Stephanie could never be a replacement for Emily; just as Emily was never a replacement for Joey. But this reunion with his first born child was a medicine that started working the moment Steve touched her hand in the loft the night before. The next four hours were the best of both worlds, because this was a daughter Steve knew well, yet at a time he didn’t know her at all. What made it even more fitting was that the same could be said of Steve for her.
They were the best four hours Steve had had since he’d left his cherished life 1989. Neither Stephanie nor Steve, for that matter, had any idea of the healing that was happening, they only knew how much they loved each other.
Stephanie took Steve to visit the entire house. She introduced him to her cat and laughed when he admitted that they’d already been re-acquainted. He told Stephanie the story of how they got her, and while she’d already heard it from her mother, she hung on to every word of this new version from her father. Neither story included a kidnapping for the key as ransom.
Stephanie agreed that he could call her Kitty instead of Emily (because anything her papa wanted was ok with her), and marveled at how the feline Johnson of the family really did seem to know him.
“She’s not good with strangers, Papa. She must remember you, because if she didn’t she’d be hiding.” Warm affection for the long lost cat he’d now gotten to revisit again spread through him. The satisfaction of knowing that she remembered him was more important to him than he’d realized. It was a subconscious connection to the past he was ripped away from that it represented to him.
In a related set of introductions, Stephanie acquainted her father with every single one of the stuffed animals that lived at the foot of her bed. Each one had a name and there seemed to be a pecking order depending on the day of the week. Steve knew these were the special ones – the survirors, so to speak – as he actually recognized not one but three of them that by 2009 were living on his daughter’s dresser and had seen much better days. Steve felt the paradox of the timeline push in on him when he acknowledged to himself that this was one of those better days.
The house wasn’t very big, so the tour did not take very long, but Steve enjoyed it thoroughly. Even the loft, which he’d already made himself more than at home in, Stephanie went to great effort to share with him. They looked through photo albums, she pointed out her favorite pictures, and she made a couple of confessions.
“Don’t be mad about this …”
“I couldn’t be mad at you, baby.”
“… but I play with your train sometimes.”
Steve felt an immediate melancholy. The amplication effect latched onto it as soon as he felt it and amped it up. But his daughter was confiding something important in him, so he forced himself to pass it by on that buffet of emotions that were in his worst interest to indulge in.
“Mama caught me with it once. I found a box of your things. It had pictures of Aunt Adrienne and Grandma Jo when they were younger. You and Mama. Uncle Jack when he was a baby.”
“Do you see your Uncle Jack, Stephanie?” Steve didn’t know what made him ask such a question.
Stephanie shrugged. “Yeah, but not a lot. Aunt Jennifer and Abigail flew in from England once, though! Mama said Uncle Jack was working.” Steve processed that and filed it away, Kayla’s rape fresher in his mind than he wanted it to be; affection for his brother remained, therefore, in short supply. Steve pushed it away as Stephanie went back to the train. “Mama said I wasn’t allowed to play with it. She didn’t yell at me, but she was so mad she hid it. But …,” she trailed off.
“Did you go looking for it?” he asked knowingly. Stephanie nodded again and cast her eyes down to the floor she was sitting cross-legged on. “And let me guess. Your mama doesn’t know.” She shook her head, her emotions so on her sleeve they may as well have been on a billboard.
“I take the train out sometimes and pretend we’re all on it, going on vacation. It doesn’t move good, though, ‘cause … I think I broke it.” Steve admitted, the concept of his train being broken upset him, but he knew good and well that that train in 2009 was exactly the same as it ever was. Which means she didn’t break it. “Are you mad?”
“No, Little Sweetness, I’m not mad.” Stephanie raised her relieved eye to her father. “And I’m pretty sure you didn’t break it.” Stephanie was quite sure she had, however, and shook her head protesting. “Baby, I promise you it’s not. I’ll prove it to ya, why don’t you go get it from it’s hiding spot. Our secret.”
“Really?” Stephanie asked with such enthusiastic hope that Steve’s heart tightened.
