the money is, after all. Still, I stroll inside like I don’t have a care in the world, like I’m the Reese Carlisle of three years ago and none of this really matters.
The familiar smells of sweat and antiseptic assault me when I enter, heels clipping on the cheap floors as I approach the desk to sign in. Hilroy glances up as I near, his eyes widening so much at my changed appearance that they nearly disappear behind his fleshy cheeks.
I offer a bashful smile. “Hi.”
“Uh... Hey.” He looks mystified by my bright and shiny new look.
“I’m here to visit Kimball Carlisle. I’m on the list.”
Hilroy shakes his head and refocuses. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. One second.”
I take out my burner phone while I wait and study the screen, sending three texts to my real phone. Miss you already. Can’t wait to see you. Love you. I’ll delete them when I get home.
“You checking your bag?” Hilroy asks, sliding over the sign-in sheet and a pen.
“Um, yeah. Totally.” I turn off my phone and drop it into my purse, then grab my wallet and fish out a couple of bills before passing over the bag.
He sticks it in a cubby, hands me a chit, and waves me over to the metal detector. I’ve done this enough that I no longer bother wearing jewelry. The machine is silent, but Hilroy dutifully swipes his wand over my front and back anyway, polite and professional, nodding when nothing registers.
“You look different,” he remarks, motioning for me to follow him down the hall. A heavy key ring hangs from his belt loop, dragging his already sagging pants down even farther.
“I feel different,” I say, studying my fingernails. “I feel...happy.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I met someone.”
“That’s nice.”
I give myself a little shake, like I’m remembering where I am. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say stuff like that when I’m...here. There’s no reason for me to...”
“Nah.” Hilroy uses the laminated badge hanging around his neck to swipe us into the visitors room. “It’s fine. It’s good. Good for you.”
“Thanks.” Inwardly, I’m groaning. It’s been three years since I’ve been this girl, and it’s taking a lot of effort to slip back into my old role.
The room is half-full when I walk in, and while I garner a few stares from fellow visitors and inmates, only the female guard stationed in the corner does a double-take. I sit at our usual table on the left, counting backwards from ten, then a hundred, as I wait for my father to arrive. Finally there’s a click as the heavy metal door unlocks, and he comes in, his mustard yellow jumpsuit at odds with his pasty skin, giving him an even more sickly pallor. Still, he brightens when he sees me.
“Hi,” I say, getting to my feet.
“Pieces.” He hugs me gently, but I’m not the one who’s fragile. I can feel his shoulder blades through the coarse fabric, the jut of his cheekbone pressing into my temple. He steps back and takes me in. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”
“Very... bright.”
“I feel bright.”
“Is that right?”
I don’t elaborate. “How are you?”
We take our seats on opposite sides of the table, my father’s bony fingers splaying across the Formica top, a dozen other oily fingerprints glinting in the neon lights.
“I’m, uh, I’m doing okay,” he says, unconvincing.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, you know.”
“Not enough chicken ramen?”
He laughs politely. “Maybe too much chicken ramen.”
“You want me to get something from the vending machine?”
“Yeah, sure. Grab whatever you want.”
I stand and cross the room, taking the two bills from my pocket and smoothing them between my fingers as I study the selection. I settle on a package of knock-off gummy bears and a tray of peanut butter and crackers. I pay with the five dollar bill, keeping the single in my hand as I collect my change and my snacks and return to the table. I glance at the guard, but she’s watching a couple trying to discreetly grope each other near the far wall.
I rejoin my dad and spread our feast on the table, keeping the dollar bill between us. He reaches over to open the crackers, carefully smearing one with peanut butter, then passing it to me. “Here,” he says. “I made you something.”
My mouth twitches. “You shouldn’t have.”
He smiles too, then concentrates on his task as he makes another cracker, then lines it with three gummy bears, sitting them in the peanut butter. “Remember when I used to make you ants on a log?” he asks.