Chương 8
“I know.”
Daniel looked at her.
She understood the request.
Not the object.
The location.
Some things needed to remain where they had always been.
“Okay,” she said.
Daniel checked his watch.
The apartment office closed at five.
It was four twelve.
He picked up his keys.
The room changed.
Leo put both hands into his sweatshirt pockets.
Daniel stood in front of him.
“I’m going to go set up a few things. I’ll call tonight.”
Leo nodded.
“Tomorrow I’ll pick you up at four. We’ll get dinner, and you can see the place.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to stay overnight.”
“I know.”
Daniel waited.
Leo stared at the floor.
Sarah wanted to intervene and did not.
Finally Daniel said, “Can I hug you?”
Leo’s face moved.
He nodded.
Daniel wrapped both arms around him.
Leo remained stiff for a moment.
Then his hands came out of his pockets and held the back of Daniel’s sweatshirt.
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Okay,” Leo said after several seconds.
Daniel let go immediately.
“Okay.”
He looked at Sarah.
There were dozens of things they could have said.
Take care.
Call me.
I’m sorry.
I hate you.
I love you.
Don’t forget the electric bill.
Instead Sarah said, “The roads are getting icy.”
Daniel nodded.
“I’ll text when I’m there.”
He walked out.
Leo went to the window.
They watched Daniel put the last duffel bag into the trunk.
The car backed out.
Turned.
Disappeared behind the neighbor’s hedge.
Leo continued looking through the glass.
Sarah stood several feet behind him.
She did not touch him.
After a while he asked, “Is that it?”
“For today.”
“No. I mean, is that moving out?”
Sarah looked toward the empty space beside the coat hooks where Daniel’s winter jacket had hung.
“Yes.”
Leo nodded.
“That was less stuff than I thought.”
“So did I.”
He turned.
“Can we have frozen pizza?”
“Yes.”
“Dad hates frozen pizza.”
Sarah almost said, Your dad isn’t here.
She caught it.
“Which one?”
“Pepperoni.”
They ate on the sofa.
Leo put too much hot sauce on one slice and drank almost an entire glass of milk.
At seven thirty Daniel called.
Leo let the phone ring four times before answering.
Sarah carried her plate into the kitchen to give him privacy.
She could still hear his half of the conversation.
“Hi.”
“No.”
“Pizza.”
“Pepperoni.”
“No.”
“I don’t know.”
“What?”
“No.”
“Maybe.”
“Okay.”
“Bye.”
The call lasted two minutes.
Sarah rinsed her plate.
Leo came in.
“He has no shower curtain.”
Sarah looked at him.
“What?”
“Dad forgot to buy a shower curtain.”
A laugh escaped her.
Leo laughed too.
Then he looked guilty.
Sarah shook her head.
“It’s funny.”
“He said he took a shower and got water everywhere.”
“That sounds right.”
“His towels were in the bedroom.”
“Also sounds right.”
Leo took his glass to the sink.
“Can we buy him one?”
Sarah paused.
“You want to?”
“He needs one.”
“We can.”
“Not a nice one.”
She smiled.
“Absolutely not.”
They bought Daniel an eight-dollar gray shower curtain the next day.
Leo picked it.
At four, Daniel arrived to get him.
Sarah stayed inside while Leo carried the plastic bag and his laundry basket to the car.
He had found the second sneaker.
Daniel’s apartment was six minutes away without traffic.
Leo timed it.
He watched the numbers on the dashboard clock.
Six minutes and eighteen seconds.
The building was three stories, brick on the front and beige siding on the sides. The parking lot had small piles of dirty snow pushed against the curbs. Someone on the second floor had left Christmas lights hanging from a balcony railing.
Daniel lived in 2B.
Leo had expected it to smell strange.
It smelled like new carpet and his father’s deodorant.
There was a sofa he recognized from the guest room.
A television on a cheap black stand.
Two lamps.
A folding table with three chairs even though only two people were expected to use it.
Daniel opened the bedroom at the end of the hall.
“This is yours.”
Leo stood in the doorway.
The walls were blue.
Not dark blue.
A pale blue that reminded him of the dentist.
There was a twin bed against the wall with a gray blanket. A small desk. A lamp. A bookshelf with six books Daniel had taken from the house, including the first three Dog Man books even though Leo had not read them in over a year.
The space pajamas were folded on the bed.
Leo picked them up.
“You didn’t return them.”
“I forgot.”
“They’re okay.”
Daniel looked at him.
“You sure?”
“They don’t have feet.”
“Right.”
Leo opened the desk drawer.
Empty.
The closet.
Three empty hangers.
“What goes here?”
“Whatever you want.”
Leo looked around.
A room could belong to you and still know nothing about you.
He put Randall on the bed.
The stuffed dinosaur looked ridiculous against the clean gray pillow.
Better.
“What do you want for dinner?” Daniel asked.
“Can we just stay here?”
“Sure.”
“Do you have food?”
Daniel opened the refrigerator.
They both looked inside.
Eggs.
Mustard.
A bag of shredded cheese.
Two yogurts.
Six cans of sparkling water.
Leo said, “No.”
Daniel laughed.
“Fair.”
They ordered pizza.
While waiting, Leo installed the shower curtain.
Daniel tried to help.
“You’re doing it backward,” Leo said.
“There is no backward.”
“The magnets go at the bottom.”
“I know that.”
“You put them at the top.”
Daniel looked at the curtain.
“Okay.”
“You would die without Mom.”
The words came out casually.
Then the room went quiet.
Leo stared at the plastic ring in his hand.
Daniel did not pretend he had not heard.
“I might have a very wet bathroom without your mom.”
Leo looked at him.
Daniel continued threading the rings.
“But I’ll figure things out.”
“Are you mad at her?”
“Yes.”
Leo blinked.
Daniel added, “Sometimes.”
“Is she mad at you?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Probably more than sometimes.”
May you like
Leo almost smiled.
Daniel clipped the last ring.
