Circles by Marilyn Sachs Page B

next Sunday,” Mark said quickly, knowing that his father had also forgotten, and not wanting to show that he’d noticed. “But he’s going on an overnight with the scouts next weekend so Mom decided to have the party today.”
    “Oh right,” said his father. “It’s next week. That’s why I was surprised.”
    “She wants me to come over right away. The party’s starting at one. I was wondering if you’re going to need the van today. It will take me three times as long if I go by BART.”
    “I was hoping you’d spend the day with me,” said his father. “With me and Barbara and her daughter. We’re going to drive out to Tiburon, have lunch, and maybe take the ferry over to Angel Island if there’s time. She and her daughter like to hike around Angel Island.”
    “It sounds great, Dad, and I’d really love to go, but it is Jeddy’s birthday party. I’ve never missed one of his birthday parties, and Mom says ...”
    “Sure, sure,” said his father. “That’s more important. Maybe I’ll give you some money for Jeddy, and you can tell him he can buy anything he likes with it.”
    Mark didn’t say anything. His father always sent money and told them to buy what they liked, but Mom never let them spend it all. Usually she gave them just a little bit of it and spent the rest on clothes or things they needed.
    “Do you think he’d like that?” his father asked.
    “I don’t know, Dad,” Mark told him. “Maybe he’d like you to buy him something.”
    “Like what?” his father said helplessly. “What’s he interested in? Is he like you? Does he like astronomy and telescopes?”
    “No,” Mark said. “Right now, all he’s interested in is baseball.”
    “Great, great,” said his father. “I’ll take him to some games next year. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll write him a letter. You can take it with you, and I’ll tell him we’ve got a date—more than one date—we’ll work it out. And tell him I’ll definitely take him to opening night—to a tailgate party—that’s what I’ll do. Tell him—never mind—I’ll tell him myself.”
    “He’ll like that,” Mark said as his father stood up. “He’ll really like that. But Dad I guess that means you’ll need the van today.”
    “No, not necessarily,” his father said. “Barbara’s got a car—one of those little subcompacts. Maybe we can take her car, and then you can have the van.”
    “Well, I don’t want to create any problems.”
    “She’s not like that, Mark,” his father said earnestly. “She’s a real up-front kind of woman. I never felt so comfortable with anybody before. I mean she’s real smart but she doesn’t throw it around, and she’s kind of like a kid. I guess she’s had a rough time of it. Her husband died—he had leukemia—and she’s been on her own ever since with a daughter to take care of. She’s no whiner, but I can see she hasn’t had an easy time of it, and everything we do, every place we go, it’s new to her.”
    “You sound like you like her a lot,” Mark said uneasily.
    His father nodded. “I do, Mark,” he said. “I like her a lot. I don’t know what she thinks about me. I mean, I know she likes me. I know she has a good time with me. She looks at me sometimes when I’m talking to her, and there are lights in her eyes. I swear, Mark, there are lights in her eyes, and her cheeks get pink. She’s so ... so ... sweet. I never met anybody like her.”
    He’s got it bad, Mark thought, and there was a hurt place inside of him. Was it for his mother? Or was it for himself because no girl had ever looked at him with lights in her eyes?
    His father had stopped talking and was standing there, lost in some kind of reverie that did not include Mark.
    “So about the van?” Mark resumed.
    “Oh, right, right. Just wait a minute, Mark. I’ll give her a ring.”
    Mark busied himself over his breakfast. He smeared some peanut butter on his toast and ate standing up. He could hear his