The Beginning of After

Chapter Thirty-five



He’s awake,” said Etta. “Just this morning.” Her voice was tight but breathy, and for two seconds I had no idea what she was talking about. She took my silence as an okay to keep talking. “He’s been showing signs for several days, but they said not to get our hopes up, so I stayed in Florida. My husband, Jack, has had pneumonia and can’t even travel to see our son.”

“Mr. Kaufman,” I said dumbly. Finally figuring it out.

“Yes, honey! Awake!” Her voice stumbled now. “He’s only halfway there, if you know what I mean. But we’ll take it.”

“Has anyone seen him yet?”

“No, there hasn’t been anyone. Laurel, I need your help. I need to reach David. Do you know where he is?”

“Where he is?” I echoed, thinking about David eating chicken and waffles somewhere in the Midwest.

“I thought you might know, since he stayed with you that time. I tried some of his friends, but they haven’t heard from him.”

Etta started to break down, and I heard her sniffle.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said. “I can help you.”


David—





Your dad is awake. Please call your grandmother ASAP.





Laurel





I had thought about adding “It’s amazing” or “Let me know what happens,” but it felt like none of my business anymore. I had been asked to relay a message, so I did that. I had no rights to anything else.

After I sent the email, I stayed near the computer. Maybe he was still online somewhere and would get it right away, then write back. I refreshed my in-box every minute or so, but there was nothing. Finally, Nana came up behind me and put her hands on my shoulders.

“It’s a miracle,” she said. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah. A Christmas miracle. Too bad he’s Jewish.”

“I know it’s hard, sweetie, but all we can do is wait to hear more.”

David was getting his father back. Who knew what version of that father it would be, but still. He was alive. It made my stomach churn.

“Maybe he’ll remember what happened,” I said.

“Maybe. But I’m not sure that information is going to help anyone.”

I closed out my email, promising myself not to check it again until the next day. I was going to be busy until then, and maybe busy beyond that, if I planned carefully. I didn’t have to think about David traveling toward us. I didn’t have to think about Mr. Kaufman being awake and David having his father back, and I didn’t have to think about how that made me feel.

I found my phone and sent a text to Joe.

city 2mrw? goin stir craZ alrdy.

His reply—yes! call l8r to talk—came back within seconds.


“You’ve got to be frigging kidding me,” said Meg when I called her in Philadelphia. “Was that supposed to happen?”

“Who knows,” I said. “But it did.” I was at work, walking three of the six dogs who were boarding for the holidays. It was frigidly cold but we were moving fast, and I could feel my body warming up.

“You think he’s going to be pissed that they sold his house?” asked Meg.

I laughed a little. “Probably. But he was in pretty bad shape. I don’t think he’s going to be hitting the golf course anytime soon.”

I sent a mental thank-you to Meg for forcing me to be shallow again, for bringing me up out of the deep, deep seriousness of it all.

“Keep me posted,” she said. “I’m stuck here until tomorrow, then we drive back.”

“How’s your mom?”

“Would you believe me if I said she actually seems happier? I mean, of course it’s Christmas and she’s been dipping into the spiced rum, but I think the whole thing is a relief. It’s been coming for so long.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. All I could think was, And you couldn’t tell me, even before the accident. Why couldn’t you tell me? But I didn’t feel like going further with it. It only took me backward, and today I was all about forward motion.

“I’m glad, Meg. I’m so totally glad.” I paused. “I’m going to the city with Joe tomorrow.”

I could almost hear her smile. “Car or train?”

“Train.”

“Niiiiice. Romantic.”

“Does this mean we’re officially dating now?”

“Uh-huh,” she said.

“I’ll hold you to that. Will call you for a debriefing tomorrow night.”


Joe called me early the next morning. We were supposed to meet at the station for the 10:46 train to Grand Central.

“Laurel, I think we’re going to have to reschedule our trip. I have the flu. I’m so pissed.”

His voice was froggy, and it didn’t sound like he was faking. I believed the pissed part.

“That’s a huge bummer,” I said.

“It is. I was really looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

“But there’s another week of break, and the decorations will be up until then. I’ll call you as soon as I’m better. It shouldn’t be more than a few days.”

“Okay. I’ll be around.” Another of our awkward pauses. “Get well soon.”

“Thanks, Hallmark.”

After we hung up, I went back to bed, staring at the City with Joe outfit I’d picked and laid out the night before: jeans, boots, black turtleneck sweater. And all I could think was, should I check my email now or wait until the clock hits nine?

Screw it, I thought. I’ll go check email now.

I tiptoed into the den, not wanting Nana to hear me and know what I was doing.

But there was nothing in my in-box.


The next two days passed slowly. I finished the rest of my applications—to NYU, Columbia, Cornell, and Smith—and submitted them with time to spare. Meg came back. We made one giant ice cream sundae at her house to celebrate her telling her dad that she thought he was an emotional shut-in with no idea how to love somebody, and she was glad she didn’t have to see him anymore.

“It was the best silence on the other end of a phone call I’ve ever heard,” said Meg, licking chocolate syrup off her spoon.

I let my spoon clink against hers in quiet solidarity as we dug for ice cream, and I knew she thought the fact that we were both dad-less, me for good and her for all intents and purposes for the time being, would bring us closer. I wasn’t planning to correct her. There would always be a difference in our losses.

“I think I’m going to go back to the Palisades Oaks,” I said.

“Why?” Meg frowned.

“Nobody’s calling us, and I feel like I need to be there. If David doesn’t go see him, somebody else besides Etta should go.”

“Laurel, you’re just the neighbors’ daughter. . . .”

“Whose family he may have killed,” I added, and that shut her down. I reached out and put my hand on her spooning elbow. “I just want to talk to him.”

Now if only I could convince Nana.

When I got home, I was all prepared for the big talk, the arguments and the pleading. I was so focused on it that I almost didn’t notice the thing in the hallway until I tripped on it.

A gigantic backpack.

The kitchen smelled of spaghetti sauce cooking, but instead of following that smell, I tracked the sound of the TV from the den. It wasn’t like anything I’d heard in a long time.

I stood in the doorway and saw the video game on the screen, listened to the whoops and blips and dings of it. The gaming chair rocked a bit, with Masher lying along one side.

I actually gulped, and then said, “Hi, David.”

He swiveled Toby’s chair toward me and smiled a crooked smile. He’d gotten a haircut.

“Hey, stranger.”