“Really, baby, go ‘head.” Sure enough, when she returned with the shoebox, ancient even now yet in very good condition, Steve smiled at its contents. He held the charred locomotive in his palm and made choo-choo sounds like she was a toddler instead of ten. But she smiled genuinely at this, because his clear message through those choo-choo’s was that, as he’d promised, she hadn’t broken anything. And was she ever relieved.
Now fully convinced that she hadn’t damaged the precious embodiment of her father, she started asking all the questions she’d been storing about the other contents of the shoebox. Steve explained all of them in varied levels of detail and veracity until she got to the polaroid picture. Steve took it out and gazed at it. Even in his own timeline, he hadn’t seen this photo is quite some time, and for a moment he was entranced by it. Stephanie watched her father in silence, and for the first time, she saw and felt a tenderess coming from him that she instinctively knew was for her mother. It wasn’t just that he was looking at their picture, it was something more, and she felt a little bit like she was intruding. After a few more moments she broke the silence Steve didn’t realize had fallen.
“Mama doesn’t look at that one as much as the other ones around the house. She likes the ones from your weddings.”
Steve grinned while continuing to look at the polaroid. “She does, does she?”
Stephanie nodded. “I think it’s ‘cause you guys are so happy in them.”
“We’re happy here, too.”
“You are?” Stephanie craned her neck to look over.
“Well not your mama so much. But I was.” He met Stephanie’s confused eye. “It was the first picture that had ever been taken of us, so I was happy to have it,” he winked.
Stephanie tried several more tacks of the same argument in trying to get him to tell her mother that he was back, but Steve dodged every one of them, insisting that he would tell her, but not tonight. She’d ask when, and he’d say to himself, when she gets here. “Maybe tomorrow” eventually satisfied her for now. It was not going to cut it when tomorrow really got here, however, so he just hoped that it was really true.
Steve was able to divert her attention to the current love of her live, the Bluesmobile. Stephanie had been chomping at the bit to tell her father all about that car, plus ask a whole host of questions since last night, And, honestly, Steve was floored at the depth of his little girl’s knowledge. This was no secret to him, she was going to start racing in just six years. But here she was at age ten with a seriously scary understanding of internal combustion engines.
“My daughter the grease monkey.” He said it with such utter pride that Stephanie couldn’t help but channel it into confidence and pride of her own. She sat up very straight and stuck out her chin in a move that had to have been written into her mother’s contribution to her genetic code.
“I know how to get my hands dirty,” she beamed.
“Yeah, and you sure know how to take care of that fine automobile, now, don’t ya?”
It went on like this non-stop all morning. The television never went on, not a single book was cracked open, Stephanie continued to wear the jammies she’d woken up in, and their mouths never stopped moving. Laughter rolled out of both of them as Steve told countless stories about her from when she was a baby, and she told countless stories about him that her mother had first told her. It fascinated him to hear these second-hand retellings of Kayla’s point of view.
A feast of leftovers, frozen waffles, and nearly an entire bunch of grapes was shared, and it was literally the best meal Steve had had in a very long time, the evidence of which he hid at the bottom of the garbage can under a smattering of paper towels. In no time at all four hours had come and gone with father and daughter bonding with unspoken but devoted love.
There was no discussion of where Steve had been.
Whatever story Steve was in the middle of hearing from his 10-year-old daughter dissolved like a dream sequence into reality when Kayla pulled into the driveway so fast it left a layer of rubber on the cement when she screeched to a halt. They both would have cringed at that sound coming out of the Bluesmobile if it weren’t for their impending discovery. A brief look out the mostly draped window revealed the scattered, desperate look on Kayla’s face, and Steve realized that somehow she knew that Mrs. Lopez was not in the house.
The two of them watched helplessly while the bottom fell out of both of their stomachs as Kayla virtually flew out of the car practically before she’d put it in park. Stephanie shot up and gathered her hands into a tight ball under her chin as she laid the widest eyes of her life on him.
“W-w-what do we do?!” she appealed, very much the little girl she was, in a panic that her father was going to go up in smoke. Steve was up and already halfway across the living room.
“You go be sick!” Steve pointed his right arm toward her bedroom as he rapidly backed up toward the kitchen.”
“Papa, no! I-I-I …,” she teared up very quickly, her voice raised in a desperate squeak. “Please don’t go!”
