Ripple Effects

by Greene, L. J.

  But as much as I might want that, I know the burden is his alone. Regret is lonely business. And we each have to find a way to carry our own, such that it doesn’t break us.

  “I love you, Danny.” It’s the best I can do.

  He meets my gaze with a steady eye. Then a small smile forms at the edges of his beautiful mouth, and he leans over and presses a gentle kiss to my lips. His eyes are soft and unguarded, teeming with unnamed emotion.

  “What man could want for more than that?”

  Chapter 16

  Sarah

  DANNY’S SISTER, CASEY HANSON, COMES for a visit in early October. She and Danny are obviously close, but living on opposite coasts, they don’t see each other very often.

  Danny heads home to meet her right after work, but I’m back in school and don’t finish classes until 5:30. By the time I arrive, they’re sitting at the barstools in the kitchen having a glass of wine. Danny smiles warmly when I walk in, taking my backpack, and giving me a quick kiss. Then, he introduces me to his sister.

  As you might expect, Danny’s sister is beautiful. There is definitely a family resemblance in their facial structure and features, but her coloring is completely different. Casey is tall, probably around my height. Her hair is darker than Danny’s, and she has brown eyes. She’s dressed impeccably in grey slacks and a stylish ivory jacket, and she’s wearing a stunning long silver necklace over a shimmering ivory camisole. On her right wrist is a collection of expensive-looking bangles, and on her ring finger is the largest diamond I’ve ever seen. I definitely feel underdressed, and frankly a little self-conscious, in my jeans and peasant top.

  But Casey quickly rises from her barstool, her bracelets jingling as she embraces me. Her expression is warm, and it’s clear that the megawatt, supermodel smile runs in the family. I feel instantly more at ease with her.

  As Danny works on dinner, Casey and I get to know each other. She has a big job as head of admissions for NYU, and we talk about how much harder it is these days for high school graduates to get into college, let alone pay for it. She’s very interested in my brother and his experience at CalTech, and we talk about her kids and their activities. Every so often, I catch Danny’s eye. He looks pleased to see us getting along so well.

  “So Case, Sarah and I watched Bullets Over Broadway the other night. She’d never seen it.”

  “It’s good, but it’s not Woody Allen’s best movie,” Casey tells me. “Annie Hall is his best.”

  “Says you,” Danny scoffs.

  “Says anyone. It’s a fact.”

  “It’s not a fact just because you say it’s a fact.”

  Casey shrugs and makes a face–a face that apparently also runs in the family. It’s all pretty funny to me. Danny can be a bit of a know-it-all, so it’s refreshing to see him on the receiving end of this exchange.

  “Do you mean like when I said you tried to feel up Brooke Decker at my sixteenth birthday?” Casey asks, taking another sip of her wine.

  “Are you kidding me? You’re bringing that up now?”

  “I’m just saying that was a fact, even though you try to deny it.”

  He pauses the dinner prep, kitchen knife in hand. “I did not feel up Brooke Decker. She was the one who tried to kiss me!”

  “That’s not what she said. She said you came into the living room that night–I think you were wearing that Barney Rubble costume you used to wear all the time–and you pretended to trip, so you could put your hand on her boob.”

  Oh, yeah, it’s on.

  Danny’s ears turn red with embarrassment–or outrage, I’m not exactly sure–and I’m treated to a glimpse of the Moore siblings at their teenage best. I honestly think his eyes would be burning a hole in Casey’s face, if that were remotely possible. But she is completely unfazed; she returns the look with cool confidence.

  “That is such a lie,” he counters. “First of all, why are we talking about that costume? One thing has nothing to do with the other. And, by the way, it was Tarzan, who is cool, not Barney Rubble. Plus, I wore that thing when I was like seven, not thirteen.

  “And second of all, I did trip, because Brooke Decker tripped me, and when I fell, she grabbed me, and tried to kiss me. That’s a fact.”

