Chapter 12 - The School Roof
Emily’s class held astronomy night on the school roof in early November.
Parents were invited.
Grace invited Daniel.
Emily invited Vincent.
Grace found out after the invitation had already been delivered in person at the diner.
She stared at her daughter.
“You invited Mr. Romano?”
“He likes stars now.”
Vincent, who was at the next booth, said, “Apparently.”
Grace rubbed her forehead.
“Emily.”
“What?”
Daniel was coming.
Vincent knew.
Daniel knew Vincent might be there.
No one had objected.
That worried Grace more than objections.
At seven, the school roof filled with folding tables, poster boards, cheap telescopes, and children running between adults who pretended not to be cold.
Daniel arrived with a thermos.
Vincent arrived alone.
Almost.
Marco waited downstairs.
Grace could live with that.
Emily’s project was about Jupiter.
She had drawn the planet too large and the moons too close together.
She was proud.
Daniel read every sentence.
Vincent read every sentence.
Neither corrected anything.
Progress.
Then a father from another class recognized Vincent.
His expression changed.
He pulled his son closer.
Grace saw it.
Vincent saw it too.
Emily did not.
Vincent stepped back from the crowd.
Grace followed.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t look okay.”
“I am on an elementary school roof at night. This is not my natural environment.”
She smiled.
“People know you.”
“Yes.”
“Does that bother you?”
He looked at the city lights.
“Sometimes I forget that Emily knowing me as the man with cold coffee does not erase what other people know.”
Grace said nothing.
Vincent continued.
“I don’t want her paying for being comfortable around me.”
That was the kind of sentence Grace did not expect from him.
“What do you want to do?”
He glanced toward Emily.
“Leave.”
Grace nodded.
He did.
No announcement.
No goodbye that made Emily follow.
He simply told her he had work and went downstairs.
Emily watched him leave.
Daniel came beside Grace.
“That was probably the right choice.”
Grace looked at him.
“You sound surprised.”
“I am.”
“So am I.”
Daniel smiled.
Then Emily called them over to the telescope.
The moon was bright.
They took turns.
Daniel adjusted the focus for Emily.
She slapped his hand away.
“I know.”
He stepped back.
Grace saw him smile.
Later, as families packed up, Daniel carried two folding chairs downstairs.
Emily walked beside him.
Grace followed.
At the first-floor hallway, Emily stopped.
“Dad?”
Daniel turned.
“Yeah?”
“Are you going away again?”
The question came without warning.
Daniel set down the chairs.
“No.”
Emily stared.
Grace wanted to intervene.
She did not.
Daniel crouched.
“I might travel. I might be late again even though I’m trying not to. I might mess up.”
Emily’s mouth tightened.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Daniel nodded.
“No. I am not leaving because I’m scared.”
Emily looked at him.
“You promise?”
Daniel hesitated.
Grace’s chest tightened.
Promises had been dangerous in this family.
Daniel said, “I promise I will not disappear without telling you.”
Emily thought.
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
She picked up one chair.
Daniel started to take it.
Emily said, “I can carry it.”
He let go.
Grace nearly laughed.
The child was raising both men.
Outside, the air had turned sharp.
Daniel loaded the chairs into a school van.
Emily climbed into Grace’s car.
Before Grace followed, Daniel said, “Vincent left early.”
“Yes.”
“Because of me?”
“No.”
Daniel looked toward the street.
“Good.”
Grace waited.
He said, “I used to think if he was gone, everything would be different.”
“Would it?”
“Some things.”
He looked at her.
“But I still would have been me.”
Grace nodded.
That was probably the closest either of them would come to closing the past.
Two days after astronomy night, Daniel called Emily directly at the agreed time.
Grace sat on the couch reading while Emily paced the living room.
“Do you want me at your school concert?” Daniel asked through the speaker.
Emily stopped walking.
“You know about it?”
“I have the calendar now.”
Grace looked up.
Emily noticed.
“Mom gave it to you?”
“Part of it.”
Emily thought for a moment.
“You can come.”
“Okay.”
“But don’t sit in the front row.”
Daniel laughed.
“Why?”
“Because parents in the front row take too many pictures.”
“I can sit in the middle.”
“Good.”
After the call, Emily looked at Grace.
“He asked.”
“Yes.”
“That’s better.”
Grace returned to her book.
It was.
The improvement was almost boring.
Grace had spent so long bracing for dramatic harm that she had forgotten healthy behavior often looked like somebody asking where to sit, waiting for the answer, and accepting that the answer might not be the one they wanted.
At home, Emily put the telescope by the west window.
The jar sat on the sill.
Thirty-eight dollars and eight cents.
She had added two quarters from somewhere.
Grace noticed.
“Where’d you get fifty cents?”
“Sidewalk.”
“Of course.”
Emily grinned.
Then Grace’s phone rang.
Daniel.
She answered.
“You just left.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Grace waited.
“I wanted to ask before I did something.”
She sat down.
This was new.
“What?”
“I’m going to be in Chicago more permanently starting January. I found an apartment. Not close to you. Not on purpose.”
Grace laughed.
“Good clarification.”
“I want to request one overnight visit a month eventually. Not now. Eventually. I want to talk to Dr. Patel and you before I ask Emily.”
Grace was quiet.
Daniel continued.
“If the answer is no, I’ll wait.”
Grace looked at Emily adjusting the telescope.
“Talk to Dr. Patel.”
Daniel exhaled.
“Okay.”
“That is not a yes.”
“I know.”
Grace smiled.
“Good night, Daniel.”
“Good night.”
She hung up.
Emily looked over.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s suspicious.”
Grace walked to the window.
“Your dad asked before making a plan.”
Emily blinked.
“Is he sick?”
Grace laughed so hard she had to sit down.
Emily laughed too without knowing why.
The jar rattled when she bumped the sill.
Coins against glass.
Once, that sound had meant emergency.
Now it sounded like something else.
Not security.
May you like
Not rescue.
Just a child saving money because she wanted to.
