After our encounter with Nicola at the Tower of London, it was impossible not to notice the energy between us shifting. Nicola had always been there—intangible, yet somehow powerfully present. It was as if Daniel and I had been on parallel paths with her shadow filling the space between us.
Then there were those times when Daniel’s path had completely veered away from mine, and I’d been left scrambling to bring him back. Whether it was a conflict with his father, a crisis involving Aaron, or a recurring nightmare, Nicola’s accusation had been at the root of it all.
Now that Daniel had forgiven her and unburdened himself in the process, there was something different about the way he was looking at me—something focused and centered in his expression. He’d promised he would try to find himself again. From what I’d witnessed in the course of a mere twenty-four hours, he wouldn’t have to look far.
After being away for several weeks, my responsibilities at home needed attention. Several copies of the August issue of Sidelines were waiting for me in the mail upon our return. Still amazed that my writing was being published, I excitedly perused the articles I’d written. Then I read the note Eli had slipped inside the envelope with the magazines. He told me, in no uncertain terms, to brace myself for the late-summer and fall slate.
He wasn’t kidding.
Throughout the last two weeks of August, I ran from concert to festival gig, submitting numerous reviews for Eli’s blog and the October issue of the magazine. Daniel joined me at a few of the seedier venues, but ultimately he had to face reality—tagging along with me to every show wasn’t a viable long-term arrangement. The notion became less horrifying every time I returned home unmolested and in one piece.
Daniel was absorbed with his thesis, working as hard as I was. I was heartened by his renewed interest in his work and encouraged by the fact that he was sleeping better and anticipating the new semester with fresh enthusiasm. By the first week of September, he’d met with Professor Brown several times to draw up plans and tutorial schedules for the year.
With the arrival of the Labor Day weekend and the school year a few days away, we finished our work on Saturday evening and made a pact to shelve our responsibilities for the rest of the weekend. Late Sunday afternoon, we made our way to Daniel’s parents’ house for a family barbeque. I thought we’d left ourselves plenty of time, but somehow we still arrived fashionably late.
“Here they are!” David exclaimed, standing up when he heard the garden gate swinging closed behind us. “I told your mother you’d be here any minute,” he said, shaking Daniel’s hand and bending to kiss my cheek.
Jeremy and Julie waved from the other side of the patio table, and I squeezed into the empty chair beside Julie.
“It’s about time!” Brad complained. “Mom wouldn’t bring out the appetizers till you got here. I’m starving.”
“If she’d put them out earlier, we’d be doing the dishes by now,” Penny quipped, smiling as Daniel gave her a kiss.
“You’re one to talk, Miss Thang,” Brad said, ribbing her. “You’ve been eating us out of house and home the last couple of weeks.”
Penny slapped him on the leg, a warning look in her eyes. He chortled, leaning over to nuzzle her cheek. Marriage hadn’t done anything to curb their feistiness.
Daniel dragged a chair beside mine and pulled multiple copies of the most recent issue of Sidelines out of a canvas bag and set them on the table.
“You did ask for a copy, right, Mom?”
“Absolutely.” She smiled as Daniel handed her a magazine.
David watched over her shoulder as she flipped through to find my articles. Julie and Jeremy reached across the table at the same time, each snapping up their own copy.
“It’s cool seeing your name in print,” Julie said.
“I’m sure that’ll never get old,” I confessed, my face burning with a mixture of pride and embarrassment.
“You know,” Gwen said airily, “I was talking to my friend Ralph Davidson from The Globe and Mail the other day. One of his freelancers is off on maternity leave, and he’s scrambling for someone to cover the Stratford Festival. I mentioned you in passing, Aubrey. He sounded interested. I think you’d be perfect.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said hesitantly.
I glanced at Daniel, wondering if he’d had anything to do with his mother’s suggestion. This wasn’t the first time I’d heard Ralph Davidson’s name.
“Don’t look at me,” he said, holding his hands up defensively. He pointed to his mother. “Talk to that woman right over there.”
