Page 34 of Ten Years and Then…
Marie shook her head. “He’ll just be happy to hear from you, Nora. I’ll leave you to it. You have a good night, honey.” And then Marie kissed her forehead before leaving and closing the door behind her.
She did owe it to him. Maybe her father wasn’t perfect, or even in the same zip code as perfect, but he loved her. And despite everything she felt about him—all the different emotions she couldn’t even name—she loved him too.
Still, it took her three tries to actually dial the phone. She kept asking herself—what if he was angry with her? What if Joelle answered the phone? What if he hung up the moment he realized it was her?
She finally did it anyway, and he answered on the first ring. “Hello? Who is this?” She had forgotten about the caller ID. He had to be wondering why some random person named Keller was calling him from New York City on Christmas night.
“Dad, it’s me. I’m …” She couldn’t start this conversation with a lie. “I’m at my boyfriend’s house. His parents invited me for Christmas dinner, and I’m staying in his sister’s old bedroom. But I’ll tell you all about that later.” The tears started up again, and her voice caught a couple of times before she could go on. “I just wanted to say I love you. And I’m really sorry. It was so crappy to run away to Aunt Rachel like I did. And it was mean to Joelle, and I’ll apologize to her too, because she was really nice and I liked her, and I hope—I don’t even know what I hope, Dad. But you know I love you, right? Please tell me you know.”
She heard his voice catch, and what she thought—knew—was sobbing from him. “Of course I know, Pumpkin! Of course I know …”
Daniel, December 26
His father had volunteered to drive Nora back to her aunt’s apartment. Well, insisted. Or, really, demanded.
He assumed Dad wanted to see what kind of place Nora’s aunt lived in, and, by extension, what that said about her family. And he probably also wanted the chance to talk to Nora without Mom around to deflect any hard questions.
But Dad surprised him. He did ask a lot of questions, but they weren’t intrusive or harsh or anything. It was all basic stuff that anyone would ask of someone they’d just met recently. Dad was as polite and … well, as nice as Daniel had ever seen him be.
His father did whistle when they parked in front of the apartment building, right there on Central Park West. “That’s some place, Nora. I have to ask, what does your aunt do to afford it here?”
“She works for a travel company. Like, corporate travel. Her boss just quit in October so she’s been taking up the slack.” She laughed. “But you know what, Mr. Keller? I wondered about how much it must cost, too. I never thought about it all the times I was here before, but—I guess now that I have to watch my own money, I’ve been thinking more about stuff like that.”
“Smart girl,” his father said, then he turned back to Daniel, “Go and see her to the door.”
Daniel got out, opened the passenger door for Nora and took her hand. “I hope Dad wasn’t too—well, you know. Too much, I guess.”
She chuckled. “No. He was great. So was your Mom. And you, but you knew that already.” When they got to the front door, a doorman opened it for Nora. “I guess that’s my cue.” She embraced him, kissed him—much too quickly, but with his father watching, that was probably for the best.
“I’ll call you later. I love you, Nora.”
She turned to go inside, but turned back, took his hands in hers. “I love you, too. And I’m—God, yesterday was so nice. It meant so much to me, you don’t even know. I’ll be waiting by the phone.”
And then she disappeared inside, and he walked back to the car.
“She’s a lovely girl,” his father said once they were on their way back home. “I understand what you see in her. But you need to understand.”
This is what Daniel had been dreading. He tried to keep his voice calm and level when he asked, “Understand what, Dad?”
His father didn’t look over at him; he kept his eyes firmly on the road as he talked. “What real love is. Adult love. It’s not about kissing a pretty girl, or hugging her when she’s crying because she failed a quiz or whatever.” Daniel wanted to protest, to shout at his father, but he held his tongue. “It’s about being there for someone when the worst happens. When they’re sick—I don’t mean a cold or a sprained ankle. Or when money is tight and you don’t know how you’ll pay the rent. All the things that you can’t fix with a kind word and a smile.” Now he did glance over towards Daniel. “And it’s about protecting them from things they don’t need to see.”
That sounded crazy. And horrible. “Dad, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Did you ever wonder why we sent you and your sister to visit Aunt Carla and Uncle Sebastian back when you were eight or nine?” They were Bianca’s parents; that had been a fantastic two weeks.
“I thought they just wanted to see us.” That sounded lame—beyond lame—but he had never given it any more thought than that.
“Your mother was in the hospital. She had her gall bladder out. We were pretty worried for a couple of days there, and we didn’t want you or your sister to have to be afraid for her, or feel like you had to take care of her. You were just kids. And that’s how we loved you.” That didn’t sound like love. It sounded like fear, more than anything.
“I would have—we both would have helped! We would have wanted to take care of Mom. Why would you put it all on yourself, Dad?” He didn’t ask the other question he wanted to—what if it had all gone wrong, and Mom had—no, he couldn’t even think that.
“That’s what love is. Protecting, even if it means pushing the ones you love away at times. You take it on yourself so they don’t have to.” His father sighed, and went on with a weary voice. “You don’t understand yet. I know you don’t. You say you love Nora. You really think you love her. But you’ve never had to make a really hard choice. I don’t wish it on you, but what I want, or what you want, doesn’t matter. The world doesn’t care what you want. It’s going to sucker punch you, and you’re going to have to do things you don’t want, make choices you never thought you’d have to. And when that day comes, you’ll know what love really means.”
Daniel didn’t answer that. He didn’t agree with his father, but he didn’t know how to argue against any of it. Or if there even was an argument against it.
Nora, December 30
She hadn’t seen Daniel since the morning after Christmas. They’d talked for at least an hour every day, but it wasn’t the same as being with him. And at times during those calls, he’d seemed—not distracted, but like there was something he couldn’t tell her. He’d hesitate just a second or two too long, especially when she asked something about his parents.