  “You were at least eight with the Barney Rubble thing. I have pictures of you in just your loin cloth at the grocery store.”

  He freezes, a very telling sign. “You do not.”

  “Do,” she taunts, eyebrows raised, Moore-family smirk firmly in place. “In fact, I think I’ll send them to Sarah.” She turns to me with a whopping grin on her face.

  “I am so not getting into this conversation,” I reply holding both hands up. “Although, a thirteen-year-old Tarzan at the grocery store–I would pay to see that.”

  “Seven! I was like seven! Maybe even six!”

  I laugh. There really is nothing I love more than teasing Danny.

  §

  The conversation throughout dinner is light and fun. There’s a lot of good-natured ribbing between the two, and it’s interesting for me to see the familial similarities in their personalities and mannerisms.

  “How’s the remodel coming along?” Danny asks.

  “It’s looking great! You’re going to love it. Here, I have pictures.”

  As Casey rises from her chair to grab the cell phone from her Chanel purse, Danny turns to me to explain.

  “We’re remodeling my parents’ summer house in East Hampton. Casey’s basically driving it since I’m too far away to be of much help.”

  Casey returns with her iPhone, and we gather around as she flips through the pictures and explains what we’re seeing. I’m not really paying much attention to what she and Danny are discussing; the photos she’s showing us are, frankly, a shock.

  The summer house appears to be right on the water with its own private beach. The place has a Nantucket feel, and, I’m no expert on the Hamptons, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t where the poor people hang out.

  She doesn’t have pictures of every room, but the kitchen alone is stunning. It’s a huge bright space with gorgeous white cabinets, black countertops and sparkling stainless appliances. It looks bigger than my apartment.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say quietly. Noticing something in my voice, Danny looks up to meet my eyes.

  “The house has been in my dad’s family for a long time. He grew up on the East Coast. It’s a great location, but it needed some work, so we’ve been updating it over the years. Casey and her family get to spend a lot more time there than I do, obviously.”

  He raises one shoulder like the whole thing is no big deal. But it feels like a big deal.

  “You’ll see it at Christmas,” Casey nods to him. “You should come, too, Sarah.”

  “You definitely should,” he affirms, looking directly at me.

  I don’t respond, just glance down, as Casey continues the discussion of a bathroom remodel. For starters, Christmas is almost two and a half months away, and we haven’t talked about the holidays yet. For all I know, she’s just put him on the spot to invite me, when maybe he doesn’t want to.

  Second, it’s all a little strange. He’s never told me that his parents had a summer home, or that he and Casey still own it. Not that it matters to me; I guess it just never came up. Still, I would think he might have mentioned it at some point.

  After dinner, Danny takes Ralphie for a walk, while Casey and I tackle the dishes. I wash and she dries, making small talk about this and that. But at a lull in the conversation, she catches me off guard.

  “Danny seems really happy.”

  She makes solid eye contact as though she’s watching my response. And I’ll admit, it’s a little disconcerting. I’m suddenly very aware that she and her brother were orphaned, and the bonds of family run thick between them.

  I set a wet saucepan on the counter, shutting off the water faucet, and turn to face her directly.

  “We both are,” I tell her with certainty.

  I
’d wondered how much he’s told her about our relationship or if she’s at all curious about me–I’ve certainly been curious about her. She doesn’t respond, but smiles as though she’s gratified.

  I hesitate for a minute, knowing I shouldn’t do this, but not quite able to stop myself.

  “Can I ask you something? About Danny?”

  She can’t possibly know what I want to ask, and yet she doesn’t seem the least bit surprised that I’d come to her with a question. Her expression is sympathetic; I’m guessing that I’m not the first woman to come seeking information about her brother.

  “Of course. If it’s something I can answer.”

  I take a deep breath. “Why was Danny’s relationship with your father so strained?”

  I’m only half expecting her candor; if she’s anything like her brother, she’ll artfully avoid the subject. And maybe she should; it isn’t really my business.

