They were padlocking the truck. Curtis turned to go inside the gallery and look around one last time.
Daniel and I stood by as he pushed the door open.
“You two can look around, if you like,” he said.
It was eerie. The cedar smell was stronger than ever, and almost nothing remained that had given the Starra its character. I hardly felt like I was in the same place.
Curtis had already taken all the personal effects from his office, so this was just one final pass to make sure nothing had been inadvertently forgotten.
“Does he have any idea who he’s going to lease it out to next?” I wanted to know.
“A Pilates studio,” said Curtis. “Apparently he thinks it’ll be more of an ‘anchor.’”
As strange as it was to think about, I could actually see it - take down a few non-load-bearing walls here, slap a coat of paint there…
I looked at Curtis. Despite my fears, he wasn’t slumping around the room like Charlie Brown without his football. He actually looked…happy.
As if on cue, as he made his way around the perimeter of the room, he started whistling.
“All right,” he said, finally. “I think we’re done here.”
As we filtered outside and he turned to lock up behind us, I stopped and turned around, knowing I ought to say something, but unsure of what it was.
“Thank you both for coming down,” he said, before I could think of anything. “It means the world to me.”
And just like that, I realized he was going to be just fine.
***
“You don’t think it’s ridiculous? Look at this tie. It’s too fat.”
Walter was scowling at himself in the full-length store mirror.
“That’s actually the perfect width of tie for that cut of suit,” said the floor clerk, who was beginning to look like a trapped animal.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Let’s get that one.”
We were planning on taking him to one of the city’s nicer restaurants to meet with Lindsey, but the sartorial side of things was proving to be more stressful than we’d anticipated. He insisted that he didn’t have anything nice enough, which was true. But when Daniel offered to buy him something, he waffled on every single suit he tried on. I’d gone with him today to try and force a decision, if I possibly could.
In the end, I was able to convince him to take it, but apparently only on the unspoken condition that he’d grumble about it all the way back to the apartment. We were all going to leave from here for the restaurant, since Walter’s hotel shuttle didn’t go far enough and it just seemed easier this way.
“I don’t understand the way men are expected to dress these days,” Walter said, when Daniel walked down the stairs in his suit.
“Thank you,” said Daniel. “You look nice, too.”
“I didn’t say it was bad,” Walter snapped. “I said I just don’t understand it.”
Ever since his address at Columbia, there had been a tentative truce. Directly afterwards, I actually saw the two of them hug, and as happy as I was about the whole thing, I kept my distance for the rest of the night so that they could talk. I answered mundane questions about my pregnancy until I felt like my brain was going to leak out of my ears, and then finally, we went back home.
I didn’t talk to Daniel about exactly what happened, or what kinds of things they might have discussed. The important thing was that they were once again willing to give each other a chance, more or less.
“You sure want to wear that tie?” said Walter. “It looks cheap.”
“No, it doesn’t. You wouldn’t know the difference between a cheap tie and and expensive tie if it was used to strangle you.”
More or less.
We were very early to the restaurant. Walter was clearly venting his nerves by being rude to everyone, so I tried to keep him distracted while we got to our table and sat down. Daniel asked the host to keep an eye out for Lindsey and send her in our direction. Her husband Ray couldn’t get away from work, and she told me confidentially that it was better this way.
“Ray hides it well, but he hates dad’s guts,” she’d said, casually. “I think if we got a couple glasses of wine in them, there’s a decent chance a full-on fight would break out.”
“As amazing as that sounds,” I’d told her, “you probably made the best decision.”
The server came by for our drink orders. Daniel and I got water, and Walter ordered a dry martini.
“Unless we’re not drinking,” he said, looking around the table.
“Well, I’m not,” I said.
“Obviously,” said Walter.
“You can have anything you like, dad,” said Daniel, impatiently. To the server: “that’ll be all, thank you.”
“Sorry,” said Walter. “I don’t know what the etiquette is in these situations.”
I looked at Daniel. “You can order a drink, you know,” I said. “It’s not going to bother me.”
He shrugged. “I’d just as soon keep a clear head.”
“I don’t think a fight’s going to break out,” said Walter.
“I’m glad you’re so confident,” Daniel replied. “Remember the last Thanksgiving we all had together?”
“No, I don’t,” said Walter, firmly. “And neither do you.”
I watched the door anxiously, fiddling with the corner of my menu. I had absolutely no idea what I was going to order, but I couldn’t possibly concentrate on the menu while I was waiting for…I didn’t know what, exactly.
