Chapter 6
That night, on the walk home, Danny’s dad calls. Danny almost doesn’t pick up; feels too guilty; answers.
“Hey, buddy,” his dad says. “How are all those dates going?”
When Danny was a teenager, his dad was forever interrogating him about who he liked.
Anyone in any of his classes? Was he going to homecoming?
Would he ask someone to be his date? Danny is aware that it’s a blessing to have a dad who cares about his life.
But what Danny remembers most about these interrogations is the edge of panic in his dad’s voice—the fear that Danny would fall in love and make a new family and never come back.
Now, when he looks around the city—at the thirty-million-dollar homes and the two-dollar pizza slices—he is suffocated by the fear of losing this place: of ruining the company and emptying his bank account and limping back to Montana.
People love to ask Danny if he misses Montana.
Danny cannot imagine missing feeling so alone.
“Nothing to report,” Danny says. “Hey, did you hear Julian’s sister is moving back? She got in some massive car accident. Also something about a cougar? I don’t know, Julian exaggerates.”
“She’s okay, though?”
“Yeah, it sounds like she’s fine.”
“You going to ask her out?”
“Who, Eve?” Danny squints. “I think she just had a big breakup. Also, I don’t know how compatible we are. Like, I love Julian, but I wouldn’t date him.”
“Well. Sure. I mean, as long as it’s not on my account.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Just because of, you know, your mom, Eve’s family, you know. Baggage! Don’t we all have it.”
“That literally didn’t even cross my mind,” Danny says.
“I just thought, maybe, since you used to be so self-conscious going over to their house. Because they have so much money. And you used to worry about that all the time.”
Danny stands on the edge of the curb and waits for the light to change; for the stream of cars to dam. The woman on the sidewalk next to him is wearing an engagement ring the size of a small planet. Danny says, “I don’t really think that way anymore.”