Making the Galaxy Great

When his phone rang around two in the morning, Jason’s first panicked thought was that Shelby had sneaked out of the house and something had happened to her. Instead, he heard Evie’s voice.

“Hey, can I come in?”

Jason rubbed his face. “What? Where are you?”

“Outside your house.”

Jason slid out of bed and peeked out his window. Sure enough, Evie stood on the walk, smiling sheepishly and waving at him. She was fetchingly dressed in tiny shorts and a top that didn’t quite cover her midsection. He tiptoed downstairs to let her in.

“What a shit night,” she said as she put her arms around him. He could smell alcohol and pot.

“Umm, Shelby’s here,” he said softly, indicating that Evie, too, should lower her voice.

Evie lit up. “Your daughter? Can I meet her?”

“She’s actually sleeping, since it’s the middle of the night.”

Evie looked as if she’d been scolded. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I just didn’t . . . I mean, I just had to get out of that apartment. I couldn’t take it any more.”

“It’s okay,” said Jason, trying to sound a bit less like a guy who’d just been awakened in the middle of the night. “Just . . . just sit down and I can make some coffee.”

After he’d started the coffee maker, he sat down on the sofa with Evie. She curled up against him, head against his shoulder.

“It’s the Stormy and Ian situation,” she explained. “I’m so sick of their bullshit. They’re always fighting . . . and when they’re not fighting they’re fucked up. Seriously wasted. . . . You know she lost her job — did I tell you? Mainly because she never showed up. I mean, if you’re waiting tables you’re supposed to, you know, be there to wait tables. So now she just lies around the apartment all day eating shit and smoking weed and doing . . . and leaving her trash everywhere. And she hasn’t paid her share of the rent for the last two months. No, wait. Three months.”

Evie exhaled loudly, as though even the effort of recounting her issues with Stormy was too exhausting to bear.

“Sounds like you—”

Before Jason could finish, Evie sat up straight and turned to look at him. “I’m twenty-six, you know. I’m too old for this bullshit. It’s time to get on with my life and be a grown-up. I’ve got a real job. And I’m ready to like, maybe not settle down, but . . . yeah, maybe settle down.”

Twenty-six?

Jason was so shocked to learn Evie’s real age that he barely heard anything else she said. Somehow, twenty-six sounded substantially older than twenty-two or twenty-three. It was old enough that he suddenly didn’t feel guilty sleeping with her, after all. Then he realized what had followed the part about her being twenty-six.

Settle down?

“I need to kick that bitch out,” she said.

“How long have you roomed together?” Jason asked, mainly to stay away from any more talk of settling down.

“Less than a year. We met at a party awhile back. This guy I used to—”

“And she already owes you for three months’ rent?” said Jason, not interested in hearing about a guy that Evie used to do anything with. “I would say you definitely need to kick her out.”

“Can we just go to bed? I don’t want to think about it any more.”

Jason had been half-dreading this moment. “Umm, sure. You can have my bed and I’ll sleep down here . . .”

Evie pulled back to stare at him. “What are you talking about? Don’t you want to—?”

Jason answered in a loud whisper. “Of course I do. But my daughter . . .”

“Doesn’t she know that you have sex?”

Apparently she knew way more than Jason wanted to admit, but he still didn’t feel comfortable with the idea that Shelby would wake up to find someone in bed with him. At least not without some preparation.

“She hasn’t even met you,” he reminded Evie. “I just don’t want to, you know, spring that on her.”

Evie didn’t look happy, but she nodded in understanding. “Okay, whatever.”

Sometime later, after Jason had finally managed to settle into a position on the sofa where he could fall asleep, he was startled awake for the second time. But this time it wasn’t his phone; it was Evie’s hand, sliding inside his sweatpants under the sheet he’d thrown over himself.

“Can I help you with something, young lady?” he whispered hoarsely.

“I need to relax,” Evie said in a soothing, dreamy voice.

Jason felt anything but relaxed. And as he helped her pull down his pants, he scolded himself for being weak. Then he said a silent prayer.

Please, Shelby, don’t come downstairs early.