When she finally walked through the door, I held my breath. She looked absolutely stunning, and her face was set into a completely unreadable mask. The host escorted her over to our table.
“Hello, Lindsey,” Walter said, setting down his drink.
“Hello,” she replied, coolly.
“I hope you and Ray have been doing well.”
She cleared her throat, delicately. “Very well, thank you,” she said.
This was a side of Lindsey I’d never seen. She never so much as bit her tongue around anyone, but with Walter, obviously, she had to.
We all ordered, eventually. I pointed to something on the menu at random, while the others made slightly more thoughtful choices. Walter started quizzing Lindsey about her life, and after the third or fourth question I could sense her irritation growing. I wondered if he knew what thin ice he was on. I wondered if he simply didn’t care.
“So, still no kids?” Walter said, finally. I winced.
Lindsey’s eyes turned to flint.
“No,” she said, very quietly. “I can’t have kids. I found out not too long after you went on your…” she took a sip of her drink. “…cruise.”
“I’m sure that your brother told you how much I regret some of the things I’ve done,” said Walter. “I hope you can find a way to forgive me, someday.”
“I’m not holding a grudge,” said Lindsey, in a way that very much made me not believe her.
“I’ve been thinking about coming back for so long,” he said. “But every time, I thought…why? What’s the point? They’ll hate me. So I pushed the idea away for as long as I could. But now that I’m here, I realize I should have owned up to my mistake a lot sooner. I could have…” Walter took a deep breath. “I could have been there for you when you found out. About the kids. I could have seen Daniel’s wedding. I could have done a lot of things differently, if only I’d been ready to admit that I f**ked up.”
He was clenching his fork tightly in his hand. I could see that Lindsey’s lip was quivering, but I wasn’t sure that anyone else noticed.
“Madeline said something to me,” he went on, his voice very low. “She said it wasn’t too late - but that someday soon, it might be. She warned me that I was about to lose you two forever, and until she said it, I didn’t realize how true it was.”
A tear made its way down Lindsey’s face. She dabbed at it with a napkin.
“This might not have been the best venue,” she said, smiling bravely at Daniel.
“My apologies,” he replied. “You were always welcome to make another suggestion.”
“Dad,” she said, looking at Walter and letting out a long sigh. “We would have forgiven you, no matter what. We always would have found a way. But you waited so long. It’s a lot to wrap my head around. I’m still not really sure if this is reality. I might wake up any minute now from the longest, strangest dream I’ve ever had.”
“I promise, it’s not,” said Walter.
“That’s exactly what someone in a dream would say.” Lindsey was smiling.
Under the table, I grabbed Daniel’s hand and squeezed it tightly.
“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” Lindsey said, gesturing at Walter with her fork. “Later on, I’m going to yell at you. Probably lots of screaming and cursing and weeping. I’m going to demand answers to questions that have none, and bring up things you’d forgotten you even did or said. That’s not a threat, it’s just reality. It’s all going to be part of the adjustment process for me. But for right now, I’m happy to just have dinner with you. I’m happy to know that you’re alive, and see your face again. That’s all things I never though I’d have, but none of it changes the fact that if you’d never left in the first place, we wouldn’t be going through this at all.”
“I know,” said Walter. “I don’t have an excuse for what I did.” He reflected on this for a moment. “Well. No good excuses.”
“Don’t bother with any bad ones,” said Lindsey, smiling. “I won’t put up with any bullshit from you.”
“You never did,” said Walter.
The rest of our meal was exactly was surreal as I would have expected it to be. I still don’t remember what I ate, or the actual content of most of the conversations. What I do remember is the sparkle slowly coming back into Lindsey’s eyes, as she sat there and talked with her father for the first time in so very long. I remember the look in Walter’s eyes as he talked to his son and daughter, betraying a sense of pride that he might never be able to put into words.
But most of all, I remember the feeling of relief and happiness that slowly crept through my veins as I sat there. Gathered around the flickering candles, we were as much a family as we were ever going to be. And yes, later, there might be yelling. And more in the future. That was just the nature of things.
In the end, though, everything from the past would heal. It would never be forgotten, but the memories would grow less sharp. Less painful.
Things were going to be better now. Not perfect, but better. And really, what more could I ask for?
Fifteen
I was pacing the apartment.
“Where the hell are we going to take them?”
For the past several days, I’d been stricken with random anxiety about my parents every so often. It had gotten to the point where I no longer had to provide any context for Daniel to know exactly who, and what, I was talking about.