by Fox, Susan
He fingered one of the tiny boxes. “And maybe I’ll pay more attention. Like to what kind of jewelry she prefers.”
His mood had softened. I didn’t sense anger any more, only a pensive, reflective kind of regret. Hoping I wasn’t pushing my luck, I said, “A female friend like me could help you figure things like that out.”
His lips curved a millimeter. “You don’t intend to give up, do you?” he asked gruffly.
I shook my head vigorously. “No. I won’t give up on this friendship. You mean too much to me.”
“Can you understand how damned confusing that is for me?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
He studied the boxes again, for a long time. Then, in a quick gesture, he swept them off the table and into a jacket pocket.
He raised his head and gazed across the table at me. Assessingly.
I squirmed. “What?”
“Maybe I’ll try it,” he said softly. “Being friends. If I can get past the bruised ego. I don’t want to lose you either.”
“Can we start tonight?”
He shook his head firmly. “Too soon.”
“I guess.” But I had a horrible feeling that, if we didn’t start the transition to friendship tonight, we never would. The gap between us would widen until we were the kind of acquaintances who nodded when they passed on the street, but didn’t stop to speak.
“When you came in,” I said softly, “you said there was lots you wanted to tell me, and I’d really like to hear it.”
He studied me some more. “And I wanted to talk about it. Damn. If I don’t tell you, I have no-one else to tell. No-one who’d care.”
“Then tell me, Richard. Because I do care.”
I waited, and after a few more long moments, he said, “Oh, hell. There are a dozen reasons why I should walk out, but I’m not going to.” He gave a ragged chuckle. “Besides, I’ll starve to death if I don’t eat soon. I skipped breakfast and worked through lunch.”
Just like his father, I thought. Except Richard’s secretary didn’t take as good care of him as Gabriel’s did.
Feeling almost giddy with relief, I realized I was ravenous, too. I’d been so nervous, the only thing I’d eaten all day was a small container of yogurt. “Let’s get some food.”
Together we lined up at the buffet, as we’d done many times before. Tonight we were awkward, careful not to brush against each other or meet each other’s eyes.
Back at the table, we dug into the food, partly out of hunger and also, I was sure, because we didn’t know what to say. Finally I broke the silence. “Tell me your news.”
He stared at me, his face looking tired and strained, then he gave his head a shake. “It takes some getting used to. No wedding, no house, no kids. A friend.”
Today’s ubiquitous tears welled again, and I blinked quickly.
Hurriedly, he said, “All right, I have two pieces of news. The first is, I talked to Gabe about the DNA test.”
My mouth fell open. I’d been so busy agonizing over our relationship, I hadn’t even thought about the fact that Richard had only just discovered Gabriel might not be his father. First, Diane had dropped her bombshell, then I’d made it a double whammy by calling off our engagement. Could my timing have been any worse?
Added to that, I felt underhanded, because I’d known since Monday night that Gabriel had agreed to the test. I’d seen Richard’s father twice since the two men had last spoken to each other. Should I tell Richard? It would upset him, and I’d already done enough of that tonight. But nor did I want to deceive him. Nervously I said, “How did he take the news that he might not be your real father?”
“He swore a blue streak and said he could throttle Mom. Guess he had a right to be mad.”
I remembered something Gabriel had said. “He wasn’t mad at you, though, was he? I mean, he knew it was Diane’s fault, not yours.”
“I guess.” He shoved his glasses up. “Anyhow, I told him I wanted a DNA test. I was a little surprised when he asked why, because I figured he’d want it too. So I told him about…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head bemusedly. “I wanted the test so you and I would know what we were getting into when we got married. We’d know about any genetic problems that might affect our kids.” He stared across at me, his eyes looking unbearably sad behind his lenses. “But none of that’s important now.”
The world had changed, and we were both only beginning to realize all the things that had been affected. A few minutes ago I’d been hungry but now my stomach was churning. What I wanted most in the world was for this day to be over.
