Chương 12
Daniel hated that.
He also understood it.
Those two things became familiar companions.
Richard did receive a custodial sentence on the obstruction and fraud matters.
Before reporting, he asked Emily to meet him.
She refused twice.
The third time she asked Daniel to come.
They met at a quiet restaurant outside Denver because Emily said she did not want to see him in either of their homes.
Richard arrived early.
Of course he did.
He had lost weight.
His silver hair was still slicked back.
He still wore an expensive watch.
Daniel noticed because some habits survived disgrace.
They ordered coffee.
Nobody touched it.
Richard looked at Emily.
“You look well.”
She said, “Please don’t start with that.”
He nodded.
Daniel almost enjoyed watching Richard obey.
Almost.
“I won’t ask you to forgive me,” Richard said.
Emily stared at him.
“That’s generous.”
His face tightened.
“I deserve that.”
“Stop doing that too.”
“Doing what?”
“Turning every insult into evidence of your self-awareness.”
Richard looked genuinely taken aback.
Daniel looked down so neither would see him smile.
Emily continued.
“You don’t get points for knowing what you did.”
“I know.”
She closed her eyes.
Richard stopped.
“Sorry.”
That time Daniel did smile.
Emily saw it.
A tiny laugh escaped her.
Richard looked from one to the other.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Emily said.
For thirty seconds they were simply three people sitting in a restaurant trying not to become versions of themselves they disliked.
Then Richard said, “I loved you.”
Emily’s face hardened.
“Past tense?”
“I’m trying not to tell you what you should believe about me.”
She looked at him for a long time.
“Good.”
Richard’s thumb moved once over the edge of his coffee cup.
“I thought protecting you meant preventing consequences.”
Emily said nothing.
“I did that from the time you were a child. School problems. A car accident when you were seventeen. That awful apartment lease in Boston.”
Despite herself, Emily said, “That apartment had rats.”
“It had one rat.”
“We saw one rat.”
Daniel leaned back.
He had never heard about the rat.
Richard continued.
“I became very good at making problems disappear.”
Emily’s expression softened and hardened almost simultaneously.
“And when Owen died?”
“I treated him like a problem.”
Richard looked at Daniel.
“I am sorry.”
Daniel felt no relief.
No closure.
Just an old ache moving slightly.
“You should be.”
Richard nodded.
Daniel expected himself to say more.
He did not.
Emily did.
“You treated me like a problem too.”
Richard looked at her.
“When?”
“The hangar.”
His face changed.
“You weren’t trying to help me.”
“I believed I was.”
“No. You were trying to move me somewhere you could control what happened next.”
Richard said nothing.
“You heard me say I didn’t want the sedative.”
“Yes.”
“You authorized it anyway.”
“Yes.”
“You put me back in the exact place I had been the night Owen died.”
Richard looked down.
Emily’s voice remained calm.
“Someone else deciding there wasn’t time to listen to me.”
Daniel watched Richard absorb that.
No defense came.
Good.
When they left the restaurant, Richard remained at the table.
Emily and Daniel walked toward the parking lot.
Snow had begun falling lightly.
Daniel shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
Emily said, “I’m going to miss him.”
Daniel looked at her.
She seemed embarrassed.
“He’s not dead.”
“I know.”
“You can visit.”
“I know.”
They walked farther.
“I’m still going to miss him.”
Daniel nodded.
“That makes sense.”
“Does it?”
“Unfortunately.”
She slipped once on a patch of ice.
Daniel caught her elbow.
They both froze.
Physical contact had become complicated during the separation.
Emily looked at his hand.
Daniel let go.
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
At her car, she turned.
“Our anniversary is next week.”
“I know.”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“I know dates.”
“You forgot my birthday once.”
“I was working nights.”
“You bought me gas-station flowers.”
“They were excellent flowers.”
“They had glitter.”
“That costs extra.”
Emily laughed.
Daniel did too.
Then neither knew what to do with the moment.
She opened the car door.
“Do you want dinner?”
He looked at her.
“Not anniversary dinner.”
“Okay.”
“Just dinner.”
“Okay.”
“Somewhere cheap.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want us trying to save a marriage over linen napkins.”
Daniel stared at her.
“That might be the first good idea you’ve had in a year.”
She winced theatrically.
“Still mean.”
“Still here.”
Emily looked at him.
The words surprised Daniel as much as they surprised her.
Still here.
Not forever.
Not forgiven.
Not fixed.
Here.
They ate tacos the following Tuesday at a place beside a tire shop.
Daniel ordered too much salsa.
Emily stole his drink.
They talked about everything except Owen for nearly forty minutes.
A broken dishwasher.
Daniel’s mother’s new obsession with Korean television.
Emily’s application for a job at a nonprofit that trained caregivers.
The waiter brought the wrong order and Emily ate it anyway because she said she was hungry.
Then Daniel asked, “Did Owen say anything else?”
Emily put down her fork.
They had spoken about him dozens of times by then.
But not all questions arrived when answers became available.
“After he said not to tell you?”
“Yes.”
Emily looked toward the front window.
“He said he was sorry.”
“For what?”
“I asked.”
Daniel waited.
“He said, ‘Being the expensive brother.’”
Daniel stared at her.
Then he laughed.
He could hear Owen saying it.
Exactly like that.
Years earlier, when their mother complained that Daniel was expensive because he broke an arm playing football, Owen had announced he planned to become “the expensive brother” out of competitive principle.
He had succeeded spectacularly.
Daniel covered his mouth.
Emily’s eyes filled.
“He was scared,” she said.
“I know.”
“I held his hand.”
Daniel nodded.
“I’m glad.”
She stared at him.
The sentence had come without planning.
Daniel let it stay.
“I’m glad he wasn’t alone.”
Emily wiped under one eye.
“Thank you.”
“That isn’t forgiveness.”
“I know.”
He sighed.
“You really have to stop saying that.”
May you like
She smiled.
Months later, Daniel visited Owen’s grave with his mother.
