Green Eyes

I stare at my green eyes in the mirror. They remind me of two of my favorite men: Brandon and my dad. 

I picture Brandon all sweaty in his shorts taking the basketball away from me and then dribbling it. His blond hair shining in the sunlight coming from the gym window. His broad, muscular shoulders heaving from running and jumping; his green eyes twinkling at the basketball. Thinking about him is enough to make my heart flutter. 

My mom says that my dad is a peripatetic. I’ve only seen him in photographs. 

“Maria, come on! I am getting late!” my mom’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. 

Like every Sunday, she drives me to the mall.

I go over to the sports section and browse through the new magazines.

“Hey Maria,” I hear someone say. Heat rushes into my cheeks. Trying to suppress it, I turn around and see Brandon’s perfect smile. The day couldn’t have gone better. I smile back. 

“Meet my dad. He also loves basketball!” Brandon points to the man with his back towards us, wearing my favorite basketball shorts. He turns around and I choke. I gasp and stare at his green eyes in utter disbelief.

I realize that I had just met my dad for the first time.