“Maybe I’ll get some more information from you later, Gwen?” I said.
“Of course, dear. With your love of Shakespeare, it seemed a perfect fit.” She pushed her chair back. “Anyway, let me grab some food before Brad faints. He’s so delicate, you know.”
Gwen and David disappeared into the house.
“Can I get you anything, babe?” Brad motioned to Penny’s glass. “Another Perrier? Are you sure you’re okay in that seat?”
“Stop fussing, would you?” Penny said, slapping his hands away.
“Yeah, you’re her husband, not her personal care worker.” Jeremy snorted.
Daniel’s parents emerged with the appetizers. Gwen pointed at the plates of dip and crackers.
“That’s a hot crab dip, and this one’s spinach and artichoke,” she said. “Dig in.”
Food quickly took precedence, but as we were stuffing our faces, Penny put her hand over her mouth. Brad peered at her worriedly.
“You okay, babe?”
She jumped up, shaking her head and walking to the side of the house, fanning herself frantically. Brad followed, rubbing her back.
I turned to Daniel. “Is she all right?”
At the other end of the table, Gwen looked at the crab dip then brought her own hands to her mouth and stood.
“Gwen?” David said. “Is there something wrong with the dip?”
She shook her head, locking eyes with Brad, who was now grinning at his mother. They seemed to be silently communicating.
“Yes?” Gwen said.
Penny buried her face in Brad’s neck, and Brad nodded.
Beside me, Daniel said, “Oh my God,” in a reverential tone.
“What’s going on?” Jeremy asked.
“I think we’re going to be uncles,” Daniel said.
With those words, Gwen shrieked. I’d never seen a less decorous display of joy from Daniel’s mother. It was amazing. She dashed across the patio and hugged her son and Penny simultaneously.
David surveyed the three of them with his hands on his hips. “I don’t think I’m old enough to be a grandfather.”
“I suppose the truth had to come out sooner or later,” Penny said, emerging from the group hug and returning to the table. “We didn’t want to say anything too soon, but it’s a lot easier with you all knowing.”
She waved away the crab dip. Brad dutifully moved it to the end of the table, and Penny sat, the color gradually returning to her face.
“Now you know why Brad looks as pleased as a pig in mud,” Penny said.
Brad leaned back in his chair with one of those cocky my-boys-can-swim smiles.
“So, give us some details!” Julie exclaimed. “How far along are you?”
“Just eight weeks.”
“Wait, you were pregnant at the wedding?” Daniel asked, his eyebrows shooting up.
“Thanks for pointing that out, Daniel,” Penny said, lancing him with an icy glare. She looked at her mother-in-law apologetically.
Gwen waved her hand dismissively. “What’s the point in waiting? These days, you can never start trying too soon. I couldn’t be more thrilled.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Brad said.
Gwen reached over to squeeze Penny’s hand. “Oh my goodness, I should call my mother. Is it too soon, or is it all right for me to tell Patty?”
“Oh, why not?” Penny laughed.
“Go for it, Mom,” Brad
said.
Gwen clapped her hands and dashed across the patio.
“I think it’s safe to say your mother’s on cloud nine,” David said, smirking at the proud parents-to-be. “I’d better go in and make sure she doesn’t start calling everyone she knows. Best wait a few more weeks before allowing the news to go viral, yes?”
As he disappeared into the house, Jeremy gazed at Brad, a curious look on his face.
“What?” Brad said, his back stiffening defensively.
“I just had a vision of you trying to change a baby’s diaper,” Jeremy said.
“In the vision, did Brad look like a monkey wearing oven mitts?” Daniel asked.
Julie shook her head. “You two are awful.” She turned to Penny and Brad. “I think you’re going to be great parents.”
“I bet Patty’s going ballistic,” Jeremy said. “First great-grandchild. That kid’s gonna be spoiled rotten.”
“No kidding,” Daniel said.
“Where is Patty?” I asked. “I was looking forward to seeing her today.”
