She shook off the memory as she parked her car in the grassy lot and dashed toward Starry Sky’s main field.
But even in such a distracted rush, she found it hard not to flash back to what had happened the night before. The mysterious Asian man had been a complete stranger, but the way he had run his hands all over her body that last time in bed, touching her in all the right places, like he already had her memorized…
“Mom! I’m over here!”
The sight of her beautiful twelve-year-old daughter, Sparkle, broke her out of her second reverie of the morning. Sparkle wasn’t her real name, of course, and not one she would have chosen for her daughter, if it had been up to her. Yet another casualty of her previous life, which made her push both Hector Jr. and last night’s encounter out of her head as she jogged over to her.
When she reached her, Lacey was taken aback by how much her daughter had grown since the last time she’d seen her during Christmas break. Also, she was a few shades darker, which meant her program leaders must have forced her to take time off from playing the piano to get out in the sun. Sparkle wore a wrinkle-free camp t-shirt tucked into khaki shorts, both of which she was certain Sparkle had freshly pressed herself that morning. And her shoulder-length dreadlocks looked much neater than Lacey’s own. While Sparkle tended to hers every morning, re-twisting the roots with the big tub of shea butter Lacey had sent in her last care package, Lacey was once again wearing hers in a messy bun.
“Girl, you are a sight for sore eyes,” she told her daughter with a big smile. “I’m going to give you a hug, a huge one, okay?”
“If you must,” Sparkle answered.
“Yes, I must,” Lacey responded, pulling her daughter into her arms and kissing her on top of the head several times for good measure.
“I don’t know how my father will feel about the hugging,” said another voice nearby.
Lacey looked over Sparkle’s head to see an Asian boy with glasses and a severe buzz cut standing nearby. He spoke in the same succinct and practiced way as Sparkle and didn’t make eye contact, which was enough of a clue that, like her daughter, he had Asperger’s. Of course, this wasn’t a big surprise considering the kids were at a camp for high-functioning autistic children.
“Hi,” she said to him. “And you are…”
“I’m Sparkle’s best friend, Kenji,” he informed her.
“Her best friend,” Lacey repeated.
Even on an Aspie level, Sparkle wasn’t exactly a maker of friends. She’d been obsessed with the piano since she was old enough to walk, and tending to her passion didn’t leave much time for friendships. Sparkle had never asked to bring anyone home for breaks or even dinner, much less had a best friend.
“Okay,” Lacey said carefully. “It’s really great to meet you.”
“She’s surprised because I don’t have any other friends,” Sparkle informed Kenji. “She thinks maybe you’re delusional or making it up.”
Lacey would have tried to deny it, but she knew her daughter would only argue she was denying it because she didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Though social interactions were challenging for Sparkle, she had just enough knowledge of social conventions to be truly embarrassing if Lacey chose to argue with her.
So instead Lacey smiled and said, “Like I said, it’s very nice to meet you, Kenji. Can I shake your hand?”
In response, Kenji drew his arms up close to his chest. “No, that’s not necessary. I’m not here to introduce myself but to assess that you really are pretty and it wasn’t a case of makeup and lighting in the picture Sparkle showed me.”
Having raised an Aspie for twelve years before sending her to Rise Academy, a boarding school for children with high-functioning autism and Asperger’s, Lacey wasn’t remotely phased by his refusal to shake her hand or his blunt statement.
“Okay,” she said again with a smile.
Kenji looked her over with the critical eye of a horse breeder. “She was right. You are very pretty. My father might like you.”
Lacey looked from side to side, wondering why it mattered if his father liked her or not. “Well, I hope he’s not the kind of person who judges other people on looks alone and he’ll be just as happy to meet the mom of your best friend as I am to meet him.”
“You think I would come over here for a simple introduction? No, that’s not it,” Kenji said. “Sparkle and I are working on an opera, a grand opus, which will likely take two years or more to compose. Consequently, we’ve decided we shouldn’t be apart during the summers anymore. Three months of down time is unacceptable.”
Understanding began to dawn on Lacey’s part. “Oh, I get it. So you’re both interested in composing on the piano and you want to arrange a summer visit?” she asked, although she already knew that would be out of the question.
She didn’t begrudge Sparkle a friend or what sounded like a really ambitious music project. In fact, Lacey was happy Sparkle had found someone who liked the piano as much as she did. How many other twelve-year-olds wanted to spend all of their free time composing an opera? But Lacey had barely had time to trek to Montana from Chicago to pick her daughter up, much less drive her to whatever part of the country Kenji lived in, so that they could work together during the summer.
“No, a visit still wouldn’t give us enough time to finish the opus in two years,” Sparkle answered.
“We want you to marry my father,” Kenji said.
Lacey sputtered, “Say what?!?!”
“It’s the most logical solution,” Kenji responded.
“I think you need to look that word up, because getting married so your kids have more time to work on an opera definitely doesn’t qualify as logical,” she said, using air quotes on the word “logical.”
Kenji, who had yet to make eye contact with her had the nerve to throw Sparkle an exasperated look. “She is pretty, but difficult.”
“That doesn’t mean your father won’t like her,” Sparkle pointed out, as if the object of their discussion weren’t standing right in front of them. “They could still get married.”
Lacey held up her hands. “You two do realize marriage is a big decision and a lot more goes into making that decision than whether or not your father thinks I’m cute, right?”
“Yes, of course we realize that,” Kenji answered. “We’ve already run the data. My father and you have a lot in common. You’re both very secretive, you’re both very patient, neither of you have had a long-term relationship since the loss of your respective partners, so the logical conclusion is you must be very lonely. Also, you both have autistic children. We’ve decided you’ll make a very compatible match as long as my father thinks you’re good looking.”