Chương 12
Evelyn looked toward Nora’s photograph.
“Maybe.”
It was the first time Adrian had ever heard her say maybe about something David Cole believed.
She left before dinner.
Lila did not hug her goodbye.
Evelyn did not ask.
That counted too.
On January third, Travis sent Lila a letter.
It was four sentences.
Dear Lila,
I said something mean on Christmas because I was angry with your dad. That was wrong and it was not your fault. You belong in our family, and I am sorry I made you feel like you didn’t.
Also, for the official record, Rudolph has a surprisingly strong right hook.
Uncle Travis
Lila read the last sentence three times.
“What’s a right hook?”
Adrian took the letter.
“Nothing you need to practice.”
“Is it punching?”
“No.”
“You said it too fast.”
“Eat your cereal.”
She folded the letter and put it in the sticker drawer beside June’s.
Evelyn’s card remained on the counter.
Lila eventually used the back of it to test a purple marker.
January did not repair the Coles.
It rearranged them.
Adrian returned to work.
That surprised everyone, including himself.
He did not resign.
Not yet.
He and Travis met with the company’s advisers and rewrote the disputed ownership provisions so the financial treatment did not turn on whether an heir shared anyone’s DNA. Adrian refused to call the change a victory.
Travis called it “the Rudolph Amendment.”
Their attorney did not laugh.
Adrian did.
Evelyn refused to attend the first meeting.
Then she attended the second and argued about valuation for ninety minutes without mentioning Lila once.
That, Adrian realized, was progress of a very unglamorous kind.
He also kept talking to Marcus.
By March, a regional builder offered Adrian an operations position.
The salary was twelve percent lower.
The commute was longer.
The company car was worse.
The health plan was comparable.
Adrian accepted.
Evelyn did not speak to him for four days after he told her.
On the fifth, she sent an email asking for a transition schedule.
No accusation.
No guilt.
No mention of family loyalty.
Adrian stared at the email for several minutes before answering with dates.
Travis called that night.
“You’re really leaving.”
“Yes.”
“You hate commuting.”
“Yes.”
“You hate commercial work.”
“I hate parts of it.”
“You’ll be back.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t say maybe. That’s Mom’s new thing.”
Adrian smiled.
“How’s she taking it?”
“She reorganized the material samples.”
“That bad?”
“By color.”
“Jesus.”
“Exactly.”
They were quiet.
Then Travis said, “I’m going to screw this up.”
“The company?”
“Probably.”
“Not immediately.”
“Comforting.”
“You’ll hire someone.”
“I don’t want someone.”
Adrian understood.
He stared at the pink bathroom tile upstairs, where he had come to escape Lila’s television show.
“You wanted me.”
“Don’t make it emotional.”
“You made it emotional.”
“Shut up.”
Adrian smiled.
Travis sighed.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Christmas.”
“You already apologized to Lila.”
“I know.”
“That was the important one.”
Another pause.
“I’m still sorry.”
Adrian ran a finger along the cracked grout.
“Me too.”
“For throwing Rudolph?”
“Yes.”
“That was funny later.”
“Much later.”
“Like ten minutes.”
“Goodnight, Travis.”
“Coward.”
He ended the call.
By spring, Lila had stopped asking whether Adrian was her real father.
She asked different questions.
Was Evan tall?
Adrian did not know.
Did he like pancakes?
Adrian did not know.
Was Lila going to have his nose?
Possibly.
Could she meet him someday?
Maybe.
That question frightened Adrian.
He answered it anyway.
“When you’re older, if you want to learn more about him, I’ll help you.”
“What if you don’t like him?”
“That won’t change the answer.”
“What if I like him?”
Adrian’s stomach tightened.
“That won’t change the answer either.”
She watched him carefully.
“You look weird.”
“I feel weird.”
“Are you jealous?”
“A little.”
She seemed delighted.
“Of Evan?”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t know him.”
“Feelings can be dumb.”
“Kendra says feelings aren’t dumb.”
“Kendra charges me money to disagree with me.”
“I like her.”
“I know.”
Lila thought for a moment.
“I think if I meet him, you can come.”
Adrian swallowed.
“Okay.”
“But not Grandma.”
“That seems wise.”
Evelyn’s visits resumed slowly.
At first, once a month.
Always at Adrian’s house.
Never alone with Lila.
Evelyn complained about the rule exactly twice.
The third time she arrived with a puzzle and asked whether they could use the dining table.
Adrian noticed the absence of argument.
He did not praise her.
He had spent too much of his life rewarding adults for meeting basic expectations.
In June, Lila asked whether she could spend an afternoon at Evelyn’s house.
Adrian said no.
Lila became furious.
Not quietly furious.
Six-year-old furious.
She accused him of being “the boss of every single thing.”
He agreed that this was substantially his job.
She slammed her bedroom door.
Adrian let her.
Ten minutes later she opened it.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m still mad.”
“Okay.”
“Can Grandma come here tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
The door closed again.
Two weeks later, after a conversation with Kendra and another with Evelyn, Adrian allowed a two-hour visit.
He checked his phone eleven times.
At minute eighty-three, Evelyn sent a photograph.
Lila sat on the kitchen floor eating strawberries beside a cabinet whose door hung crookedly.
Caption:
Your daughter has informed me this hinge is “embarrassing.”
Adrian replied:
She’s correct.
Evelyn:
Your father installed it.
Adrian:
Then she’s especially correct.
Lila came home with red stains on her shirt and a plastic container of cookies.
Nothing bad had happened.
Adrian felt relieved and resentful about the relief.
Trust, he discovered, returned like a frightened animal.
Not because anyone called it back.
Because enough days passed without a slammed door.
In August, Adrian finally replaced the pink bathroom tile.
He regretted the decision by day two.
Dust covered everything.
A contractor found old water damage behind the tub.
The project that was supposed to take six days took nineteen.
Nora would have been unbearable about it.
Adrian could hear her.
May you like
Historically stubborn.
One evening he sat on the bathroom floor surrounded by tile spacers while Lila watched from the doorway.