“She’s with Gerald,” Julie said. “He sprained his ankle—possibly tore a tendon. He can hardly walk. Patty didn’t want to leave him alone.”
Daniel grimaced. “How’d he do that?”
“He was mowing her lawn,” Brad said.
The three boys chortled, and Julie rolled her eyes. I couldn’t help thinking that if Patty were here, she’d be the one turning the event into a dirty joke.
Penny tapped her nails on the table, quirking an eyebrow at Daniel and sporting her trademark cheeky smile. “So, what’s up with you two? Any news to share?”
I contemplated telling everyone that Daniel’s shirt closet wasn’t color-coded anymore and that he no longer checked The Weather Network seventeen times before going out, but that didn’t seem to be the kind of news she was digging for. Before Daniel could make some wisecrack rebuttal, David appeared at the patio door.
“Daniel, Aubrey, could you come inside for a minute? There’s something I’d like to show you.”
Daniel pushed back his chair and took my hand.
“What’s this all about?” I asked him.
“No clue. Sorry, guys, back in a sec.”
In the kitchen, Gwen was chatting excitedly on the phone. Daniel and I followed his father upstairs and into his office, where David motioned for us to sit on the leather sofa. He rooted around in his briefcase, pulling a paper free and handing it to Daniel.
“I received this letter at my office on Thursday,” he said. “Read it out loud so Aubrey can hear.”
After a cursory scan of the paper, Daniel’s expression registered his surprise. “It’s from Nicola.”
“Indeed,” his father said.
Daniel held the page tautly in both hands and began to read:
“Dear Mr. Grant,
“You must be surprised to be hearing from me. I had a surprise, too, a couple of weeks ago, when Daniel came to see me. We had a good talk. He mentioned that you’re an administrator at a Canadian university. He didn’t say which university, but a Google search told me what I needed to know.
“I’ve enclosed a bank draft with this letter. Daniel said you wouldn’t want me to return the money. He said you’d prefer me to use the money wisely. I’ve used a small portion to pay for some college courses starting in January, but the rest I’m sending back. I’ll continue working at my part-time job, and since I’ve moved back home, I won’t have living expenses to worry about, so I’ll be able to pay for the rest of my tuition. I hope you’ll be grateful to see this money returned. If you’re even half as good and kind as Daniel, I’m sure the money is better off in your hands than in mine. I’ll never be able to undo what I did to Daniel last year, but I’ve learned from my mistake, and I hope he doesn’t continue to suffer for it.
“Sincerely, Nicola Clarke.”
Daniel handed the letter back to his father.
“Wow,” he said, shaking his head as if he’d been struck by a hard object and he needed to collect his wits.
“I’ll say. When you told me you’d gone to see her, I never imagined this would have come out of your meeting.”
“I didn’t tell her to write that letter. I tried to convince her to put her life back together,” Daniel said, already on the defensive. “I’m as surprised as you are.”
David looked at his son contemplatively. Here, in black and white, was proof that his son had been entirely innocent of the accusations she’d leveled. How I wished I could see inside his head.
“Give yourself some credit, Daniel,” I said, unable to hold my tongue. “You obviously got through to her. She must have done some serious soul-searching afterward.”
“Aubrey’s right,” David said. “Going to see her in the first place was decent of you, but I’m sure you put a great deal of thought into what you said to her.”
Daniel reached for my hand, taking it in both of his. “Not really. Everything happened so fast. All I did was tell her the truth.” He paused, looking down at the carpet and then back at his father. “How do you feel about the money being returned?”
David gazed at us over his bridged hands.
“You were right. I wasn’t interested in having the money back, but she’s sent it, so there’s no point rejecting the gesture. I’ll put it to good use. Perhaps something philanthropic would be appropriate.”
“You have a grandchild on the way,” I pointed out. “You could get Penny and Brad started on a savings plan for school.”
