Chapter 5 #2
She could call Aunt Rachel. She’d listen. And she’d be thrilled to hear good news about a date from Nora. It was early, not even nine o’clock yet. But this was worth waking Rachel up for.
It took six rings for Rachel to pick up, and her voice was groggy when she greeted Nora. Nora ignored that. “Rachel, I—I had the most amazing night. It was—don’t laugh, please don’t laugh—it was magical. He was so sweet. I’ve never had someone act like that with me.”
“Good morning to you, too, Nora.” Nora could hear the smile in her voice despite the sarcasm.
“I’m sorry. I know I woke you up. But I had to tell you. I mean, I can’t just keep this to myself. I want to go up on the roof and shout about it.”
Now Rachel laughed. “I think I’m getting the idea. How about you start at the beginning?”
So she did. She told Rachel about hearing Daniel without seeing him in Professor Feinberg’s desktop publishing lab, and joking with him still without seeing him in Ellis Hall, and him asking her out, and—almost—every detail of last night and this morning.
“Writing your number on his hand was a nice touch. He won’t forget that.” There was a pause. “I assume you don’t want him to forget. You’re planning on seeing him again?”
“Yes!” She kept her voice barely below a shout. She wasn’t sure how she managed it.
“You deserve somebody great. I’m so happy for you that last night was special.” There was a pause. What was Rachel hesitating about? She’d just said she was happy for her, but she didn’t sound happy. “You sound—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say it.”
What the heck did that mean? “Rachel, whatever you’re thinking, tell me! You’ve always told me the truth, even if you didn’t think I wanted to hear it.”
But what could be wrong with anything about last night? What problem could Rachel possibly be seeing with it?
“I’m probably wrong, so don’t pay any attention to this. But you sound a lot like your father did when he met Karen. I was little, six or seven, but I remember it clearly, because I’d never seen him that happy before.”
“What? You’re comparing—you’re saying—Dad and Mom?”
Obviously Rachel was wrong. Like she’d just said, she was only a little kid.
On the other hand, Nora knew that her father had still been living at home right up until he’d married her mother, so Rachel would have seen him every day of her whole life, and even a little kid can tell when her big brother is happy or sad.
“He said she was magical, that she was the most wonderful girl he’d ever met. He sounded just like you did a minute ago.”
Rachel didn’t need to say anything more; Nora knew the rest of the story.
Her mother was pregnant four months later, they’d gotten married two months after that, the fights began shortly after she herself was born, and there wasn’t a week that went by without a screaming match that shook the paper-thin walls, from Nora’s earliest memories to the vicious divorce eleven years later.
That’s what her aunt took away from Nora sharing the best night she could remember ever having? Her room felt darker, colder, as though the sky had suddenly clouded over. Maybe it was just in her head. Or her heart.
Nora must have told it wrong, or left out some important detail so Rachel didn’t understand.
Or maybe Rachel was jealous—she was still single, wasn’t she?
Never had a serious boyfriend as far as Nora knew.
Maybe she’d never had a properly magical night of her own and she couldn’t stand to hear about one from her niece.
Or maybe there was some other reason, but Nora didn’t care to know what it might be. “I’ve got to run, I think I hear my roommate,” she said in a flat, careless tone. “And I’ve got to call my father anyway. I’ll talk to you next week.” And she hung up before Rachel could say anything more.
Daniel , the same time
Daniel walked back to West Hall, to find three of his dorm-mates sitting in the lobby. Fred Phillips, four doors down from him, greeted him with, “I heard someone got lucky last night.”
Jeannette Morgan, sitting across from him on the ratty old sofa, glared at him. “God, what are you, a caveman? And you wonder why you’re always alone and bored on Friday nights.”
Daniel paused. Before yesterday, he’d probably have run up the stairs taking them three at a time, to get away from this conversation.
Not today. “You’re half right, Fred.” Fred and Jeannette and Bill Thompson, upstairs from him and two doors over, all stared at him in surprise.
“I am lucky. I met somebody amazing, and she acted like she saw me the way I really, really hope I actually am.” It felt good to say it.
It felt even better to want to say it. “Oh, and, Jeannette, I guess I owe you thanks for borrowing your iron. She definitely noticed the effort.”
“You sound like a Hallmark card, Keller. I never thought I’d see you go all sappy,” Fred said. Daniel figured he was mostly joking. But Jeannette threw a cushion at him anyway.
“It’s not sappy, it’s acting like an adult, Fred. Maybe you could learn from it.” Then she turned to Daniel. “You’re welcome, by the way. I’m glad it was for a good cause.”
He grinned at her, and headed upstairs. He couldn’t deny that it was good for his ego, but there was a thin line between confidence and arrogance and he didn’t want to cross it. Not now. Not with her . Besides, there was only one person he wanted to talk to right now.
When he unlocked his room, the phone was ringing, and it was just that person on the other end of the line. “Daniel? I hope I’m not interrupting anything. But I’m sure you have enough sense not to answer the phone if there was anything to interrupt. Please tell me I’m right.”
