Mortal Bonds by Michael Sears Page A

it.”
    “Do the fish drive cars?”
    “They’ve got sharks. All kids love sharks.”
    “My boy is one in a million,” I said. “But best of luck.”
    “I’ll pick him up at nine.”
    “That’s a long drive to go to an aquarium. Isn’t there one in Brooklyn?”
    “Well, I thought we could go to the outlet mall while we’re out there.”
    “Pop. Why would you want to go to an outlet mall?” He worked behind a bar. He wore a white shirt and black pants six days a week.
    “Not me. I’m bringing a friend.”
    “You have a friend who likes to hit the outlet malls?”
    “A female friend.”
    My father had a girlfriend. Holy crap. I mean, why not? But still. Holy crap.
    “Pop. Is this a serious friend?”
    “Define ‘serious.’”
    “Meet-the-family serious. Go-shopping-at-the-mall-together serious. As in how long has this been going on and you haven’t told me until now? That kind of serious.”
    “Son, you’re a grown-up. I don’t have to report to you anymore.”
    “Spoken like a true rebel. That’s great. I’m happy for you. What’s this gold digger’s name?”
    “Estrella. And besides being good-looking, kind, and recently widowed, she is also loaded. Her husband was Paulie Ramirez. He owned half the Laundromats between here and Astoria. They were regulars at my place—Dewar’s and soda and Bacardi and Diet Coke—until he got the cancer.”
    I remembered the couple. They’d been coming in to my father’s bar once a week for thirty years or more. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “Yeah, well, he was a good bit older, and he went quickly. In the end, that’s what we all hope for.”
    “And for a first date, you’re going to test how well my son behaves at a shopping mall. You are either a masochist or a sadist. I thought you liked this woman.”
    “It is not a first date, and my grandson is always perfectly behaved when he’s with me. You make such a fuss. He’s a good kid.”
    I thought the single grandparent’s bands of what was considered acceptable behavior were considerably wider than mine. Or maybe he just kept the Kid well bribed. New toy cars and plenty of vanilla ice cream could work wonders in the right setting.
    “He’s a great kid. Just don’t spoil him too much, okay?”
    “Hah! Do you spoil him? If I don’t, who will?”
    I quietly ceded the point.
    “Are you ready for a challenge?” I said.
    He chuckled. “What do you need?”
    “Not me. The Kid. Buy him some new sneakers while you’re at the mall.”
    “With the flashing lights?”
    I never knew what the Kid was going to like and what would send him into screaming fits. He might be so fascinated with the little light show, he would try to watch his own heels when he walked and trip over his own feet.
    “White ones with Velcro. After that, take your lead from him.”
    “I can handle this one, big fella. Thanks for your confidence in your old man.”
    “Want to go for the grand prize?”
    “Where did you learn pushy? I never taught you,” he grumbled, half in jest. “All right, what else?”
    “Bathing suits. Solid colors only, and at least one all black.”
    “They sell kids’ bathing suits in black? For all the little Goth kids who like to swim, I guess.”
    “And no logos or writing.”
    “I’m taking notes. What else are you up to? Doing anything fun?”
    “I heard from Angie last night.”
    “Oh, boy.”
    “Yeah. She’s coming to visit. Wants to connect with the Kid.”
    “Oh, boy.”
    “Uh-huh. She also wants to talk with me. She says she has some things she wants to clear up.”
    “Wonderful. Can’t she just e-mail you like a normal person?”
    “I told the Kid this morning.”
    “Yeah? How’d he take it?”
    “He’s not speaking to me. I think he’s scared.”
    “We should all be scared. She’s a scary lady. What does your girlfriend say?”
    “I haven’t told her yet.”
    “Oh, boy.”
    “No, it’s okay. I haven’t seen her. I’m going to her graduation this