Page 25 of Ten Years and Then…
He’d probably grade her at A+ for this, but there hadn’t really been any occasion where he had truly needed help, so she had to mark herself down just slightly.
Overall, she was—all modesty aside—an A+ girlfriend.
Except—there was one area where she needed some serious remedial work. There were a couple of times when she’d nearly—and, in hindsight, completely irrationally—lost her temper at him. Nora had no illusions that things would be perfect forever with no arguments or difficulties. But at Halloween, and then again last night when they exchanged gifts, she—oh, God.
It only now hit her what she’d done.
She’d done that thing her mother did. The thing she absolutely hated, and one of the (many) things that had driven her parents to divorce. Her mother had a habit of deciding ahead of time exactly what the other person’s reaction should be to whatever she was saying or doing, and if the other person didn’t respond precisely as Karen Langley thought they should, she’d get nasty almost instantly. Cruel. Hateful, even.
And that’s what Nora herself had started to do, when Daniel saw her ridiculous Halloween outfit and instead of laughing or smiling, he’d been reminded of his sister. And again last night, when he’d responded with disbelief at the way they’d used the same photo to make their gifts for each other.
Nora had felt the immediate disappointment—and more—when she didn’t get the instant response she expected, just like her mother. And her temper had flared, just like her father.
She’d calmed down right away, and Daniel hadn’t said a word—maybe he hadn’t even really noticed—but it had happened.
What would happen the next time, if she didn’t catch herself, and Daniel did pick up on her sudden anger, and she said something horrible? One wrong word at the wrong moment could undo weeks or months of good things.
There was a reason her mother, in addition to the divorce, didn’t have many friends and had strained relationships with a lot of the family.
Even if Daniel wouldn’t give her a bad grade in Temper, she had to be honest and mark herself with a big fat D and a “needs improvement.”
Daniel, around the same time
Daniel had a companion for the train ride from Grand Central Station home. His neighbor across the street, Jane Barnaby, was a year ahead of him, and attending college in Cleveland. He’d asked what she was doing in Grand Central—he’d have thought she would be flying from Cleveland.
“I actually got home yesterday. I just had lunch with my best friend and her mom downtown.”
Jane was pretty, smart, and funny, and Daniel had always assigned her to the category of “Girls I have no possible chance with, so maybe I can talk with them without thinking about if they’d ever go out with me.” For the most part, that never really worked the way he’d hoped.
But now, Jane was in a new category: “Girls who aren’t Nora.” And it was surprisingly easy to talk to her for the forty minutes on the train and the ten minute walk from the Wakefield Metro North station to his house.
She noticed, too. “You seem different, Daniel. You look—I’m not sure, I can’t put a finger on it. But I can see it. Whatever it is, maybe you can tell my brother about it, because he needs it for sure.”
Jane had a twin brother who was painfully shy—more than Daniel had ever been, which was saying a lot. Daniel answered without really meaning to; the words spilled out. “He just needs to have an amazing girl fall in love with him, that’s my secret.” Then he cringed; that sounded obnoxious, and also totally unhelpful. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She clapped him on the shoulder. “Why not? You’re a great guy. You deserve it. And,”—she stared critically at him—“that’s exactly the difference. I’m happy for you. And for her, too.”
Daniel felt a sudden urge to show Jane the scrapbook. He couldn’t say why, except that he wanted to share it with someone, and there wasn’t anyone else. He wasn’t going to show it to his parents. Or, God forbid, Lisa. He’d let Bianca see it, except she wasn’t going to be here for Christmas.
Why not show it to Jane? “Can I show you something? I feel like I’m going to burst if I don’t talk about it with somebody.” She nodded, and he pulled it out of his backpack, handed it gingerly to her.
“Wow,” she said, after she’d looked through it. “I’ve never felt—there’s nobody I’d do something like this for. This girl is a keeper, Daniel.”
He smiled the rest of the ride home, and the walk from the station, and into his house. Nobody seemed to be home, even though his father’s car was parked in the driveway. He made enough of a racket between dragging his suitcase inside and the front door slamming shut—Dad still hadn’t fixed it—that anyone anywhere in the house should have heard him, so where was everyone?
He went into the kitchen to fix himself a snack, and he was still smiling when he came back out with a peanut butter sandwich.
There his parents were, and they weren’t smiling. His father had a slip of paper in his hand, and he waved it at Daniel. “What happened, son? These are not the grades we expect from you.” Daniel felt the smile disappear off his face at his father’s words.
Nora, an hour later
Nora walked out of the station and into the biting wind, looking for her father. She couldn’t see the silver Honda anywhere. He had his faults—quite a few—but lateness was not one of them. She couldn’t ever recall a time when he was supposed to be somewhere for her and he wasn’t there.
“Hey, Pumpkin!” Apparently he was here. But where? His car was nowhere to be found.
“Over here! Follow my voice!” It was difficult to tell exactly where it was coming from between the wind and the sounds of the traffic. But then she thought—yes, there! She saw him at last, leaning out the window of—what the hell was he driving?
It was red. Bright, candy-apple red. And it was a sports car. A convertible; she could see the soft fabric roof as she walked over.
