Chapter 17 - A Smaller Life
The formal changes at the club took weeks. Denise ran operations under a new management agreement, with outside review of security and payroll practices. Some employees left. Others stayed. The Blue Hour continued opening on weekends, but the old side entrance was locked except for deliveries and emergencies.
Sal gave statements through his attorney about his own role in business decisions. A police inquiry into the truck incident remained open, and Ben's reimbursement claim was still being negotiated. Neither family announced a victory. Victor hired counsel and stopped managing the club while the review proceeded. Nora didn't confuse quiet with redemption.
There were ordinary losses. Sal sold his second car to cover a short payroll gap after the transition. Malik found work at a hotel loading dock, where he liked the boring routine more than he expected. Ben repaired the truck's heater and kept the scratched door as it was until the damage issue was settled.
One evening Sal called Nora to ask whether Rosie might enjoy a public story hour at the community center the following weekend. He made it clear that he'd stay away if she said no.
Nora put the phone on speaker so Ben could hear.
“She's been asking about you,” she said. “Mostly whether you know any jokes.”
“I know one about a horse.”
“Don't tell it yet.”
Ben snorted at that. Nora smiled despite herself.
They agreed Sal could attend for half an hour, without staff or gifts. He had to come as a guest and leave if Rosie asked him to. Sal repeated the terms without trying to improve them.
When the call ended, Ben sat beside Nora on the couch. “You know you don't have to do this for me.”
“I'm not.”
“You don't have to do it for Rosie either.”
“I know. I want her to be able to ask questions without being scared I'll fall apart.”
Ben took the old drawing from the refrigerator. Rosie had made another one, this time with an open gate. He set the two papers side by side.
“She doesn't need him to be good,” he said. “She needs us to tell the truth about what he is.”
Nora nodded. She still hadn't decided what to call her father in Rosie's story: good, bad, dangerous, sorry. Maybe none was large enough.
At bedtime, Rosie asked if her grandfather could really come to story hour.
“Yes,” Nora said. “If you still want him there.”
Rosie tucked Captain Sunday under one arm. “Can he sit on the little chair?”
“I think it'll be a squeeze.”
May you like
“Good,” Rosie said seriously. “Everybody else has to.”
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