“I want Lauren to join us. Make it five if Justin is free. And pick up a bottle of whatever you feel like drinking.”
“What does Lauren drink?” Hans asked.
These days? Water. “Anything. You pick.”
“Sounds like fun,” Hans agreed. “I’ll make that pasta salad that Elsa likes, with the olives in it. She’s a little blue today.”
“She is?” He rubbed his temple, where a headache threatened to develop. “Any idea why?”
“I asked, but she would not say. Even my offer to play Bach duets at twice the normal speed did not cheer her.”
“Shit.”
“You’re coming home, though. She’ll like that. I’ll tell her to finish up the math homework now.”
“Thanks, man. See you soon.” Beacon tossed his duffel bag onto the back seat of a yellow cab and slid in after it. “Willow Street in Brooklyn Heights,” he told the driver.
His next move was to dial Lauren. “Team huddle,” he said when she answered.
“What’s the play, Coach?” she asked immediately.
“Any chance you can come to dinner at my place? I would have asked sooner but this was a plan I hatched at thirty-thousand feet.”
“I could probably make a little room in my busy social calendar.”
“Then I’m honored. Bring a change of clothes, maybe? I’d like to keep you overnight.”
She was quiet a moment. “If you think Elsa’s ready for that.”
“I love that kid so hard, Lo. If she hasn’t figured that out by now, I don’t think another couple weeks of easing her into it is going to help.”
“Okay. If I have to stop at home, it will take me until six thirty to get to your place, though.”
“That’s fine. I’ll light the grill at six.”
“Do you cook other things these days, too?”
“Nope. Just steak and pancakes. Same as always. You’ll have to be the one who teaches the twins to cook.”
“You think you’re so funny. Until the doctor says I’m having twins.”
“Bring it, woman. Now go back to work so I can make you a steak at six thirty.”
They hung up, and just like that he was feeling upbeat again.
? ? ?
The first thing he did upon reaching home was to run up the stairs and knock on Elsa’s door. “Sweetie, I’m home. Can I come in?”
There was no reply.
“Els?” He turned the doorknob. She was sitting in the center of the bed, her index fingers pushed into the corners of her eyes. “Hey—are you okay?”
She nodded, but tears leaked down her face.
“What happened?” He was across the room in three paces, sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“I . . . read Mom’s letter.”
It actually took him a minute to remember what she meant. “Oh,” he said stupidly. That freaking letter. Of course it would make her sad. “I’ll bet she said some nice things.”
“Yeah,” she said, her breath shuddery. “But . . .” She reached under her pillow and pulled it out. She flipped the pages—there were four or five, with Shelly’s handwriting on both sides. Elsa found the one she was looking for and thrust it at him.
This isn’t easy for me to tell you, but I want you to know the truth about why your father and I broke up. I cheated, honey. I went behind your father’s back to have a relationship with Tad. I can’t tell you how much I regret the way I handled it. Deception is never the right way to fix a broken relationship. Maybe my relationship with Daddy wasn’t fixable, but now I’ll never know.
He cursed under his breath.
I’m telling you this because you might hear things that aren’t true. Or you might wonder why Daddy moved out, and he might not be willing to tell you. And—this is the most important thing I have to say—if your father finds someone who treats him better than I did, I hope you can make room in your heart to understand that he deserves that.
Shit.
Elsa leaned into him, crying silently. He passed a hand over his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sure that was hard to read.” On the one hand, he understood why Shelly had felt the need to be honest with her daughter. But maybe it could have waited five years instead of one.
“It’s okay,” Elsa sobbed.
Right. “Would now be a bad time to mention that Lauren is coming over for dinner?”
Elsa snorted and laughed and cried all at the same time.
Mike grabbed a tissue out of the box on her night table and dabbed at her face. “Your mom was a good person, okay? Only a good person can own up to her worst mistakes like that. It was brave of her.”
“I kn-know,” Elsa stuttered. “What did yours say?”
“What?” He grabbed a second tissue because the first one was already trashed.
But when he held it up to her face, Elsa snatched it and mopped up herself. “What did your letter say?”
“I didn’t read it yet.”
“Really? Aren’t you curious? Mine was, like, burning a hole in my desk drawer.”
He sighed. “I’ll read it if you want me to.” Maybe then this whole letter-reading business would just go away.
“Do it.”
Mike got up off his bed and climbed the flight to the master suite. He glanced around his bedroom and noted that the cleaning woman had been by. Good. He wasn’t inviting Lauren to spend the night in a bachelor’s dive. It took him a minute to locate the FedEx envelope and slide the letter out.
By the time he slid his thumb under the flap and tore it open, Elsa was waiting in the doorway, her eyes on him. The note was just two paragraphs long.
Mike—
Your letter is short because I’m not going to bother nagging you to buy organic or to learn to cook something more than pancakes and steak.
He burst out laughing.
“What?” Elsa yelped, scampering over.
He held up a hand to keep her at bay, though, until he’d read the whole thing.
. . . You and I never did things the same way, but I already know you’re a great dad.
I’m sorry if I upset our girl with my letter, but I had to say it now. Because honey—if she waited for you, go get her back. Life is too damn short. The sacrifice you made for me was extreme, and I want you to know I appreciate it. Now go and be happy while there’s still time.
—S
The room went blurry.
“Oh, Daddy! What is it?”
Wordlessly, he passed her the note. When Elsa read the first line, she clapped a hand over her mouth. But then she bit her lip, and the tears started up again. “Oh, man.”
Those were his thoughts exactly.
“She was a good person,” Elsa said, as if to reassure them both.
“That was never in doubt,” he said. “Marriage is hard. Things were complicated with us. It wasn’t all your mom’s fault, either.”
His daughter put her head on his chest and hugged him. “I’m never getting married.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll remind you of this conversation someday.”
“Is Lauren really coming over?”
“She is, sweetie. I invited her.”
“Okay. Then I have to go wash my face and change.”
“Nah. Why?”
“She always looks so freaking perfect. She has the best clothes.”
He chuckled. “Lauren likes to shop, kid. You play your cards right, she’ll take you with her sometime.”