there. Kathleen has a white robe on and these curlers that are the size of soup cans in her hair. Her big green eyes are full of excitement.

"Hey, Rory. Is your daddy here?"

"No. I came by myself."

She does nothing to hide her disappointment. "What do you want?"

My confidence starts to wane. "I was just wondering if maybe we could talk."

She shakes her head impatiently. "I don't got time for that."

"But I just thought we could get to know each other better. We don't have to do it right now. We could meet for coffee or just take a walk."

She offers nothing. Nothing to take away the desperate feeling that is building in my gut. She just waits until I'm done and then, without missing a beat, she reaches for the door, "I don't want to."

One half of me takes off. The half grown man has vanished, leaving the boy in me to face reality.