No, what I wanted most was to end the day with a realistic hope Richard and I could make a friendship work.
I leaned toward him and asked, “Do you still want the test?”
He blinked a couple of times, like he was refocusing. “Of course. I went to the lab yesterday and Gabe said he would, too. We should have the results next Monday. Yes, I need to know who I am, where I came from.” Narrowing his eyes, he added, “I will marry one day. And have children, too.”
Richard’s sharp tone suggested he wanted to hurt me, but his words actually had the opposite effect. Yes, I felt a twinge of jealousy but, much more than that, I was relieved. He was looking ahead to the future. I really did want him to find someone else and be happy with her. My mind knew that, even if my heart felt wounded by the idea. “Yes, you will.”
“That thought doesn’t even make you jealous, does it? Damn, Iz.”
What could I possibly say to that? Likely nothing that would help, so I decided not to try. “What did Gabriel say about the test?”
“He agreed. Why wouldn’t he?”
“This must be hard for him, too.”
“Why would he care? If I’m his kid, nothing’s changed for him. If I’m not, he’s off the hook and doesn’t owe me anything. He won’t have to bother with me any more.” Although he tried to sound cynical, I could hear the pain in his voice.
Gabriel had told me he loved Richard. Why on earth couldn’t he tell his son? “Or maybe the two of you can move on and find a new relationship.”
He cocked a skeptical eyebrow, then shrugged. “Whatever. There’s no point speculating. I’ll get the test results, I’ll tell him, then we’ll both do whatever we want to do.”
“You’re going to tell him?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Did he ask you to? Are you sure he wants to know?”
He picked up his knife and fork and sliced into a piece of tandoori chicken, then paused. “I never thought about it. Maybe I should ask. But I’ll tell Diane and Frank. And you, I guess, if I can get my head around this friendship idea of yours. It’s not like it’ll be a secret.”
As for secrets, I had to tell Richard at least part of the truth. After all, Gabriel might mention we’d been talking. “I didn’t tell you, I saw your f—Gabriel this week.”
“You saw Gabe?” He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Oh, to do with Jimmy Lee’s case? How’s that going anyhow?”
“As well as can be expected, I guess. But no, Richard, Gabriel came to the clinic. He found a dog that had been hit by a car, and brought it in.”
“Oh? Yeah, I could see him doing that. Saving the world again. So, you worked your magic and patched the dog up?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, remembering. “I wish. No, there was nothing I could do. The poor creature was too far gone. I had to euthanize her.”
“Ouch.” Since he’d known me, I’d had to euthanize a few animals and he knew how I hated it. “That’s too bad, Iz.” His expression was concerned and he reached out to touch my hand, then pulled back. For a moment his sympathy had made him forget how things stood between us.
“It’s always hard. But it was harder on Gabriel than on me.”
“Oh? He stayed?”
“Yes, he stayed with the dog. Until it was over.”
“He can be good in circumstances like that,” he admitted grudgingly. “I had this gerb
il when I was six. Called Ninja, if you can believe it. Anyhow, he died. Old age, natural causes, whatever. I came home from grade one, went to feed him, and found him dead in his cage. I was crying, inconsolable, and Mom didn’t know what to do. She kept saying we’d buy another one, but that wasn’t the point. Ninja wasn’t just a gerbil, he was … a unique personality.”
After almost a year together, he was for the first time telling me about the only pet he’d ever had. What a truly strange day this was.
“I know,” I said softly. “Each animal is unique and special. You can’t replace one with another.”
“I guess Mom would have known that, if she’d really thought about it. But she was panicky, she had a hysterical kid and a dead animal she didn’t want to touch. Anyhow, she called Gabe. And for once he actually came when we needed him. Guess he didn’t have any important clients that day.”
Ignoring the last bitter comment, I prompted, “What did he do?”
