Chapter 12
ETHAN
Near the end of February, I moved my mug to the middle of the kitchen shelf. It looked wrong there. I pushed it back, leaving the space where Claire’s had been.
Since she’d moved out, I’d told anyone cleaning to leave her things alone, as if she might return and complain. Now she’d taken the mug herself.
I opened our messages. The last few were about Nora. Above them was my request to see her before we signed. I remembered her fingertips in my palm, the tears on her face when she gave me her answer.
The screen went dark. I let it.
That afternoon, Nora climbed into the car complaining that her project group ignored her when she told them time was up.
“How do you make people stop, Dad?”
“I didn’t manage to stop all of mine this morning either.”
She sighed as if we shared the same colleagues, then suggested a bell. A quiet one, she said, or the teacher would confiscate it. I promised to find one.
At home, I helped her measure the map her group had drawn. She explained every detail, including the bridge I’d mistaken for a road leading onto a roof. I held the paper still, wishing Claire could hear her too.
After dinner, I took her back to the apartment as agreed. Claire was on the phone when she opened the door. She raised a hand to ask me to wait. Nora changed her shoes on her own and carried the map into her room to find a larger folder.
“She actually read it out loud?” Claire asked, leaning against the little table. Then she bent her head, laughing. “Why didn’t you stop her? I knew there was going to be trouble as soon as I saw that line.”
I stood in the doorway, still holding Nora’s small bag. Claire’s hair was loosely tied back. She wore a green sweater I hadn’t seen before and steadied herself on the table as she laughed. The person on the phone said something else. She shook her head, still laughing.
“Let her choose for herself next time. But I really liked the one she brought today. Yes, leave it on my desk.”
She ended the call, turned, and took the bag from me.
“Sorry. A colleague was telling me about a session.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “Who read what?”
“A new reader. My colleague’s group was discussing love poetry today, and she brought a poem tearing into her ex-boyfriend. The first two lines were quite tender. No one was prepared.”
Claire laughed again as she told me. I laughed too, but a beat late. I didn’t know who the reader was, or why two tender lines had caught her colleague off guard. I hadn’t even known Claire would be at the library that day.
“Were you there today too?”
“I worked the early shift and listened to them for a little while before I left.”
“I thought you only led the group on Wednesday evenings.”
“Wednesday is my session. I work other shifts during the week.”
She put the bag by the door. Suddenly, I didn’t know where to stand. I knew when she would pick up Nora. I knew her new address. But when I tried to picture the places she went every day, the people she laughed with, I knew pitifully little.
Nora called from her bedroom that the folder was big enough. Claire told her to lay the map flat first. I stood nearby, wanting to wait for her to turn back so I could ask another question, afraid I’d already stayed too long.
“Have the times been working out lately?” I asked.
She looked at me. “For pickup and drop-off? Yes.”
“I haven’t let the schedule slip lately.”
Claire’s smile faded. I went on before she could answer. “If anything conflicts in the future, I’ll deal with it ahead of time too. You can make your own plans without worrying.”
“I feel at ease with Nora staying with you now, and that matters a lot to me,” she said. “But I didn’t leave because I needed someone to pick up our daughter.”
The words struck hard enough to tighten my chest.
“I didn’t say you did.”
My voice carried down the hall. Claire glanced toward Nora’s room, then folded her arms.
“I already said the times were working.”
I put my hands in my pockets, then took them out. Someone wheeled something along the hall, the wheels rattling over the tiles. Claire waited. A minute ago she’d been laughing as she told me about the poem. Now she wasn’t volunteering a word.
“I miss you calling me,” I said.
She looked at me.
“Because something happened at work. Because you heard a joke. I want you to want to talk to me the way you were just talking.” I looked down at the bag she’d set beside the door. “I walked in and saw you laughing, and I didn’t know any of it. Who you’d been with. What your day was like.”
She didn’t answer for a moment. I could hear Nora shifting things in her room.
“I’m sorry I snapped.”
Claire slowly lowered her arms.
“You can ask me,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me how much you’ve done first.”
My face burned. I nodded and tried again.
“Do you like working early shifts now?” I asked.
She seemed a little surprised. “I do. There aren’t many people in the morning, so I have time to really help them find books. Getting up can be hard, though.”
“Before it’s light?”
“Especially when it’s raining.”
I knew. When the alarm used to go off, she would bury her face in my pillow and reach out with one hand to find her phone. I almost mentioned it. Then I noticed her work badge by the edge of the table and asked instead whether she still needed much help from her colleagues to move things.
“I can manage most things myself. I still ask for help with the high shelves.” She moved her shoulder. “It’s easy to forget when I’m busy. They all remind me now.”
I nodded, with more questions than before. Her colleagues clearly knew how to work alongside her now. I was still picturing her needing help putting on a coat.
“Claire, would you like to have a simple dinner with me sometime? Just us?”
She looked at me. After a few seconds, she asked, “Is there something we need to discuss?”
“It’s you I want to see. And I’d like to know how you’ve been.”
Once I’d said it, my heart beat even faster. I added, “Not a few bites after picking up Nora. I’m asking you out.”
Her gaze settled on my face for a while. I tried not to say anything else, afraid I’d start telling her anywhere was fine, that I could clear any day, and turn a question into a string of pleas.
“I need to think about it,” she said.
I was a little disappointed. A moment ago, I’d been afraid she would say no outright. Now even her wanting to consider it wasn’t enough for me.
“Okay.” I paused. “Let me know if you’d like to.”
Nora came out of her room with the map finally in its folder and asked when I would find the bell. I crouched to tell her I’d have it before I picked her up next time. She reminded me it mustn’t be too loud. I promised, stood, and said goodbye to Claire.
For days, I checked my phone at every sound. Claire didn’t mention dinner. I bought two bells and put the quieter one in Nora’s backpack. On Wednesday, I helped with her homework while Claire led her group.
After putting our daughter to bed, I washed my mug and set it on the shelf. I wanted to call, but she knew I was waiting. I went to bed with my phone beside the pillow, the sound on.
Two days later, Claire’s name lit up the screen in the afternoon. I’d just finished a call. Before I read the message, I assumed the school had suddenly asked for something.
“Are you free Thursday evening?”
I read it once, then again, before I dared be sure she was answering my invitation. I opened my calendar and checked that evening’s plans, my fingers still unsteady.
“I am,” I replied. “I really want to see you.”