Munch was in the zone sketching at his drafting table. Mademoiselle Petite had given him a challenge for the Spring Art Show. On the drafting table were three yards of cotton batik. This fabric was expensive and Mademoiselle had bought it for him. He knew how blessed he was to have her. They talked often of the portfolio he would put together to submit to design schools. The batik was in shades of dark yellow ochre shot through with turquoise and strings of burgundy. For a moment he studied the sketch on his table. The lines of the fabric flowed well along the lines of the tall figure he had drawn. There were some tucks and draping that he hoped the fabric could accommodate. Grace had been his inspiration for this dress, and he prayed she would agree to let him make it for her. Worry filled him. What would Grace think when he showed her the sketch? Would she think he was a creep? Maybe. It happened way too often. Still, tomorrow when she came over, he hoped to have an opportunity to show this to her. If she didn’t agree, he was going to have to get someone else. Who? Tina? Max would love that, but he was pretty sure Grace would be dead set against it.

There was a stomping up the stairs. Lolly stood on the landing. She was not a happy camper. She hissed, “Why does your mom have to be so damn clingy?”

Oddly, the sound of helicopter blades went off in Munch’s brain. He thought of all the times his daddy left and the one time he never came back. Munch said, “She’s scared.”

A change came over Lolly’s face as she seemed to understand. “But an off shore oil rig isn’t as dangerous as Vietnam.”

“No, but its still dangerous and its still away from here.”

Lolly entered the room and came to his drafting table. She asked, “Do you think she’ll get over it?”

All Munch could do was shrug.

Lolly looked down at his drawing on the table and asked, “Are you making that for Grace?”

“I’m gonna ask her tomorrow if she will be my model. Do you think she might agree?”

“Once she sees that drawing, I bet she will. She thinks you are so talented. And of course you are.” She grinned at him.

He grinned back. He sure hoped she was right about Grace.

Running her hand across the batik, Lolly said, “This fabric is gorgeous. Grace will be beautiful in it, of course, she is beautiful all the time.”

“Yeah. Her family has some gene pool.”

“They sure do. Her dad is one of the most handsome men I have ever met. And her mom, OH MY GOD. She looks like a model. Grace told me her grandpa is a preacher and he wouldn’t let her be a model even though an agency wanted her.”

“Wow, that really sucks.”

“Yup.” Lolly wandered away from the drafting table and went to the window. The moon was on the rise.

Munch went back to his drawing. He heard Lolly flop on the bed and Fluff grumble his protest. The fat cat had been sleeping. He heard Lolly rummage through her back pack and then came the sound of pages turning. When she pulled out a book, the conversation was over.

*

The thought that Thahn Ho was coming over was keeping Munch awake. If he would just go to sleep, she would get there a lot sooner, but oh no, BRAIN was fast at work. Sleep was holding back. He got out his transistor radio and put in the ear piece. Soft jazz floated in his head. It carried him on waves of gentle chaos into a sea of oblivion.

The sound of Mama frying eggs woke him. She was scraping her spatula across the big old iron skillet she used. He could hear that man’s voice, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. The oddest sensation came over him as he listened to the voices. When he was a child his parents would be in the kitchen talking. Like now he wouldn’t be able to make out what they were saying, but the sound of their voices had been comforting.This morning to his surprise he found comfort in the partially heard conversation. Mama’s voice sounded better. He sure hoped she had calmed down.

There was a clumping down the stairs. Lolly was making as much noise as possible to avoid walking into something she didn’t want to see. Two voices greeted her. They sounded happy. Lolly’s voice sounded less hostile, but not happy. Odd, now that Munch had decided to be civil, Lolly was having trouble with the marriage thing. Mama and Lolly had always been close so he hoped she didn’t start referring to Mama as THAT WOMAN in her head. Weird, that he would feel offended by the possibility Lolly might be doing that. Had she known he referred to her pa as THAT MAN?

Munch’s stomach growled and he rolled out of bed. His ear piece was still in his ear. One look at his transistor radio told him, he had run down the batteries again. Great. He hoped they had more batteries. At the foot of his bed was his navy silk robe. It was gorgeous with gold trim. He slipped it on. It always made him feel like a rich dude. When he walked into the kitchen, all eyes turned on him. Mama greeted him. For the moment, she had returned to a state of bliss. That was good. As for Lolly, she looked a bit grouchy. That man, seemed uneasy. He should be. Trace Phelps was a rather shy man, and Munch suspected the prospect of taking a bunch of girls fishing was not one he was looking forward to.

