Chapter vi
vi
IT’S AMAZING HOW HUMANS CAN GET LOST IN MEMORIES . A blessing and a curse. I felt like I was back there with Darren, overwhelmed by guilt toward him and grief for you. It was a relief when I was hurtled back into the present by the subway conductor’s voice telling me we were about to stop at Court Street.
As I was walking down my block, I ran into Eva, who lives on the third floor of our house—and who had owned it before I did. “I’m going to get some bread,” she said. “And a new box of Lady Grey tea. Do you need anything, dear?”
Eva had just turned eighty-nine in November. She was an artist, a retired children’s book illustrator, and had sold me her house for a song six years before. She was done taking care of it, she’d said, but wanted to be able to stay. My friend Julia had put us in touch, and I was so grateful that she had, that Eva was in my life, and that I had been able to afford a house to raise my kids in—and then renovate and redecorate until it fit us perfectly.
I shook my head. “We’re good—thank you.”
She nodded and went on her way. Maybe it’s because of her that I thought I might be alone for the rest of my life. Single womanhood looked good on her. But perhaps she and I are different. Or perhaps not. She has told me that deep in her heart there’s someone from her past that she still loves, too. But it’s a story she’s never shared in full. And I’ve respected her secrets and her reasons for keeping them. I know about keeping secrets.
WHEN I GOT INSIDE, I MADE SOME TEA TO WARM myself up and noticed a missed call from my mom. It was both easy and hard not to tell my parents the truth about Sammy all those years ago. Easy because I didn’t have to admit to cheating, but hard because it meant I didn’t have my mom or my dad to lean on. I didn’t realize the wall it would create, that I wouldn’t be able to let them in anymore. At some point, I accepted the shift in our relationship, but my mom never could.
I called her back.
“Hey,” I said when she picked up. “What’s going on?”
“Your dad and I are in the car. I’ll put it on speaker. Say hi, Don.”
“Hi, Lulu,” my dad said.
“Hey, Dad,” I replied. “Where are you off to?”
“Heading over to Jay’s,” my mom said. “The triplets all have different places they need to be tonight, so we thought we’d help him out—and then keep him company.” It was amazing to me that Jay’s kids were seniors in high school now, all planning to head off to different colleges in the fall.
“Where’s Vanessa?” I asked.
The distance that grew between me and my parents was small compared to the gulf between me and Jay. My brother and I used to be so close, but it was impossible to have the kinds of conversations we used to have when there was so much I couldn’t tell him.
“On a work trip,” my mom said. “You should call your brother more.”
I poured my boiling water into a teacup. “I’ll call him,” I said, feeling a pang. “Give him a hug for me. And the kids.”
I sat down at our kitchen counter. How had I become so far removed from Jay’s life that I had no idea when he was home alone with the kids and needed help? I could’ve helped him. I was alone this week and could have been there.
I WRAPPED MY HANDS AROUND MY MUG OF TEA AND thought about secrets. About the address in Italy. I wondered if you’d met someone else and started a family you’d kept secret. Another half brother for our Samuel? Even with my mind swirling the way it was, it didn’t seem likely, but there was so much about your life I didn’t know. I hadn’t known you’d won a World Press photo award.
So after a work call, I googled the address. An apartment building in Rome. I looked up the neighborhood, Esquilino, near Termini Station. It was a neighborhood of immigrants—mostly from North Africa, the Middle East, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and China. My mind started whirring: Was there a story you’d covered there? Is that how you met her? Before I went down the rabbit hole of searching all your photographs for ones in Italy that included a woman, my phone dinged with a reminder about my last Zoom meeting of the day. So I closed the search box but took the address with me.
I knew this wasn’t a secret I was going to be able to leave alone.