Page 61 of Ten Years and Then…
His neighbor didn’t answer for a moment, and when he did, it was in a low, almost hesitant voice. “A new suit. For—God, if I can’t even say it out loud, what the hell am I doing? A date. My first first date in twenty-five years.”
Daniel didn’t know what to say to that. Mrs. Barnaby had passed away four years ago. That was a long time—in the movies, people started dating again, or even got married again, faster than that.
Why shouldn’t he? He didn’t need to be alone the rest of his life. And he had plenty to offer someone. He owned his house outright, he had a good job, he was a great father as far as his kids said. And he was—not that Daniel was a good judge of this—decent looking. He had all his hair, anyway. That seemed like a big plus at his age.
“That’s great,” Daniel said. “I hope it goes well.”
It took a half hour in the men’s department for Mr. Barnaby to find something he was satisfied with. He kept asking Daniel’s opinion, and it was weird the way he wanted to know, “What’s the style today? What are guys your age wearing?”
“Why are you so worried about that?”
“Because that’s what she’s probably looking for. Because—God help me—she’s twenty-six years old, okay?”
Daniel didn’t know how he managed to keep silent at that. That was only a couple of years older than his daughter Jane. It was bizarre. It was freaky. It was totally wrong.
No, that wasn’t for him to say. Mr. Barnaby had been kind to him his whole life. He’d obviously loved his wife deeply, and he’d been mourning her for four years now. If this girl wanted to go out with him, that was her business, and good for Mr. Barnaby for having the courage to ask her in the first place.
It was more courage than Daniel himself had. He’d broken up with Nora a year and a half ago and he hadn’t even thought about another girl.
Except that wasn’t true, was it? There was Valerie. He’d thought a lot about her. It was just that all his thoughts were about why she couldn’t be interested in him despite all the evidence to the contrary.
If his neighbor could work up the nerve to ask out a woman half his age, then the least he could do was to stop concocting ever more convoluted reasons why Valerie didn’t actually like him.
Nora, November 20
Nora was at Aunt Rachel’s apartment for yet another holiday. It was different this time, though. Dad was here, too, in the guest room while Nora shared a bed with Rachel.
Her father had been here for two weeks already; a plumbing disaster two floors above him had destroyed his ceiling and flooded half his apartment. It would be at least two more weeks before it was livable again.
This morning, Rachel was showing Dad around her office, so Nora was on her own. She took the subway down to Times Square, and without realizing it, ended up in front of the McDonalds on 45th and Seventh Ave.
“Get a grip,” she muttered to herself. That night was almost two years ago, and it wasn’t ever going to happen again.
Not with him.
She finally turned away from that spot. She spent an hour people-watching, window shopping, and finally found herself on Madison Ave., right in front of Ann Taylor.
A black skirt-suit in the window caught her eye. It wasn’t her style, not at all.
But maybe it should be. How many TV journalists did she see wearing flowery dresses or colorful skirts or leggings? None.
If she wanted to be taken seriously, maybe it was time to look serious, too. And Dad had told her she could use the emergency credit card to buy herself something as a much-belated birthday gift. So—what the heck—in she went.
It didn’t take long to find something even better than the suit in the window: a similar suit, except in dark pink and with a more flattering cut. She grabbed her size, took it into the fitting room and tried it on.
It felt great. And in the three-way mirror it looked perfect. But for $450—even if it was Dad’s money—she needed an outside opinion.
She took her purse and went back out into the store, looking for a sales clerk. Instead, she was approached by a redheaded woman probably around Rachel’s age, looking somehow both desperate and hopeful at the same time.
“I have a date tonight,” she said, “and I need something fantastic.”
Clearly she thought Nora worked here.
And equally clearly she needed help.
Nora remembered needing help herself. She remembered standing in front of her closet for a half hour before her first date with Daniel, until Kim saved her. Why not pay it forward now?
“Where are you going?”
