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.I stand behind her because I would rather she be the first person Dad sees when he gets here.Almost the entire plane full of people has filed past us before a balding man with blond-streaked hair, dark skin, and shining eyes comes up to us, drops his suitcase, and holds up his arms."Hi, girls!" he cries.It's Dad.I didn't even recognize him."Your hair!" Aunt Ann cries as she rushes at him."Oh, little brother!" She starts crying.I just stand there as they hug and hug."Hey, little sister," the man who is my dad says.Aunt Ann is really the older sibling, but Dad calls her his little sister because she's so petite."How you been?" he asks her, looking at me over her shoulder.I don't like the way he's looking at me, as if he expects me to be mad and wants me to know that he's fully prepared for it.He pulls away from Ann and puts one hand on my shoulder."Kristi.My, you've grown into a beautiful young woman."I don't know what to say to him.I try to read his mind, but his strange face and weirdly skinny body are too distracting for me.He lost a lot of hair, but he looks a lot younger than he used to because he's so thin.The way he moves on his feet is light, as if he's ready to jump into action.He holds his head high, and his shoulders are square instead of bent like they used to be.He almost looks like a movie star.I watch him like I'd watch TV not expecting it to watch me back.A smile slowly creeps over his face.The wrinkles around his eyes bend, and he takes a step toward me.I can see what he means to do, so I pick up his suitcase to hold between us."We're parked a long way from here," I say, then I turn my back on him and walk away.DINNER AT AUNT ANN'SThings don't go the way I planned.I thought Dad would have all kinds of questions for me, but mostly he talks to Aunt Ann.He keeps looking at me in the side mirror of Ann's Honda Civic, as if he can't believe the way I look.I let him look at me, but I don't have anything to say to him, and apparently he has no trouble containing his curiosity about me as he answers all of Aunt Ann's questions about Ebola, dysentery, typhoid, measles, tuberculosis, malaria, and parasitic worms.I can tell she's working her way up to AIDS, which gives me a little time to think strategy.I'm not in control.I thought I would be the one fending off the questions, but Dad is too busy to ask a single one.Aunt Ann is too fascinated by disease to give him a moment's thought about anything else.I listen to him explain that Ebola is rare, even in Africa, and that he hasn't seen a case yet.And yes, there are parasites, but they aren't transmitted through human-to-human contact.That he's inoculated against most everything else and so we shouldn't worry about catching anything from him.He sounds authoritative and happy to be talking about medicine.When she starts asking about AIDS he practically jumps out of the car with excitement, talking all about how his team is heading up a national campaign for education about prophylactics.A puppeteer from San Francisco is going to give educational puppet shows to grown women about birth control, how to say no to a man, and how to look out for an abusive personality.It sounds a little patronizing to make a puppet show for grownups, but then, what do I know about African people? Maybe they like puppets.Or maybe they're just too polite to tell rich do-gooders from America when they're being condescending jerk-offs.We finally get to Aunt Ann's tiny house, which is one suburb over from ours.It's a poorer suburb, because she doesn't make that much money as a hospital administrator, but she likes where she lives.She's surrounded by a lot of Latinos, and she shouts incoherent Spanish at them, so they love her.Near where we park the car a whole bunch of guys wearing sweaty office shirts are kicking around a soccer ball.When they see her, one of them cries, "Mamacita, por qué no vienes para una cerveza luego, eh?""No puedo, papi!" She giggles.Her face is bright red."Mi sobrina bellísima está en casa con mi hermano."They break into even faster Spanish that I can't begin to understand.I had only a year of the Language of Our Hispanic Neighbors at Journeys before the parents decided they wanted their kids to learn the Language of Our French-Canadian Neighbors instead.Aunt Ann yells something about mañana at them, and then we all go into her tiny house.She has put up a banner that says, "Welcome home, little brother!" in big orange letters.She runs into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "Sangria all around?"We both call, "Yes," at her, but she's already in the kitchen, leaving us alone together.I sit down on the couch because I don't know what else to do.Dad sits in the ratty overstuffed chair across from me.He has a smile on his face just like the one he probably gives to patients before he does something painful to them.I can feel the guilt practically wafting off him."How are you, Kristi?""Oh, fine," I say distantly."How are you?"He leans his elbows on his knees and weaves his fingers together."I'm wondering if you're going to forgive me, I guess.""For what?" I say very coldly.The last thing I'm going to do is make this easy for him.In fact, I'm going to make it as difficult as it can possibly be."For leaving, obviously.""Oh.That."He gets up and leans against Aunt Ann's fake fireplace, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his thin, cheap slacks.As he speaks, I get a wave of guilt and sorrow, though he's hiding it well."You know, I really thought that you wouldn't change so much.Your Aunt Ann kept sending me pictures, but to be honest I didn't absorb it.I thought you were still that skinny little girl, that you would stay that way.""And now I'm fat," I say, to make him feel like an asshole."You're not fat." He says this without looking at me.I can feel his thoughts jutting out of him, all of them tinged with shame, but the look on his face is very calm.He smiles faintly at me, and his eyes trail to the flowers on the coffee table
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