Gingerbread by Rachel Cohn

offered. I think he could tell how disappointed I was by the bland
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    twenty-seventh-floor condo shimmering in the sky. "I don't like TV," I said.
    "Did you say you're sixteen?" Luis asked, to which I wanted to respond, "Not too young for you!" but I just nodded my head.
    "You don't like any of them TV shows about girl witches and such?" Luis continued.
    "What shows?" I said.
    Luis look at me suspiciously and said, "What are they feeding you in San Francisco?"
    "Food," I answered. Dim sum with Blank, chocolate with Sugar Pie, black coffee for Fernando, Twinkies for Ash and gummi bears for Josh, martinis and steaks for Sid-dad, and for Nancy, ye olde LifeSavers.
    In my Helen Keller commune, I had imagined that from the second I arrived in New York, my life would be different. Changed. Instead, I felt uncomfortable and scared, a stranger in a strange land. I clutched Gingerbread for support.
    "A sixteen-year-old girl with a doll?" Luis said.
    "Yes."
    There was a pause like Luis was waiting for me to explain. Finally he said, "Hey, I'm cool with that," and I could tell, Gingerbread was feeling the crush power, too.
    The sun had gone down and there was a red twilight glow over Central Park while Luis and I played Scrabble. I was just about to slay him with a triple word score "LOLLI" to add to his "POP" when Frank arrived home.
    He put his briefcase down and said, "How do, kiddo?"
    He did not open his arms to me and anyway that would have been weird if he did. I was still sitting at the
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    table as I looked at him. There was a frog in my throat. Suddenly I understood why the sight of me pains Nancy. If my baby was a 24/7 physical reminder of Justin, that would break my heart over and over again. Luis had not been kidding about me looking just like my "uncle."
    Frank had slick, ink black hair with specks of gray; wide eyes; big red lips; and a long, straight nose just like mine. The only difference between us was that he was orange-tan from what looked like a tanning booth and not some Caribbean paradise, and I am fog-dweller pale. Plus from the lines around his eyes, I suspected his face produced smiles much more than mine. When I stood up to shake his hand, he was one of the first men I have ever met who was significantly taller than me.
    Frank was also ridiculously handsome. Does that make me a skank for noticing that? Because he totally had the older man retired movie star thing going on. My heart dropped for Nancy again; if I had been twenty years old and not known better (even though I do, and I am only sixteen), I could understand how some dancer girl with stars in her eyes straight from the Minnesota cornfields could have fallen for his white teeth, sparkling eyes, and smooth lies.
    I think even Frank was tweaked by our resemblance. He kept staring at me like he was thinking, Oh .. my...god. Finally he said, "You must be tired from your flight."
    Huh? Here I am your new long-lost all-grown-up daughter, and the best you have to say is, "You must be tired from your flight"? Como se dice?
    "Not really," I said. I was so not tired after the pre-Scrabble venti Starbucks run (Java be damned) with Luis
    so
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    that I wouldn't have minded snaring Luis to go salsa dancing all night but for my big reunion with my biological father and all. No biggie, right?
    Because it seemed to me that Frank real-dad had a lot of explaining to do, and now was as good a time as any to get started.
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    Twenty-one
    What better way to get started, I thought, than by announcing to Frank: "I am not your niece, you know."
    Before Frank could so much as reply, Luis jumped up, knocking over the Scrabble game. He grabbed his phone and said to Frank, "I'm outta here. Call me you need anything." And poof! like that Loo-eese was gone. I gave Gingerbread a look so she wouldn't pout.
    Once the door had closed behind him, Frank paused for a moment, as if he didn't know how to respond. Then he said, "Whoa there, pardner! Give a person a chance to