Chapter 14
Final weeks of the spring semester—Albion College
Nora was in the middle of rereading—for the third or fourth time—this week’s assignment for Mass Media Nora recognized nervous babbling when she heard it; she did it often enough herself. “I think…”
What did she think? What would make her father suddenly act weird?
Joelle didn’t need to say it. It was the same thing that always made her father act weird. He fell in love, then after a few weeks or a few months something broke. He broke.
She didn’t know why, but she’d seen it enough times.
It had happened, obviously, with her mother.
The weirdness had started long before Nora was old enough to even see it.
If her mother hadn’t gotten pregnant, they would probably have split up within a year.
And it had happened with Grace, and Ellen, and Tabitha.
Those were just the ones she knew about. There were probably more.
But should she tell Joelle? Was it better to tell her what was coming, or wait for Dad to break her heart by surprise?
She couldn’t do that to Dad. There was always a chance, however slim, that this time would be different.
Right? “I haven’t talked to him in a few days, Joelle.
I don’t know anything.” There she went again, telling a truth that was a complete lie.
“I think you should talk to him. Be honest with him.” That was a laugh, coming from her.
“I guess you’re right. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m just too nervous. Thanks so much, Nora, I appreciate you listening to me.”
After Joelle hung up, Nora wondered if she should have just told Joelle the truth after all—Dad was going to rip her heart out. Just like he always did. Just like her mother did, too. Even Aunt Rachel had done it, when she freaked out after her last boyfriend proposed to her.
Oh, God. Everyone in her family broke the hearts of the people they loved. Every single time.
She sat down heavily on her bed and stared hard at her reflection, asking it if she was doomed to do it to Daniel, too. The girl in the mirror didn’t speak, but Nora was afraid she knew the answer anyway.
Daniel , April 8
The last time Daniel had been summoned to Professor Maddox’s office, it had been to praise him and offer him a job. He doubted it would be nearly as pleasant this time. He walked up to the fourth floor of Ellis Hall, steeling himself for the criticism—or worse—that was about to come his way.
But when he got there, his advisor was—well, not quite smiling, but close to it. “Close the door, please, Mr. Keller.” Daniel did so, and then took a seat across from Professor Maddox. As always, the man’s desk was perfectly neat; exactly the way Daniel liked to keep his own.
“Thank you. I assume you know why I asked to speak with you, Mr. Keller?”
Right to the point. His advisor wouldn’t appreciate him trying to sugarcoat things. “I haven’t been doing as well this semester,” he said. But that wasn’t all of it. “And I’ve been distracted in class and I’ve missed some shifts in the lab.”
Professor Maddox nodded. “Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Keller.” There was a pause. “Daniel.” He’d never called Daniel by his first name before. What did that mean?
“I’m very sorry, sir.”
“I already know that. I wouldn’t have asked you here if I thought otherwise. What I want to talk about is why, although I’m virtually certain I know. If I may ask, what is the young lady’s name?”
What? What was he talking about? Why would he think—how would he know?
“Daniel, please. I know students like to think that their elders were never young themselves. I assure you, I was your age once, and I had the same feelings you are having now.”
“Sir, I—I’m not sure what…”
Now Professor Maddox did smile, for real. “For this conversation, you can dispense with the sir and the Professor and call me Scott. We are talking man to man here, not teacher to student. It’s only appropriate.”
“Sir—Scott.” It felt wrong to call him by his first name, even if he’d been told to do it. “You’re right. I’ve been—I love her. Her name is Nora. And most of the time, she’s all I think about. All I can think about.”
It was beyond weird to tell this to a professor. But the man had already guessed, denying it would only be stupid. And kind of cowardly, too.
“Let me tell you a little story. It’s about a shy, somewhat sheltered twenty-one year old student called Scott, and a beautiful, vivacious redhead named Emma.
This was the spring of 1962, before the Beatles hit it big.
” Now he actually did smile; Daniel didn’t know the man’s face could do that.
“As an aside, if you ask me who the Beatles are, I will make it my mission to have you expelled.” Daniel laughed, but he didn’t add that his parents both preferred the Rolling Stones.
“Anyway, as I was saying. It was the spring of 1962, and I fell head over heels in love with Emma. I had never felt anything like it before. I hadn’t known I could feel it. ”
“That’s exactly how it is with Nora.”
His advisor nodded. “I thought so. Things between us were—I assume you can imagine. Until one night in April, when Emma came to my apartment in a panic. She was afraid she was pregnant.”
Daniel hadn’t once thought about that with Nora.
Except he had, hadn’t he? Over Christmas, the idea had popped into his head out of nowhere. But not the way his professor was talking about. He and Nora hadn’t had that kind of scare; they’d always been careful.
But now he wondered, what would he do if it happened anyway? Careful wasn’t always enough. Accidents happened.
“What did you do?”
Professor Maddox—Scott—sighed. “Nothing, as it turned out. It was a false alarm. But it scared both of us. Myself more than her, to tell the truth. I thought long and hard about what I would have done if it had gone the other way.” He was lost in thought for a minute, and Daniel didn’t dare interrupt.
“If it had, I would have dropped out of school, and gotten whatever job I could, to support her and the baby. I’d have married her, if she would’ve had me. And it would have ended in disaster.”
He couldn’t believe his advisor was telling him all this. He’d never had any adult talk this personally, or this frankly, to him. “Why a disaster?”
“Because, Daniel, like you, I am a man who cannot do anything but give my full effort to the things that are important to me. I could not have supported Emma and a baby as a student, and I would not have stood for her working while she was pregnant.” Daniel just stared blankly at that, and his professor nodded.
“It was a different time. It did not help that she was on poor terms with her parents, and they would not have supported her having a baby. My own parents would have given moral support, but that’s all they had. ”
“But she wasn’t pregnant.”
“She could have been. And it could have happened again. Without being indelicate, I doubt you could simply cut out the physical aspect of your relationship with Nora, any more than I could have with Emma.” No. He was absolutely right.
“But you could have gone back to school, once the baby was three or four, couldn’t you?”
“As I said, it was a different time. Perhaps if it had been a decade later, or even five years, that might have been possible. But as it was, I knew I would give up my education for her. And—perhaps it would have taken a few years, or only a few months, but I would have come to resent her, and the child, for what I had given up. I could not do that to Emma. And I knew what I had to do. Better to break her heart then and there, and mine, cleanly and quickly, than to come to hate her, and she me, for years to come.”
Was he suggesting what Daniel thought he was? That it wasn’t enough just to love someone? That you could love someone completely and still have to walk away? “You’re not telling me to break up with Nora?”
His advisor shook his head. “I am not telling you anything. Except that you do have a choice to make. You love this girl, it’s plain as day.
You cannot do less than commit completely to her.
It’s in your nature, and that is to be commended.
But you are also committed to your education, and the last six weeks notwithstanding, you have been an exemplary student and a tireless worker.
So we come to a fork in the road. To quote a movie I’m sure you have seen a dozen times, ‘Do, or do not. There is no try.’ It is not me telling you that a choice is required.
It is your heart, and I think you know it. ”
“That’s a lot to think about, Scott.” And yet, he knew already that the man was right. Daniel hadn’t ever thought about it in those terms but there was no way to deny it.