“Fuck.” Kerry sat up in the bed. “There is no way he would come all this way to pull a stunt like the last time.”
“Agreed. I have to see him. I told him I would.”
Kerry reached up and pulled Suzanne’s head down, kissing the top of her head.
“This is why I love you so much. You are so forgiving. I would never be like you.”
Suzanne pulled away. “Yes, you would. Even if you would never admit it. Which is why I love you.”
“And my tits?”
“Be serious…And your tits. Though I prefer the left one. Or is it the right?”
Now Kerry was reminding the other to behave and be serious.
Suzanne plopped on the bed when Kerry gave her room.
“He is your father, and he did believe what he did was right.”
“I know that.”
They were silent.
“I don’t think he should come to the house until I see him.”
“Agreed. And don’t tell anyone. Where can he meet you in town?”
“There are benches on the train platform,” Suzanne said. She looked at Kerry. “The one where you waited for me that wonderful morning when you stopped being so damn stubborn.”
“Me? You called me, remember.”
“Yeah. Because you were too stubborn to do anything about it.”
“Well, appropriate as it might be, I can’t see your father sitting alone on a train platform like Forest Gump waiting for his daughter.”
“Fair enough,” Suzanne said. “It’s not too cold and he should not sit inside anyway. He can sit across from the Starbucks.”
“Are you sure?”
“I wasn’t quite sure when you had me meet my mother but I’ve never forgotten it or you telling me she could take the next train to the city and be out of my life forever. I can still hear that ‘for-ev-er.'”
“That was pretty dramatic, if I do say so myself.”
“Yeah, but it worked. With my father, he knows my terms. He wouldn’t have come unless he agreed to them.”
With that Suzanne rose.
“Should I go with you?” Kerry asked.
“This time, love, it will be just him and me.”
Kerry got out of bed and stood behind Suzanne. She put her arms around her waist.
“I am so lucky to have you.”
“We are lucky to have each other,” Suzanne said, as she often did. “I so hope this works. And whatever happens from here happens from here.”
She turned.
“Now, let me tell him.”
* * *
William clutched the phone.
“Is everything all right, sir?” the cabbie asked.
“Couldn’t be better. Could not be better. I’ve never been there before. I’m told there’s a Starbucks.”
“Beats me. It doesn’t look like a big place. Someone’ll tell us.”
Waze directed them to the middle of town. It was, in fact, not a big place. It was five minutes before Suzanne was due, and William jumped out to ask where the Starbucks was. When he was told, he leaned into the cab.
“It’s just around the corner here. I’ll walk. What do I owe you?”
The cabbie rang it up, and William gave him a hundred.
“Keep it.”
“Thank you very much. Have a very good day, sir.”
“I hope to,” he told the cabbie as he started to walk. Then, to himself, “I hope so.
As he approached Starbucks, William saw the benches. He got his usual concoction and sat on the one to the left in the sun. It was a nice little town, and he knew its reputation as being not unlike Mill Valley in its affluence. He wondered if he could tolerate the snow, though there had been virtually none in the winter that was soon to end.
His thoughts were diversions, crowding out the only thing that mattered. Suzanne.
He wondered half-seriously whether she would recognize him. He was in gray slacks, an open-necked shirt, and a blue blazer. Suzanne used to tease him that he always looked like he just addressed the U. N. General Assembly when he was in “serious mode.” She once took a pair of scissors to a Hermès tie—it was light blue and one of his favorites—when they sat at a restaurant in the city to celebrate her twenty-first birthday. Kate looked shocked at that and Eric looked amused.
If she were home and up when he was heading out to catch the train, Suzanne invariably tried to muss his hair, and he loved the brief contact they had on those mornings although he always retained the facade of a gulf between father and child much as his parents had with him and his sister. Kate was the same. In retrospect, it seemed cruel.
William wondered whether if she came she would comment that his hair was slightly longer than it had ever been. At least since law school. He wondered whether she would soon have a baby and he would be a grandfather. He wondered about a thousand things as he waited. As he had countless times when he allowed his mind to wander and be free.
He did not dare look at his watch. Instead, he took sips of his coffee. He did not know the direction from which she would come. He did not know what kind of car she drove or even if she would drive. His head was in constant motion when he was not drinking, praying for a glimpse of her.
Would he recognize her? Then his doubts vanished. He again held his breath for a moment. He did not quite see the details of her face but recognized the stride with which he was so familiar. A determined yet relaxed stride as she walked directly towards him. Her dark-brown hair bouncing ever so slightly with each step.
Then he saw the face framed by the hair. Perhaps he saw a smile. He could not be sure.
She paused, but it was barely perceptible. As he stood, she rushed to him.