“That’s a great suggestion,” David said. “I’d like the money to benefit someone outside the family too.” He closed his eyes. “What was that girl’s name, Aubrey? The one whose family lost their house at Christmas?”
I scanned my memory, a search that took me back to a Monday morning in February when David had cobbled together a bursary with some provincially released funds—the same morning Daniel had caught me rifling through his father’s filing cabinet drawer.
“Shannon Davis, wasn’t it?” I said.
David snapped his fingers. “That’s exactly right. I’ll set her up with an anonymous bursary to help her with the upcoming term. Money well spent, I’d say.” He tossed the letter into his briefcase before drawing another paper out of a folder and handing it to Daniel. “There’s one more thing. This is probably a moot point, but you might be interested in seeing it anyway.”
I snuck a peek at the page. There was an Oxford University crest at the top. “What’s that?” I asked.
Daniel exhaled shakily. “This is the letter from Oxford, outlining the events of last year,” he said. “I saw this in my file when I met with Aaron O’Connor in June. How did you get it?”
David tapped his index fingers together.
“Remember I told you I was working on something involving Aaron, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to seal the deal? I didn’t want to get your hopes up unnecessarily in June, but he came through for me in the end. This letter arrived at the office while we were in the UK.”
“O’Connor gave it to you? Willingly?”
“I did give him something in exchange.”
“What could he possibly want from you that would be as significant to him as this is to us?”
David shrugged. “Everything’s relative. One of Aaron’s greatest frustrations is Travis’s difficulty finding a decent job. I wrote him a glowing letter of recommendation.”
“Dad, the kid behaved appallingly,” Daniel said. “What the hell did you find to glow about?”
“He had an excellent academic record. Perhaps a letter from the Provost of one of the most prestigious universities in the country will be the edge he needs to rise above the competition.”
“So, Aaron helps me, and in exchange you help his son?” Daniel said.
“Essentially, yes.”
Daniel frowned. “I’m surprised you’d do something like this.”
“Even my conscience doesn’t extend as far as pricking me for trying to end my son’s suffe
ring. That letter would have been expunged from your file after a year. I’ve merely expedited the process by two months—”
“Which ensures that whoever takes over for Aaron doesn’t get an eyeful of this letter before I start the new school term.”
“Precisely. I didn’t want you to start another year with a black mark against your name.” He paused for a moment, his lips pursed. “I suppose I felt I needed to do something significant to prove once and for all that I believe you as well.”
Daniel looked meditatively at the letter. “Aubrey, would you give us a few minutes?”
“Of course.” I squeezed his hand before slipping from the room, closing the door behind me.
I couldn’t blame Daniel for wanting a few quiet moments with his father. After eighteen months of quibbling and suspicion, they seemed on the brink of repairing their damaged relationship. The last thing they needed was me hovering.
Downstairs, Gwen was directing traffic as Jeremy and Brad refreshed drinks. I offered to help, and Gwen gave me a couple of tomatoes to slice for a salad. Jeremy and Brad returned outside, and I got her up to speed on what was happening upstairs. She smiled as she grated Parmesan cheese for her Caesar salad.
“Things between Daniel and David have been tense for so long. It’s terrible watching them snipe at each other all the time. I’m glad they’re talking. This is good.”
“It’s fair to say they’re turning a corner.”
“First Penny and Brad’s news, and now we’re putting this Oxford business behind us.” Gwen sniffed and brought her hand to her throat. “I feel like I’m dreaming. It’s a little overwhelming.”
Daniel’s footsteps clattering down the stairs interrupted us. I spun around as he strode into the kitchen, his eyes still betraying his amazement at this sudden turn of events.
“You okay?” I asked him.
“Yeah. I’m good.” He addressed his mother over my shoulder. “Is it all right if Aubrey and I sneak away for a few minutes to talk?”
“Of course,” his mother said. “We won’t be eating until six at the earliest. We’ll wait until you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Daniel took my hand and led me to the music room. He closed the door, locking it for good measure, and then he pulled me into his arms.
The Truest of Words Page 31