Father's Day by Simon van Booy

that, he imagined himself saying. It’s a HARVEY-Davidson.
    He pictured the retirement community where her new parents lived. He saw them hobbling about in sweat suits, peeling oranges, driving the flat gray Floridian roadways with a perpetually blinking turn signal.
    A WEEK LATER, Wanda called.
    Harvey was back because there was still court paperwork to finalize.
    Jason was boxing up orders when the phone rang. He hadthe packing tape and scissors out. He told her a big eBay auction had ended, and he had to get to the post office because people freaked out if they didn’t get their stuff in five minutes.
    Wanda kept saying what a good time they’d had when she came over with pizza, and that Harvey was still talking about his motorcycle project and when she would get a ride . . .
    Wanda said she’d like to come over again when it was convenient—maybe for the last time, she said, as it was anybody’s guess when the paperwork would be finished and Harvey would be gone for good.

XX
    A FEW HOURS before they arrived, Jason opened all the windows to clear any stale smoke. He washed dishes and wiped the floor with wet paper towels.
    They were on time, and Jason showed them in. Harvey went to her usual seat on the couch, carrying her doll with her. When Wanda had to use the bathroom, Harvey asked if she could put the television on.
    Then Wanda said she had to make an important telephone call and check some paperwork out in the car.
    When she was gone, Harvey and Jason watched television without speaking. It was a show on the possibility of alien life. During the commercial breaks, Jason went to the window to check that Wanda was still outside.
    â€œIt must be a serious case,” he said, “if she has to leave us alone like this.”
    Then a commercial came on with a woman making dinner from a can.
    â€œHmm, that looks tasty,” Harvey said.
    Jason went to the kitchen and returned with a bag of chips, which he set on the cushion next to Harvey like an open mouth. “Eat,” he said. “You like TV right?”
    â€œSpongeBob, ” Harvey said, reaching into the bag. “That’s my favorite.”
    Jason took a handful of chips and went back to his seat. “Yeah, SpongeBob is pretty awesome.”
    â€œYeah,” Harvey said, reaching for another chip. “I love SpongeBob .”
    â€œPatrick is cool,” Jason said. “I kinda feel bad for him, ’cause everything keeps going wrong.”
    â€œHe’s funny,” Harvey said. “Do you like Mr. Krabs?”
    â€œYeah, he’s just such a jerk it’s funny.”
    â€œYeah, he’s mean,” Harvey said. “Making Krabby Patties from those little men.”
    By the time the chips were gone, they were into a new show about people in France who were trying to kill a fat king with long hair who lived in a gold palace. When someone’s head got cut off and blood gushed from the hole, Jason asked Harvey if she was old enough to watch it. Harvey said she wasn’t sure.
    Then she propped her doll up so he could watch the show too.
    â€œWhat’s your doll’s name?” Jason asked.
    â€œDuncan.”
    â€œThat’s a weird name.”
    â€œHe told me earlier that he wants to sit with you.”
    â€œWhy’s that?” Jason said.
    â€œHe thinks you’re his dad.”
    Jason shook his head. “I’m nobody’s dad.”
    â€œThen you’re going to have to tell him,” Harvey said, and put Duncan on the seat next to Jason.
    He let her do it, but didn’t touch the doll or look at it.
    W HEN W ANDA CAME back, she said it was time to leave. Jason told Harvey to brush the chips off her dress. Then she put her coat on and stood by the door.
    Jason’s eyes were still on the television. Wanda had returned at the worst time. They were watching something on the SyFy Channel, and the main character of the story was about to get