Welcome (back) to the Family

We brought our dog home on a spring night, when the evening changed the sky from blue to pink, as the sun began to give way to the patient silver moon. My parents told me we were going to the park to meet my grandpa, which I thought was strange. I’d never had a grandpa.

“Where has he been all my life?” I asked them on the long car ride over.

“He’s been around,” was Momma’s careful answer, and when we got to the maze, only one old Volkswagen Beetle waited in the parking lot. It was bronze and battered with dents, like from hail.

“Nice car,” I heard my dad say, shaking his head.

“Is he your dad, Daddy?”

“Yes,” he answered, but he opened the door then, and Momma gave me the eyes that meant I should just get out of the car, because the conversation was over. I stepped out onto asphalt, and the wind behind me was fierce and loud, whipping the branches of the trees as it came, scattering the leaves that had just begun to uncurl.

The man sitting at the table beside the start of the maze didn’t look like a grandpa. He looked like he was going to church, in polished black loafers, dress pants, and a button-up shirt like I have to wear on Sundays when I don’t put on a dress. His smile was nice, though, so I smiled back at him and mirrored his excited wave as he stood up.

“You’re Emily,” he said, and gave me a big grin when I came over. I just nodded, because he was basically still a stranger. “It’s so good to get a look at you, girl; I haven’t seen you since you were a baby.”

I smiled, but maybe he knew I was a little shy, because then he looked up to my parents. “It’s good to see you two looking happy and healthy, Alex, Mary. I’m glad that we could do this.”

“Why don’t you go and play?” Daddy told me, looking toward the tired old playground equipment. The purple paint was chipped, and green shoots were growing up near the swings, but the merry-go-round looked like it needed a spin.

I went over there, and as I spun I watched the old man. Why was he here now, and where had he been before?

Daddy had been angrier in the last few days, and he looked angry now, with a red face and a shaking, accusing finger as he started to shout, but I was too far away now to hear. The old man who they said was my grandpa sat there and just listened--Momma would have yelled back. I kicked my feet in the sand around the merry-go-round, waiting for them to finish so we could go into the maze, which I thought was why we were here.

They seemed content to sit there and argue, though, so I sighed to myself and looked over at the entrance, but just as I did, a big shaggy sheepdog came trotting out.

He had gray-white fur long enough to lose yourself in, and I got up to go pet him.

“Emily Diane,” Momma snapped from across the park. She told me once that all moms borrow the eyes of a hawk until their babies have babies of their own, and then they give them to their daughters. Whenever she tells me that I ask when the hawks get their eyes back, but she never answers. “Do not ever touch a dog you don’t know; have I taught you nothing?”

“Let’s go,” Daddy called over, looking at me, and then he glanced back toward our family van. “We made a mistake coming here--don’t reach out to me again, Dad. You left us once, now just stay gone”

“Look Momma,” I said, walking over and pointing at the dog following me. “If it has a collar, though, that means he’s safe.”

“That means someone is probably looking for him,” she said, and looked over at Daddy. “I’ll see if the owner’s number is on the tag.”

“Alex,” my grandpa said, and he sounded sad. “Son, I know I was a little hard on you--”

“You were more than a little hard on me,” Daddy said, and he turned back to me. “Emily, go get in the car.”

“Please don’t do this,” my grandpa begged him, and Daddy started shaking his head, getting madder. I just started walking.

“You never wanted to help us before,” the shouting started, and I put my hands over my ears on the way to the car. “When mom was going crazy, where were you then? Why would I ever want to see you now, when you were never there when I needed you?”

I got in the car, and I saw Momma bringing the dog back toward Daddy. The big sheepdog was too big to carry, but he looked happy to be led. Momma walked past my grandpa without looking at him--he was saying something to Daddy, who didn’t seem to care.

“You stopped being my father the day you left me to be a man at ten years old,” Daddy continued, and Momma opened the door. She gave me a sorry smile.

“The dog looks alright,” she said. “There’s no number to call, but we’ll put up posters. You’re right; he’s clean, and I think that’s a tick collar.”

“Why’s Daddy mad at grandpa?”

She shook her head. “Your Daddy had a weird life before he met me. Here, let the dog sit next to you on the car ride back. You can pet him a little, but we still need to get him a bath and check him for ticks when we get home.”

I nodded, but when she turned away I put my whole face in his soft shaggy fur. He loved it, and he licked me to prove it.

The shouting had stopped. My grandpa was talking now, and Daddy looked angry still, but he was listening. Momma was watching them too, from the passenger seat, as she pulled a snack muffin out from the glove box and started to open it.

Without any warning, my grandpa opened his arms, and Daddy hugged him back. Momma dropped her muffin with wide, shocked eyes, and I clapped. The big stray beside me looked up, but he didn’t understand.

The two of them stood hugging each other for a long time, and then Daddy waved to us. Momma gave me a smile.

“I think your dad and grandpa worked things out.”

“But he was just shouting at him,” I said.

Momma laughed, and she waved me out of the car. “Come on,” she said, and the big shaggy stray jumped out after me, panting.

“Emily,” Daddy told me, with tears in his eyes, “this is Grandpa Peters.” Daddy had never cried before, or at least not in front of me.

“I’m really glad to meet you,” my grandpa told me, and his eyes were wet too. That was the day I met my grandpa--we gave our new dog Faith a name after we brought him home and gave him a bath. We put up signs, but no one ever came to claim the big furball. I was happy with that. He belonged with us anyway.