The Between Years

cups. The chair across from his was empty but pulled out.

    Am I supposed to sit in that seat? Randy wondered. Has he been waiting for me?

    That can't be right, he told himself. How did this kid wind up in the house? He didn't know the kid from Adam and hadn't been told he would have company either. Certainly, whatever was going on was some mistake or hallucination.

    The boy stared up at him then poured tea into his cup and the cup opposite him.

    Randy inched forward, uncertain how he should act. He was just a little kid for crying out loud, he tried to tell himself, but the child's presence and nonchalance rendered him uneasy nevertheless. The kid had materialized for all he knew, and yet he was certain the boy looked familiar. So he dragged his chair out, squatted on it, and squeezed his legs together to keep the table level.

    What to say, Randy thought. Normally he could have conjured up something to break the silence, but now his mouth felt like it had been filled with cotton. The kid was cute though, he wouldn't deny that. His cheeks were chubby, his smile wide, and his tiny digits fit perfectly around the teacup handle.

    Just when Randy's lips parted to ask Who are you? The boy said, “Want to have a tea party with me, Daddy?”

    Randy froze. At first, the last word didn't sink in, and he only dwelled on how the boy had said pawty instead of party. Then he squinted, stared closely at the boy's every feature, and realized how much this boy looked like he had at that age.

    “ You got a name, little buddy?” Randy asked.

    “ My name's Kenny. You know that, Daddy. Don't be silly.”

    Randy mouthed the words to his next sentence, partly because he didn't want to regret them, but also because his tongue felt heavy and he didn't want to slur the words. The kid was real and could hear him, he told himself. The fight to scoop him up in his arms and hug him until he could barely breathe seemed impossible to win.

    “ Okay Kenny, nice to meet you. But what are you doing here? It's awfully late, wouldn't you say?”

    “ This is my room. Why shouldn't I be here? I really like my room.”

    Who wouldn't? Randy thought. Kenny's room was loaded with everything a kid could want, and was a far cry from what Randy had lived in as a kid.

    “ No, no, it's fine. Just wondering what you're doing up so late is all. Shouldn't you be in bed by now?”

    “ You're making me go to bed now?”

    “ 'course not, you can stay up as late as you want. Just want to know what you're doing is all.”

    “ I told you, I'm having a tea party. Don't you want to drink your tea before it gets cold?”

    Randy smiled and couldn't help but humor the kid. So he slid his finger through the hole in the miniature cup, used his other hand to lift it, and sipped the tea.

    Kenny smiled “Pinkie up, Daddy.”

    So Randy raised his pinkie and drank the last of his tea.

    Kenny bellowed a deep belly laugh, as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen.

    “ Listen Bud, you really think you ought to be having tea parties?”

    “ Mommy and I have tea parties all the time. I really like them.”

    “ I know, but wouldn't you rather be doing boy things like playing with G.I. Joes or something?”

    “ But I like having tea parties way better.”

    Randy paused when he realized he was about to impose gender roles on his son. He loathed the very practice and remembered having steered clear of it when he'd painted Kenny's nursery. Determined to be consistent if nothing else, he cleared his mind. Most importantly, he wanted his son to think for himself, tea parties or not.

    “ That's cool. Go ahead and have all the tea parties you want.” And Randy left it at that.

    The very idea that this boy could really be his son swept over him and he nearly wept. His fate had changed and the impossible had happened. But so much had been left unanswered. Like if Kenny were really there, where had he spent the between time? And where had he grown and aged four years?

    He would have had to live those years somehow. And if he had, those were three years Randy had missed. They were gone forever. As grateful for the miracle as he was, he could deny feeling a sense of emptiness.

    Kenny slurped the last of his tea then stared up at Randy. Only then did Randy realize he'd been daydreaming. He racked his brain for something-anything-to say but he came up lacking.

    “ Everything okay, little buddy?” Randy asked. “I mean, do you like living in this