13. Dumb Enough to Fall
13 DUMB ENOUGH TO FALL
Cal
“The eulogy was beautiful,” Tom said.
Mom nodded. “You’re a wonderful communicator. The Delphines no doubt appreciated your kind words.”
“I did what I could to remember a man who was very good to me,” I said.
“He was. He did right by you. I’ll grant him that.” By Elise Markham’s standards, that was a broad declaration of support.
I looked towards the bar line in the Delphine’s North Astor Street House. Like any good Catholic funeral, the after-party had plenty of food and drink. I observed Danna chatting politely with guests—too politely. Usually the life of the party, Danna played along as the world raced around her. She observed it but did not take part. She usually drove the conversation like a queen at court. Today, she stood in a corner, almost bewildered.
“I worry about her,” Tom said.
“She needs time.”
I wasn’t sure if I said it more for me or the widow’s benefit. David loved the fire in his wife. I knew how much her temper only wound him up. The two liked to argue like old people, but cancer robbed them of spending their golden years together.
“I’m getting more booze,” Mom said.
“I’ll join you,” Tom agreed.
“No, you will keep me on a leash,” Mom clapped back, annoyed.
I stood around awkwardly after their departure until I noticed Kristy hands full with an inconsolable Baby Laurie. I rushed to help her, half-expecting her to fight me.
“Can you hold her?” Kristy asked. “She’s a disaster and wants a binky. It’s in my pocket, but my hands?—”
“I got her.” I took the baby.
Laurie transformed from a tiny potato to a smiling sack of potatoes since I saw her a few weeks ago at a coffee shop. Her eyes brightened, and she blew me a raspberry.
“You’re adorable,” I cooed. “Fucking adorable.”
“And on my last nerve,” Kristy said. “The eulogy was lovely, by the way. You did great.”
“Thanks,” I said as the baby fussed.
“You have to weave back and forth.” Kristy demonstrated. “Alternate with a bounce or two.”
“Good to know.”
When my mother got surprise pregnant with Chloe, I was in college at Northwestern. On weekend visits, I’d play with my baby sister and mostly ignore the worst parts of parenting. Watching Chloe grow was fun, but this was unfiltered babyhood. Kristy didn’t sugarcoat anything.
“I came to pay my respects, but the baby is… complicating matters.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “What if I took her for a walk? You could get some food and a drink and pay your respects?”
“That would be amazing. Here is a binky. Find me if she starts going ballistic,” Kristy said.
She handed me the pacifier, and I plopped it into Laurie’s mouth. The baby happily sucked away as I wandered the halls until I heard a crash from the hallway. David’s study door was cracked slightly. I opened the door to find Daphne on the floor, picking up a stack of books. I stepped in to help.
“I’m an idiot. I meant to move these and… well, here we are.”
She looked up at me, confused.
“Did you have a baby, Cal?”
I laughed. “It’s Kristy’s daughter, not mine. She was overwhelmed, and the baby wanted to take a walk, so we did.”
“God, she’s perfect,” Daphne cooed, standing.
“You’re not an idiot,” I said. “Go, sit. Where do you want them?”
“You cannot pick up books and?—”
“Take the baby.” I sensed it might calm her. “Go. Sit.”
Daphne complied, scooping Laurie up, and sitting by the window. “You can put them just anywhere. These are the ones I want to read.”
I watched her effortlessly bounce the baby before staring again at the collapsed stack.
I held up a book. “You want to read about Soviet jet aircraft?”
She snickered. “Okay, no. It was one of Dad’s faves. If I don’t steal a few things that remind me of him, I never will get that… I dunno… feeling back.”
She played with the baby’s chubby hands. “Do you think my life is a joke?”
“I don’t. Nor do I envy you. The media attention has to be killing you, Daphne. I’m sorry.”
She smiled slightly. “You remember I don’t much care for crying on cue, huh?”
I sat by her. “I am well aware. How are you holding up?”
“I cannot even deal with Dad’s death yet. I am too focused on what is happening with my husband.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“He returned to London—to destroy our house and just about anything in it that reminds me of Dad. So… here we are.”
Confused, I turned. Tears welled in her eyes.
“I’m… I’m sorry?”
“We’re getting divorced,” Daphne said. “I should have seen it coming, but I was the last to know.”
“He asked you for a divorce… right now? While you were in this hellish state?” I asked.
“No. I asked him,” Daphne said. “I’m fucking terrified to know what happens next. But whatever it is, it leads to me being true to myself. I’m scared as hell.”
“But you’ve never been one to run,” I said.
She stared at me, tears running and her face softening. I should have found a tissue, but I needed to communicate she was safe somehow. I brushed her arm affectionately and said precisely what I felt.
“You’re going to be better than ever, Daph. You’re the strongest sort of person. He doesn’t deserve you. And no matter what happens there, it’s all just stuff.”
“It is,” she sniffled, “but right now, stuff is all that is left. And as much as I want to fill that hole and turn back time, I cannot.”
“Well, you will get your Soviet planes.” I sat the books beside her. “Promise.”
“You have your life together. I am so mortified to have you see me like this.”
“Like what? Grieving two losses at once?”
“It’s a mess.”
“Daph, I’m here holding my ex-girlfriend’s baby, trying to escape my mother because she’s so insufferable.”
“Oh my God, join the club!” Daphne laughed through tears. “My mother is quieter than yours, but I sense the judgment.”
I propped a box of tissues on top of the books.
“Thanks.” Daphne wiped her tears. “At least you brought me a baby. A baby makes me happy. Kristy was sweet for coming. Dad liked her.”