“Good morning to you, too, Bee.” He laughed. “I actually just this second came back from walking her home.”
He heard the sound of clapping on the line. “Very gallant! I’m impressed. My little Daniel, all grown up and acting like a gentleman, who would ever have thought?”
“You thought. You kept telling me, and—well, you were right.” She had told him, over and over. “It was—God, it was amazing. She was amazing. She was so… I don’t even know. So—everything.”
“I want to know,” Bianca said. “Tell me everything. Well, almost everything. Keep it PG, if you don’t mind.
And don’t roll your eyes at me!” She knew him too well.
“I know you haven’t forgiven me for going on and on about Paolo that one time, but in my defense I was very drunk and he was very handsome.
” She’d shown him a Polaroid of Paolo at Thanksgiving a couple of months after her trip to Italy, and he couldn’t really argue.
“Strictly PG, I promise.” He proceeded to recap the night and the morning for her, omitting the most physical details, but not skipping the part about how little he’d known, and how sweet she’d been about it.
“That girl…”
“Nora.”
“Nora really must have been something. I’m so thrilled for you.
You deserve this, Danny.” There was a lengthy pause.
He couldn’t guess what she was hesitating to say.
“Just—trust me, you know I’ve been there.
Take it one step at a time. One date at a time.
Don’t get ahead of yourself. You know we both do that.
Enjoy every minute with her, and if it’s going to be more, then it will be, but let that happen in its own time.
Remember how I scared Alex off?” That had been a year ago, last October.
He’d missed the dorm Halloween party talking to Bee for probably three hours.
“Don’t do that. Please, just enjoy this and let the future take care of itself. Promise me, Danny.”
He hadn’t been thinking ahead—not yet, anyway. But he had to be honest with himself, those thoughts would have started bubbling up by this afternoon. “I promise, Bee. But you might have to remind me every so often.”
“You know I will, Danny. Now go get yourself some breakfast. Love you!”
Nora , a half hour later
What the hell was wrong with Rachel?
No. What was wrong with her ? Why had she snapped at someone who had never been anything but good to her, never lied to her? Someone who was the closest thing to a confidant she’d ever had.
It wasn’t as though Rachel had said anything she didn’t know, even if she’d never really given it much thought. Why would she have? Nobody sat there and dwelled on what their parents were like when they were dating, right? That was weird.
Rachel had even told her on occasion that she had her father’s temperament—and temper. Always when she’d needed to hear it, too. Without her aunt’s words, she probably would have gotten herself expelled from high school half a dozen times.
Or worse than expelled. Rachel had talked her down the last week of sophomore year, after she’d learned that Eileen Renfro was the one who’d broken into her locker and stolen the locket Bill Jenkins had given her.
She had been so angry—even now, more than two years later, she could feel her heartbeat spiking just thinking about Eileen—and Rachel had kept her from doing something she would have regretted.
Most of the time, it was wonderful to have someone who knew you that well, and would be honest with you no matter what. Every once in a while, though, it really sucked.
Rachel meant well, and she was much too perceptive. But that didn’t mean she was infallible.
Yes, Nora shared some traits with her father.
Yes, she wore her heart on her sleeve.
Yes, she sometimes—often—acted before she thought.
But she wasn’t her father’s clone. She was herself. And just because her father blew up his marriage—with plenty of help from her mother—that didn’t mean that she was doomed to follow in his footsteps.
She’d call Rachel back later and apologize for being so rude and horrible, and that would be the end of it. She wouldn’t plead her case, because there was nothing to plead, was there? Rachel had made an observation, and it was wrong, and in time she’d see that. What else needed to be said?
Now, though, it was almost ten o’clock and her father was probably wondering what was up with her.
Sure enough, the phone rang just as she put a hand on it to pick it up and call him. “Morning, Pumpkin.”
Nora didn’t really like his nickname for her. It had barely been cute when she was in kindergarten. But she always smiled at it anyway. At least he was trying. That counted for something. “Hi, Dad. Sorry I didn’t call you, I overslept this morning.”
He laughed, more than her words deserved. That was something else that hadn’t ever really been cute. “Working too hard?”
For an instant, she debated actually telling him about Daniel, about—with a lot of editing—last night.
She didn’t like how little her father really knew her.
Maybe it was on her to bridge the gap and tell him something real.
Something that for once he’d actually understand since he’d lived it himself, too.
Then she ran quickly through the many, many ways that conversation could—probably would—go horribly wrong and leave her feeling guilty or angry or depressed or flat-out hopeless. Or most likely all of them at once.
“Well, I am.” It was even true. She’d worked far harder this semester than she ever had in high school. And—to her surprise—she’d enjoyed the work.
“But I had dinner with a friend last night, and we stayed up late talking. You know how that is.” That was also, technically, true, despite being completely dishonest.
She had become very skilled at that sort of lying truth-telling with her parents. And all her high school teachers and classmates. And her roommate here, too.
And she hated that about herself.
She swore then, even as she kept on lying to her father with misdirected truths, that she would never, ever, ever do that with Daniel.