Mona Lisa My Love

Chapter Thirty

Driving back, I had time to reflect on my conversations with Doc. I did like him. I would make it a plan to talk to him more often and to visit him when time allowed. I was thinking about his comments and involvement in my growth. I started high school at eighty-seven pounds and graduated weighing nearly one-eighty.

I had not thought of any of this since dad died. I realized now that everything that happened was part of a plan. I didn't know how I felt about it.

I remembered back to that first day. I had been having a hard time at school. As a freshman, I was small, weak, and quiet. I might as well have had a sign on my back saying "kick me here." Dad used to have breakfast with us and then go off to work and got home just before dinner. (His busy schedule meant there wasn't much time for us, but one day that all changed.

One morning, dad was not at breakfast. Mom said he had to get to the office early that day. When I got off the bus after school, dad was waiting for me. I was thrilled to see him. He told me to put my book bag in the house and come back out. I did, and he said we were going for a walk. Walking was not something that I enjoyed, but it was with dad, so I said sure, with a big smile.

That first day, we walked to the corner and back. We talked about my day at school. I didn't give it much thought.

The next day, dad wasn't at breakfast, but he met the bus again. And again, we went for a walk — this time to the corner and a bit farther.

We went for a walk every day that week. Each time we walked farther and farther. I don't think I even thought about it because we were together. I was with my dad. I didn't care about anything else. Soon we walked to the edge of town. That was nearly two miles.

Then the best thing happened.

First, you must understand, Thursday was pie day. That is, every Thursday, dad went to Rosie's café to have a slice of pie. Thursday pie day all started because on one Thursday dad asked for a particular kind of pie. Well, Rosie didn't have that flavor that day, but the next Thursday, she did. And from then on, dad would have his slice of pie and put in an order for the next week. If he said apple this week, well by golly, next week, he had a slice of apple pie waiting for him. It got to the point the whole town would ask him what flavor pie he chose for the week, but he never told. I guess it was a secret between dad and Rosie. That went on until he died. The whole town was into the whole thing, so much that it seemed like most everybody stopped into Rosie's on Thursday to see what kind of pie it was and to have a slice. Rosie's café did a great business selling pie on Thursdays. But no matter how many people came, Rosie always had a slice ready for my dad.

Well, because we were walking to town now, on Thursdays, I got to have a slice of pie as well. That was the best. Cherry was my favorite, but I wasn't picky when it came to Rosie's pies.

Soon we were walking five miles a day. One day a new game started. We started walking, and dad touched my shoulder and said, "You're it," and ran away. Well, of course, I chased him. We still went five miles, but now we were running part of the way and walking the rest.

We had been doing this for what I would guess three months or so when he said he had an idea. Let's run over to the ice cream shop. Now, that was in the next town, but I was game. So, we did. We ran the whole way and then got ice cream and ran back.

Mom began cooking differently, too. I didn't take much notice, but I began to fill out. My legs were first, but I started to have a muscle or two as well.

Then one day a new challenge began. Dad had met the bus, just like always. But that day he had a tennis ball in his hand. So, as we started jogging, he would toss me the ball. I was supposed to catch it and throw it back. That is not as easy as it sounds. I dropped it a lot in the beginning. When I could make it without losing the tennis ball, he changed it to a hardball. Then a softball. Then a soccer ball. Then a basketball. Then instead of us being next to each other, we were across the road from each other. Soon I had some abs starting.

Next came the weights. They were just little eight-ounce straps that mom had made — one on each wrist and each leg down near the ankle. Over time the loads increased. We also kept up with the balls, switching up types now and again. As the weights grew, so did I. I had a growth spurt, and I was gaining weight, in my junior year, our coach wanted me to try out for a sport. I had no interest. I told dad about the coach asking and that I didn't want to play. He said that was fine, I didn't have to play, but if I wanted to play, he would be at every game.

Coach asked again, my senior year. I still said no. In gym class, I was the fastest kid. I could also climb the rope faster than anyone else in my class. I liked being bigger and faster, but I had nothing to prove, so I never played sports in school. But no one picked on me anymore. I was thankful for that.

I left high school at six feet and one-eighty.

I so enjoyed that time with my dad. I guess like thoughts of my mom; I had blocked them all out. I would have to try to remember more and maybe write it down, so I wouldn't forget again.

I would have to come back on a Thursday, I thought. Maybe Rosie still made pies.