As they all sat down to eat, that man asked Munch, “Mind joining me for the fishing shin dig? I’m afraid I’m gonna be outa my league with all those female folk.”

Lolly protested, “Pa!”

Munch’s brain shouted, YOU GET TO GO FISHING WITH THAHN HO. Next, suspicion crept in. Had Mama told that man about Thahn Ho. Probably, but what difference did it make? He had just been invited to go fishing with her. As casually as he could, he said, “Sure.”

“Thanks, buddy. I owe you.” The smile that man gave him was tentative. Munch was too happy to not return the smile. The response on that man’s face once again made him feel guilty. His eyes held light and gratitude and hope. Good grief! If he was hoping that they’d become best buds, he best get over it.

*

At 1:00 p.m. the girls arrived all packed into Lisa’s little red Pinto. Grace and Tina were out of the car first. Tina’s eyes strayed to Aunt Jessie’s trailer. Munch was pretty sure she knew Max was not home. Lisa climbed out next. She gave Munch a big smile. Thahn Ho did not get out of the car. Where was she?

Lolly asked, “Where’s Thahn Ho?”

Lisa said, “She’s gonna be a bit late. Her piano lesson ran long. Her grandpa is bringing her.”

So Ong noi was coming. This pleased Munch. For reasons he didn’t understand,Ong noi was an ally.

The girls all went over to Grandma Toady’s to wait for Thahn Ho. Munch decided to do some weeding in the flower bed that surrounded the house. It might earn him some points with Ong noi. As he pulled the weeds up, dirt smeared his fingers and got under his nails. The smell of damp earth filled his nostrils. At times like this he felt the farmer blood of his ancestors rise inside of him. It was strange to be on land that had been in the family for four generations. He barely knew his grandparents. His uncles had never had much use for him. In his own family he had always been the odd man out, and yet, he was the one who still lived on the land. He was the one whose hands were dirty with the earth of his ancestors.

There was a rumble on the drive and he turned. The little gray Falcon was making its way toward the house. Munch stood up and quickly went to the spigot to wash his hands. When he finished the Falcon was parking. It took everything inside of him not to run up to the car. The instant Thahn Ho stepped out of the car, Munch felt a sense of promise steal through him. Today, some how, some way, they would wrangle a few moments alone together. The afternoon sun caught in her dark hair and sent a shimmer of light across it. She looked almost magic.

The back door of the car swung open and Le jumped out. He yelled, “HeLLLO Crunchy!” The next instant the little boy had plowed into him. He looked up and said, “Can I hang out with you today?”

Panic seized Munch. What was he going to say? He couldn’t very well say no. Not with those bright eyes looking up at him. “If its okay with Ong noi.”

Le released Munch and turned to Ong noi, “Can I stay?”

Ong noi told him, “You must ask Mrs. Phelps.”

It still felt so weird hearing Mama called Mrs. Phelps.

“Okey Dokey!” Le ran up to the house and through the door without knocking, Munch sure hoped Mama and that man weren’t being lovey dovey. Five seconds later the door banged open and Le yelled, “She said yes!”

Oh great. Munch’s vision of finding some alone time with Thahn Ho had just been shattered. He looked at her. If she felt any disappointment it did not show.

That man came out onto the porch. He asked, Ong noi, “If you’re not busy would you like to go fishing with us, Sir?”

A slow smile spread across Ong noi face. “Indeed I would Sir.”

That man came down the porch steps and extend his hand. “I’m Trace Phelps, Mr. Phan.”

Ong noi bowed and then took the extended hand. “Pleased to meet you Mr. Phelps.”

The next moment, the trailer door opened. All the girls burst out of the trailer squealing. Munch never understood this behavior. In a clump they came to Thahn Ho and hugged her, like they hadn’t seen her in years. Behind the girls, was Grandma Toady. She was wearing a cream colored dress with orange pansies on it. She was a bit dressed up for a Saturday morning. Her eyes went to where that man and Ong noi stood. A secret smile tugged at her lips. Ong noi saw her and smiled. He called out, “Good morning, Ruby. I have been invited to go fishing.”

Grandma Toady smiled at him. She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the chattering girls and said, “Don’t know how many fish you’ll catch with that bunch.”

It was a worry Munch shared. Ong noi said, “I will fish down stream.”

The way they were looking at each other made Munch slightly uncomfortable. Was Grandma Toady going to go fishing with them too?

Grandma Toady said, “Stop by for a cup of tea before you go.”

“I will.”

Munch glanced at that man. The look on his face was incredible. He looked just like Munch felt every time that man made goo goo eyes at Mama. Ha! It was a moment of sweet revenge.