Steve’s heart was breaking. He’d forgotten for a moment, that she just got him back from, literally, her dreams.
“Baby, shh, I’m not goin’ anywhere!” Stephanie lunged for his hand at the same time that Steve saw Kayla barrel up the front walk. “Stephanie, I’m right here, honey, it’s ok!”
“Buuut, I—”
“No time!” He pried himself from her and kissed her hand. I’m only going back to the loft. I’ll tuck you in after Mama’s in bed. I promise! Not a word!” Stephanie bravely nodded her head, buoyed by her father’s promise. I love you! Go!”
In unison, Stephanie dove for her bed, Steve disappeared up the stairs, and Kayla charged in. It all went kind of downhill from there.
“Stephanie!” she yelled completely out of breath. “Baby Girl!” Steve knew that tone. It was the panicked, angry, hopeful tone of not knowing for sure where your child is.
“Um … yeah?” Stephanie replied.
“Oh! Oh, thank God! Are you alright?!” He heard Kayla run down the hall, and he couldn’t help himself, he descended to the last stair and poked his head out so he could hear. Their voices were too muffled by Kayla’s embrace, though, so without thinking, Steve padded out in his stocking feet to the archway.
“Mama, you’re crushing me!” Steve imagined what Kayla looked like when she squeezed all the love she had into Bo when they came home from the Merchant Marines and knew that their daughter was similarly ensnared.
“Why didn’t you call me?!”
“When?”
Steve rubbed at his brow. Stephanie wasn’t the least bit convincing; on the contrary, she sounded like every bit the bad liar she’d always been. You’re such a bad liar, he heard Kayla say to him on more than one occasion, causing Steve to grin without realizing it.
“When?” Kayla repeated incredulously. “When Mrs. Lopez left. I would have come home!”
“Oh, I-I-I didn’t know she left.”
“What?!”
“I was sleeping!” she added way too quickly. “See I didn’t need a sitter, I had plenty of company without her.”
Steve gritted his teeth and bent his knees into a grunt of frustration.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing!”
“Meesees Johnsone!!!” Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when the landlady appeared through the front door out of absolutely nowhere. “I’m here, I not leave the niña! I watch the house all day after I call you! And I saw it in the window, I saw the ghost with mine own—”
Time stood still for the very superstitious woman and the man who did not belong there as they locked eyes. A moment of silence passed by that was so rife with shock that neither of them could move. It was just a moment though. Then the eruption.
The small round woman emitted an ear-splitting scream that bellied the assumed size of her lungs, causing Kayla and Stephanie to startle with yelps of their own. Steve finally realized where the hell he was and turned tail fast before disappearing back up those stairs to … where? Where was he supposed to go? Behind the couch? It’s the first place Kayla would look. He turned in circles as he realized his black bag and an inexplicable array of memorabilia he and Stephanie had been perusing had been left out in the middle of the floor. He desperately began cleaning it up.
Meanwhile, Kayla was up out of Stephanie’s bed to follow the screams to their petrified source, and Stephanie followed her mother while she hoped to God her papa’s job didn’t show up and make him go back to work.
Kayla took Mrs. Lopez by the shoulders and tried to calm her, but the misguided woman was inconsolable. Finally Kayla had to shake her. “Mrs. Lopez! Mrs. Lopez!”
“Fantasma!” she pointed hysterically to the kitchen directly in front of her “Te dije que esta casa tenía fantasmas! Te lo dije! Te lo dije!” Kayla didn’t understand a word of this, Stephanie ran to the kitchen suddenly quite desperate to ensure her father was still there, and Kayla just wanted the woman to calm the hell down.
“Please, calm down, you have to calm down!”
“Te dije que esta casa estaba embrujada!”
Kayla grabbed her landlady’s hands then released one to take her chin in her fingers and force the woman to look at her. “Fatima, you calm down right now!” The woman finally quieted long enough to pant in continued fear. “I do not understand Spanish, but somehow I managed to figure out you think you just saw a fantasma.”
“Ges! Ges!! He floated up the stairs, Meesees Johnsone! Es un demonio! Fantasma del hombre del demonio!”
“Demonio?!”
“Demon!”