Richard closed his eyes briefly, as if to summon the memory. “Took Ninja out of his cage. He didn’t put on gloves like Mom wanted him too, he picked him up and held him. Almost as if he was still alive. Then he held out his hands for me to take him. Mom was saying no, I shouldn’t touch a dead animal, but Gabe stopped her. He told me I should hold Ninja and say goodbye, since I hadn’t had a chance to do it when he was alive.”
I remembered the way Gabriel had stroked Valente’s head as I put her to sleep. “And did you?”
His eyes were soft with remembered grief. “I held Ninja, and Gabe talked to me about death. He said every creature dies, it’s part of how nature works. That it’s sad, but not horrible. Not something to be scared of. Gabe and I went out into the back yard—we were renting a bungalow in Richmond—and he dug a grave and we buried Ninja. He suggested I find a special stone to mark the spot.
“After we were done, I asked Gabe if Ninja was gone forever, or if he was in heaven. He and Mom hadn’t taught me about religion, but I’d heard things from other kids.”
“What did he say?”
“He said no-one knows what happens to animals and people after they die. But the one thing that’s for sure is they live on in the memories of those who remain behind. He told me that as long as I thought of Ninja, some part of him would always be alive.” He gave a crooked smile. “I hadn’t thought of that gerbil in years. But tonight, he’s … kind of alive again.”
I smiled back. “And now I’ve met him, too.”
“You’d have liked him, Iz. He was a feisty little guy.”
Our eyes met across the table, and I felt a pervasive ache of regret. Not because I thought I’d made the wrong decision, but for all that I was giving up. If Richard and I had had kids, I’d have made sure they got a gerbil. Again I had to blink away tears. “Damn.”
“You can say that again.” But his tone was resigned rather than angry now. He made a determined assault on the lamb biryani he’d taken from the buffet, and I sipped cold chai tea.
After a moment I said, “Richard? You have some good memories about how Gabriel was as a father. Not just bad ones.”
He frowned slightly, more in concentration than disagreement. “I suppose.”
“Sounds to me like he cared about you.”
For once, Richard didn’t reject the notion out of hand. “Maybe. In his way.”
“Inadequate is far better than unloving.”
“I guess.” He put down his fork and shoved his plate away. “So, is that the point of tonight?” His voice had taken on an edge. “The lesson I’m supposed to learn? That even if I don’t get the kind of love I want, I should be thankful for a little bit of caring?”
He had posed another unanswerable question. I let it drop between us without responding.
A busboy cleared our plates and brought fresh tea and coffee. When he’d gone, I said, “You had some other news? About Eric?”
Richard’s face brightened. “Right. I think things are going to work out.”
“That’s great. So Caroline Winston approved of you? I can’t even remember if I told you she phoned. She sounded nice.”
“I may have misjudged her. When I saw Eric hanging out in the evening, alone or with that gang, I thought she was neglectful. While it’s true she leaves him alone, it’s only because she needs to work two jobs.”
“Oh? That sounds tough. Where’s Eric’s father?”
“He was never in the picture. She had Eric when she was a teenager, and she dropped out of high school. Her parents were so mad at her for ruining her life, they ruined it further by refusing to help. Caroline’s always been the sole support of herself and Eric, and she’s in a vicious circle. She’s so busy earning enough money to meet their needs, she doesn’t have time to go back to school and get the training that would let her get a higher-paying job.”
“Aren’t there programs for women like her?”
“You’d think so. I haven’t talked to her about it. Don’t know her well enough. Pride could be standing in her way. She’s definitely proud. She wants Eric to have at least some of the things—clothes, toys, games—the other boys have.”
I could relate to that. My parents had never been big on material possessions. Now I agreed with them, but as a kid I’d hated wearing second-hand clothes and not having all the latest toys. “What are her two jobs?”
“Day-time she’s a secretary at a church. It doesn’t pay much but she’s on their extended health plan and they’re flexible about her hours. She can stay home with Eric if he’s sick, and take time off if he needs to go to the doctor or dentist.”