“I know. Your parents mean a lot to her. She’s worried about your mom.”
“She’s a good person,” Daphne said. “We need more of them.”
Daphne held the baby close. Laurie babbled and played with another tissue she’d pulled from the box.
“You better move those, or she will shred them all,” Daphne laughed. “I can just see it happening.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed.
Someone knocked.
“Come in,” Daphne called.
Kristy popped her head in. “Oh, there you are. I knew you’d sneak back here. How are you, Daphne?”
“I’m alright,” Daphne said. “Thank you for letting me have a moment with your baby—if only indirectly. She’s a total doll.”
“She’s maniacal, too, but we cannot stay,” Kristy said. “I am so sorry for your loss.”
I transferred the baby to Kristy, and we stared awkwardly at one another.
“Well, good afternoon then,” Kristy said. “And thanks for watching her.”
She ducked out. It was so odd. Kristy wasn’t mine. David wasn’t here. Daphne was a crying mess. The world was upside down.
* * *
Daphne
I appraised a book from the stack by me, feeling the soft blue linen cover. Before I even opened it, I knew its smell. I flashed back to our special trips to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum restoration facility. This book and its tattered, yellowed pages anchored me. I flipped through, taking in the feeling of sitting with my father and talking about MIG engines. I didn’t care about MIGs, but I did care about him .
“I always knew time was precious.” My voice broke. “I just didn’t know how much until it wasn’t just limited… it was gone.”
“It has to hurt. I’m sorry,” Cal said. “Do you need a hug?”
“I think for the first time in forever, yes,” I sniffled.
Human comfort felt good—even coming from someone I didn’t know so well anymore. Cal wrapped his arm around me. He handed me another tissue and sat quietly, taking in my grief. For the first time on this day, I cried tears because I missed Dad.
“I never got to say goodbye properly,” I said.
Cal fed me a line of tissues as I blew my nose, saying. “He knew, Daph. He knew. You were his pride and joy.”
“Was I? I think in the end; he felt sorry for me. I always wonder if he knew Chandler was fooling around with interns.”
“Oof,” Cal groaned. “That is a low blow. I don’t think he did. He worried about you, but that’s how he was.”
“I just wish I could have been here. The way it ended felt so wrong.”
Cal stood and leaned against Dad’s desk. “It was too soon.”
“Not just that, Cal.” My lip quivered. “He told me over Christmas, and I had to fly right home because of a crisis. I felt like I never had time to say goodbye. It still feels like a nightmare. He never got to even see me react in any real way. What if he thought I never cared?”
“He knew, Daphne.”
Cal picked up a Cubs ball. Dad threw the first pitch at a game where we rented nearly half of Wrigley Field.
“This place is a time capsule.” Cal held a silver picture frame with a photo of my parents at Buckingham Palace with the Queen.
“I know. I love this place still.”
“I remember the first time I came here,” Cal said. “I remember meeting all of you—all of you except Dora. I think she might have been in bed at the time.”
I snickered. “She was still so young.”
“This place felt so much bigger then. And it’s not like I’ve grown since then. It just seemed so magical.”
“Why?”
“This house in the city? I never knew people had places like this. No one does. No one could.”
“It’s a lot of work. And now, someone has to manage this place,” I said.
“Are you coming home?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Part of me wants to. Part of me cannot bear it.”
“Things are difficult today, but it will get better.”
I smiled at him slightly. “Will it?”
“I tell myself that every day. I hope someday to believe it, Daphne.”
“What could you possibly be missing, Mr. Mayor?” I asked. “I made myself into nothing more than a wife of a powerful man. I contorted myself to please him and might have lost everything in the process. You, though? You own this town. You’ve built your empire—something to be proud of. I said I’d never give up my ambition, but I did. I am so stupid.”
“The glass is always half-empty.” Cal shrugged. “Every time I see Kristy looking exhausted and run down with a baby in her arms, I feel guilty about it. I have no one to come home to, Daphne. You longed to make it work. I went the other way. Maybe both of us are still just looking for what happens next?”
He sat and squeezed my hand. “Your Dad’s biggest fear for all of you was that he’d leave you, and you’d all fall apart. I promised him that wouldn’t happen. You all have so much love for each other.”
“He wanted me to come back and help. Don’t tell Davey,” I said. “It would make him so jealous. He’s being a prick. Dahlia is still in Paris. Lanie is about to return to LA—probably with your sister.”
“They are bonded.”
“Derrick’s leave pass is up. He has to go back to base. And Dora must return to college. There’s nothing more I can do to hold us together.”
“It’s not all on you. It will work out, Daph,” Cal assured.
“I want to help, but I’m so broken, I’m a liability. I don’t know why Dad would say he wanted me involved.”
“Daphne, I have a secret to tell you,” Cal whispered.
“What is it?”
“Your Dad always thought you should have run the show. He always trusted your opinion most of all. Davey knows that—we all do—and it’s why there’s some tension. I know the two of you can make a good team, though. You can make it work.”
I looked into Cal’s big brown eyes and shook my head. “What happened to me, Cal? That I trust you know my dad more than I did.”
“A man took you far, far away and isolated you. Shit happens. I watched men do it to my mom again and again when I was a kid. But you’re young, beautiful, and going to be okay,” Cal said.
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. For a second, I felt like he might kiss me.
He smiled and stood. “I should get back out there.”
“Sure,” I agreed.
I should have been relieved to be back alone where I felt closest to my dad. Without Cal, it suddenly felt much lonelier. Was he telling the truth? Did Dad want me to have the business? If so, why was I dumb enough to follow Chandler to London forever?