“Shh! I know what a demonio,” Kayla whispered just that word, “is! My daughter is standing right here!” Only she wasn’t she was looking up into the stairwell with a very worried look on her face. “Ste—Baby Girl, it’s ok! It’s ok.”
But what if it wasn’t ok, Stephanie worried? What if he left? What if she was just dreaming?”
“I telleen you, I saw heem. Right there where the niña is standing right now. All in white! Hair white!” Steve multi-tasked this conversation as he continued to put things away as best he could, which was more like throw them anywhere that was not in the middle of the room. He couldn’t help but smirk at the woman’s description of him. His t-shirt was a white v-neck, his button-down over it was cream, and his jeans were … grey.
“Listen, you can’t just leave! I mean, you did, but you—just—how could you do that?! She’s ten goddamned years old!”
“I call you!”
“But I was on rounds, I didn’t get that message until four hours later.”
“I watch the house! I stay across the street the whole time. But I not stayeen inside when I hear the fantasma!
“You left her in the house by herself, Fatima. Who is the adult here?”
Just then their eyes all went very wide when the very pronounced and unmistakeable sound of the creaking floorboards sailed down to their ears.
“Uh oh,” Stephanie said.
Steve snapped his head up. “Uh oh what?” Steve said softly but with knowing dread.
“You hear eet!” Mrs. Lopez fairly bragged.”
Hear what? Steve was stumped. His focus was on ridding the room of evidence, not being careful of the floorboards. “One-eyed Demonio del hombre.”
“F*ck.” Steve eyed that loft door while a floor below Kayla stood very still and narrowed her eyes.
Stephaie had been feeling very badly for the landlady during this conversation, because on some level, she knew that Mrs. Lopez was honestly terrified and must have seen her papa. On the other hand, she’d just called her father a one-eyed something, and it infuriated the sympathy right out of her. On a practical level, she also knew that the “one-eyed” thing was a dead giveaway that something was up. So … she knew she promised and everything, but … if Mrs. Lopez saw him, then that meant she couldn’t keep her pinky swear anyway.
“I wasn’t by myself, Mama.”
“Stephanie, go to your room. I need to talk to Mrs. Lopez.” Kayla’s tone was unkind. She did not appreciate the reference to her late husband.
“But I wasn’t!”
Kayla put her hands on her hips and stewed. “Listen … I know you’re fine. But right now, you need to listen to me.”
Steve trotted in place as he weighed his options. This time when the floor squeaked, Steve realized his significant error.
“Mama,” Stephanie pointed to the sound the two adults in the room were gaping at, “I wasn’t by myself. There really is someone in the loft. He’s not a ghost. He’s real.”
“You talked to the fantasma?!”
“He’s not a ghost! Mama, come on we can talk to him!”
One eye, Kayla thought. One eye. A ghost with one eye. Kayla was on autopilot when her daughter took her by the hand and led her toward the stairwell. Steve started to go out the back door, but he stopped when Kayla halted at the first step and found her voice. And it was a good thing, because his black bag was still in the middle of the floor. Stephanie tried to drag her, but Kayla refused. The ghost of her dead husband was not up there to commune with. If he had been she would have known it. Would have felt it. No she would never be seeing him again, and this had to stop now. She tried to find a gentle voice, but this sudden reference to Steve was just as suddenly painful.
“Stephanie, I know how much you love your papa.”
“And he loves me, too, he told me so!”
“Stephanie!”
“Papa! Papa, you can come out! It’s ok, we have to show Mrs. Lopez that it’s ok!” But Mrs. Lopez was already halfway across the street and back to her car. Steve, meanwhile, wanted to scream down to her no, but then at Kayla’s next words he wanted to do exactly the opposite.
“Stephanie, I love him, too. I love him so much that I feel like he’s there with me all the time. But he’s not. He’s not there, and you can’t use this to cover for Mrs. Lopez.
“Mama!” Stephanie had had enough. She wanted her father, and she wanted him right now. She took Kayla’s hand and this time succeeded in getting her mother to follow her up the stairs. Steve was caught unawares and was stuck right there in front of Emily and Gideon’s trunk, duffel bag over his shoulder, when Kayla froze at the very top step, looked him square in the eye, and gasped.