Chapter 26 #3
He pressed his hand against the column like he needed to. “You weren’t there,” he said.
It was then I realized: He thought we were talking about Korea, about the petitions. I was so outraged that I laughed, even as I felt a sob rising. He wasn’t thinking about her at all, this child I gave birth to. His child.
“You weren’t there,” he said again.
I stepped toward him, and he stepped back.
He looked afraid, seeing my face. He was right to be afraid.
“I don’t care about the petitions, Leonard.
I’m talking about the baby.” The sob escaped my throat, my words garbled.
But I wasn’t done. I had more to say. For me. For her. I would keep my dignity later.
He started to say something. I shook my head. There was no excuse he could make.
“I don’t love you anymore, either,” I said.
“Believe that.” I imagined fire shooting at my eyes, burning his face, and what was left of his hair.
“If you fell in love with someone else, that’s your prerogative.
That’s fine. But you lied to your parents about me.
Or tried to. Your mother knows I wasn’t lying.
She knows that was your child. She knows you left me to face everything, everything alone. ”
He stepped away from me, his face very still. He looked more afraid than before. I stepped closer.
“That girl can think whatever she wants about you, about me, whatever you tell her. But I know the truth.”
He had nothing to say to that. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, catching at the shiny patch on his brow.
“So you’re damn right I’m different, because she’s still with me.
My daughter.” I slapped my hand against my chest. “And I’ll never get over it.
Never. So you can take your congratulations and go straight to hell.
And I hope your fingers rotted off because of the rot inside you, in your cold heart.
” I stepped away from him, breathing hard.
“Are we clear? Anything else you want to congratulate me on?”
He tugged at his bow tie and raised his hand, a plea for mercy. No, I thought. No. He would get none.
“Nora. Hold on.” He blinked at the grocery bag, then again raised his eyes to mine. “What are you talking about? What child?”
I shook my head. It was beneath him, even him. I was stunned that he would attempt such a lie. “Don’t turn my stomach. Your mother told me you knew. She wouldn’t lie. You’ve known for years.”
“Nora.” He’d freed himself of the bow tie, but he appeared to be struggling to breathe. “Listen to me. This is the first I’m hearing about any baby. What are you saying? This is my child, you’re saying? Ours?”
I believe, to this day, this moment subtracted years from my life. I felt my heart contract in my chest.
“Where is she now? Nora? Where is she? What are you saying?”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe. Behind him, Russ’s truck rolled slowly toward the entrance. I could see him through the windshield, scanning the store windows. I looked back up at Leonard.
“Please step forward,” I whispered. “Please. Get behind the column. Please.”
I had a lot of nerve, asking him for that, asking him for anything at that moment.
But my tone had changed. Leonard seemed dazed, but his eyes moved in the direction of the parking lot, and he seemed to understand.
He stepped toward me, behind the column.
He pressed both hands to the top of his head as if needing to hold it in place.
“Stay where you are,” I whispered. “I’m going to walk away now, and please just stay where you are until I’m gone. Will you do that for me? Please.”
He nodded. I almost apologized. But even then, so early, I understood how meager any apology would seem in comparison to the offense, the offenses. I looked at his hand, the one with the missing fingers, then back up at his stricken face.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I turned and walked out toward the parking lot, my arm raised in a wave.
Russ saw me and braked. I climbed in, staring straight ahead.
I didn’t know if Leonard would stay behind the column.
I couldn’t bear to look. The truck’s radio was still tuned to the game, and the play-in-progress kept Russ’s attention as we rolled forward, braking for shoppers with carts.
I thought of Leonard’s mother on her back patio, holding my hand, telling me I ought to move away.
She’d suggested California. She’d suggested New York.
She’d offered me money. She’d wanted me gone.
An ad came on the radio. Russ lowered the volume and asked me how it went. I told him I didn’t find the candles.
He made a face. “In that big place?”
I said we could just drive over to Nolan’s, if he didn’t mind. He said that was fine, but he gave me a sidelong glance.
“You look like you’re about to faint, honey.”
I wiped my hand across my forehead. “Well,” I said. “It’s hot.”
“Yeah.” He turned a corner, sharp. The tools in the lockbox slid and clinked. “Want to know what I think?”
I waited, holding my breath. We were almost at a stop sign. I could jump out if I had to. Where I’d go after that, I couldn’t guess.
“I think the Publix probably had candles. I think you just got flustered, going in by yourself.” He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie. You tried.”
I didn’t say anything. He started to laugh.
“You’re adorable.” He shook his head, still laughing. “You can’t lie to save your life.”
It turns out he was wrong about that. I’ll get to that as it comes.