“And her night job?”
“Waitressing at a local restaurant. She gets okay tips and she’s close to home if Eric needs her.”
“Close to home, but not home with him.” I frowned. “Didn’t you say he’s only twelve? What did she do when he was younger?”
“Just worked one job. The church let her pick him up after school and bring him back to work with her.”
“That’s good of them. But why does she need the two jobs now?”
“She wants Eric to have the educational opportunities she didn’t. To go on to college, university, technical training, whatever he’s interested in when the time comes. That’s what she’s saving for.”
“But in the process, he’s drifting in with the wrong kids. Perhaps losing direction, motivation. And partly because she’s not home enough to give him guidance.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s a Catch 22. And she has been worried about him, but she didn’t realize how bad the situation was until I told her about the boys I’d seen him with.”
“So she overcame her pride and agreed to let you try to help?”
“She hasn’t decided yet. Caroline’s cautious, which is good. Last night was one of her nights off from the restaurant, and she and Eric and I went to a pizza place for supper.”
I’d turned him down for dinner and he’d spent the evening with Eric and his mom. And I’d gone for a walk with Gabriel and made a life-altering decision. It had been quite an evening.
Pulling my attention back to his story, I asked, “How did it go with Eric?”
“He was quiet. Checking me out. I think at first he figured I might be hustling his mom—using him to get to her—and he was a little obnoxious. Caroline and I tried out a few topics of conversation before I hit on hockey. Turns out Eric’s a fan, too.”
“What boy isn’t? All those grown men racing around and whacking each other with sticks.” I thought the game—I refused to call it a sport—was ridiculous.
He rolled his eyes. “They’re supposed to be whacking the puck, not each other. Anyhow, there’s a Canucks playoff game tomorrow night. Caroline’s switching shifts with another waitress and the three of us are going to go.”
“Lucky woman,” I said dryly.
“I know you find it hard to believe, but some women actually like the sport. She’s one. She took Eric to a game for his last birthday, but that’s the only time they’ve ever seen one
live.”
Did Caroline really like hockey, or was she just being nice to her son? And, on the heels of that question, I wondered if I should have tried harder to share Richard’s interests. Would it have killed me to go to an occasional hockey game? If I’d tried to share more of his passions, might the two of us have felt more passionate toward each other? I swallowed hard. “I’m sure it’ll be a real treat for both of them. But…”
“What?”
“I thought the idea was for you to … I’m not sure of the right word—befriend? mentor?—Eric, not his mother.”
“That’ll come. She wants to get to know me better first. Before she trusts me alone with him.”
“She does sound responsible.”
“We talked about me spending some time alone with Eric this weekend. We haven’t told him yet. She wants to see how things go tomorrow.”
Tomorrow night, Richard would be eating French fries and cheering at a hockey game alongside Eric and his mom. Whereas I had absolutely no plans. You’d almost think he was the one who had done the breaking up.
Feeling sorry for yourself again, Isadora? I chastised myself. Besides, I did have plans. I needed to talk to my parents and Janice. To share my news, hear their reactions, and hopefully collect sympathy hugs. Right now I could really use a hug.
I realized Richard was staring at me again, his face pale and strained. “I’ve had all I can take for tonight, Iz. When I talk about Eric and Caroline—or even Gabe—I get distracted, but then I look at you and… All I can think is, you’re the same woman, but you’re not. You’re not going to marry me. We’re not going to have children together.”
His words, his sorrowful tone, went straight to my heart and, with absolutely no warning, the tears I’d been fighting off all evening spilled over. “Sorry,” I choked out, hunting desperately for a tissue.
“Shit.”
I tried to stem the flood while Richard, working in high-speed panic mode, got the bill and slapped down some money. “Let’s go,” he urged.
Still sniffling, I got to my feet and let him steer me out of the restaurant.