Luckily, Shelby was a teenager, so by definition she did not get out of bed without being awakened by explosions, smoke or the voice of an adult telling her that the day was half gone. So at around 8:30 that Saturday morning, Jason slid out from under Evie, crept upstairs to get dressed, then started breakfast.

After perhaps a half hour, Evie came into the kitchen for coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Jason asked her if she’d thought any more about the Stormy situation.

After reiterating that she didn’t want to talk about it, Evie said: “My lease is up in two months and I think I’ll just get my ass out of there. She can do whatever, and tough — oh, hello. You must be Shelby.”

At the stovetop where he was flipping pancakes, Jason stopped moving, his spatula suspended in the air over the pan. He felt as if he might turn to stone. Slowly, and with as much of a casual air as he could muster, he looked over his shoulder at his daughter, who was standing in the doorway with eyes half closed.

“Hi,” she said to Evie. Then she must have noticed Evie’s legs (of course she noticed them) because her eyes suddenly opened all the way, and then some. At the same moment, Jason’s asshole began to tighten.

“Ohhh, you’re the one with the tattoos.”

Evie smiled at Jason. “Yeah, I’m Evie. So your dad has mentioned me?”

“Actually, it was that agent lady. I think she works for the FBI or something.”

Jason could feel a vacuum form in his stomach. It was attempting to suck him inside out. He saw Evie’s face pivot from Shelby toward him.

“You mean Agent McCreepy? When did you see her?”

Jason quickly explained that McCauley had come by the house before the incident at work, looking for the flash drive that he’d later found in his blazer.

“And then we saw her last night, too,” Shelby added helpfully. “At the Indian restaurant. She was on a date with some dude that I think was German. He was sort of good looking but he looked like he had a pole up his butt.”

“Shelby!” said Jason. He saw Evie stifling a laugh.

“Anyway,” Shelby continued, “She seemed nicer than the first time I met her, so maybe she likes him.”

Jason felt as if fresh, pure oxygen was suddenly being pumped into the room. In her roundabout way, Shelby had somehow managed to save the conversation and the morning. Evie relaxed and sipped her coffee.

“Figures she’d be dating a German dude.”

Shelby nodded her head as if she understood. “I’ve never seen tattoos like that,” she told Evie.

“Yeah, right? What do you think? I get a lot of comments on them. Mostly from guys.”

“Umm hmmm,” said Shelby. “My dad would never let me get a tattoo. Even a teeny, tiny one. He hates them.”

Jason nearly bit through his lower lip. Once again, Shelby had steered the conversation onto a dangerous precipice. “That’s not true,” he fumbled. “I just think that . . . someone who’s thirteen doesn’t need to make decisions like that.”

Shelby screwed up her face in a combination of condescension, annoyance and reluctant tolerance that was a unique talent of teenagers. Then she suddenly veered back to Evie and on to yet another awkward topic. “So like, did you spend the night or something?”

Jason jumped in quickly. “Evie and I work together. She came by early this morning because she was having an issue with her roommate.”

Shelby sat down next to Evie and asked Jason for six pancakes to start with.

“You must be hungry,” said Evie.

“Yeah, plus Dad makes pretty decent pancakes. He puts malt or something in them. You should try them.”

On Shelby’s recommendation, Evie asked for some pancakes to go with her second cup of coffee. In between bites of pancake, Shelby said: “So, how long have you known my Dad?”

Evie glanced from Shelby to Jason. “Well . . . I haven’t known him all that long, even though I knew who he was because of work. He’s kind of famous around our office, you know, because he isn’t afraid to tell the big bosses they’re full of sh— crap.” She then went on to tell Shelby about how Jason ripped the ad agency and came up with a totally new idea for the Buster’s campaign.

Shelby’s eyes lit up. “Dad? Seriously? Aliens? That’s hilarious. They totally need to do that.”

After breakfast, Jason suggested they go to the farmer’s market near his house. He and Shelby often went there on Saturday mornings during warm weather.

“Wait till you see Dad’s loaner car,” Shelby told Evie.

“You still have that little car?” Evie asked.

“Have you seen it?” cried Shelby. “It’s really cute.”

“It is isn’t it? And it’s so perfect for him.”

Jason rolled his eyes, shook his head and grunted simultaneously. “Everyone get ready to pedal.”