  She surprises me by sniffing out a small ironic laugh. “That’s a complicated question.”

  “That’s exactly what he said.”

  I feel a little disloyal getting information this way, but I want to know him better. And I don’t know how to connect the dots.

  She picks up a dishtowel, and begins drying the saucepan. Then, setting the pan down on the sink she replies carefully, “My father expected the best from us because he wanted the best for us. Or at least, that’s how he would have probably liked to express it, had he had the skills to do so. He was a good man, Sarah, and he loved us very much in his way, but he had a limited vocabulary when it came to conversations of the emotional kind. You may have noticed something similar in my brother.”

  To say the least.

  “So, as is often the case, they spent years fighting over nothing of any real importance–schoolwork, what my dad perceived as Jamie’s bad influence, Danny’s periodic irresponsibility. Had they both known how short their time would be together, I doubt either would have let any of it take on the magnitude that it did. But you can never see that when you’re in the middle of it.”

  “There had to have been something to it, though. Right?”

  She folds the dishtowel, placing it in the drawer by the sink, and pushes the stack of bangle bracelets back onto her wrist.

  “Yeah, I suppose. My dad was an intellectual and a workaholic, and it frustrated him to no end that Danny could do so well in his classes without killing himself over it. I guess it was sort of a backhanded compliment. He just thought Danny wasn’t living up to his full potential.

  “Plus, my dad didn’t revere sports,” Casey went on. “He felt that sports created a distraction for my brother from a more certain career path. He wasn’t particularly supportive of Danny’s athletic career. That was a major disconnect between them.

  “So, they constantly fought. Almost from the time I can remember. It ripped my mom apart. I think it was the only thing my parents ever argued about. And the more my dad pushed Danny to do something, the more Danny wanted to do the opposite.”

  “But he can’t have objected to the scholarship from UVA.”

  “Ah, the scholarship,” she says rolling her eyes. “That was the final straw. Danny got into Yale, where my father was working at the time, and my dad insisted he go there. He wanted Danny to pursue environmental law. He thought that with Danny’s aptitude for logic and his competitive nature, law would be the perfect career for him. But Danny didn’t want that. He didn’t want to go to school where my dad worked, and he didn’t want a job in a corporate environment. So, he and my dad clashed like titans, and my dad told Danny that if he wasn’t going to take that career path, then my dad wasn’t going to pay for his education.”

  “Would your mom have allowed that?”

  “Never.” She shakes her head in vehement negation. “It was an empty threat made in the heat of the moment, and everybody knew it. But that didn’t matter to my brother. It was the principle of the thing. You know how he is.”

  “He took the scholarship so that your father wouldn’t have anything to hold over him.”

  “Bingo. The University of Virginia is a great school, but if he’d wanted to go Ivy League, he certainly had the grades and the test scores for it. The bottom line was that he loved basketball, and the scholarship allowed him to cut my dad’s purse strings. For him, it was the perfect solution.”

  “And they never worked it out?”

  “No. They were both obstinate. There was so much conflict between them for so long that they just couldn’t get past it, and it got harder and harder to find common ground. There were too many things that set them off. I think they would have outgrown their differences once my dad saw how passionate Danny is about teaching, but they didn’t have enough time.”

  “It’s hard for me to imagine, given everything Danny accomplished, that your dad wasn’t really proud of him.”

  “He was. I know he was.” She thoughtfully twists the bangles on her wrist. “But he was raised in a very traditional way, Sarah, and he believed that’s how you parent a successful son. You push him. You don’t accept anything less than his best. It’s the way my grandparents were with him and my uncle.

  “The tragedy is that I know a part of him respected Danny’s decision to become financially independent. Ironically, that may have made him more proud than anything. It was just hard for him to let go of his own goals for my brother.”

  “Does Danny know that?”

  “We’ve talked about it, but I don’t think he ever believed it. I think he just felt like a disappointment to my father for as long as he can remember. It broke my mom’s heart that Danny was much closer to my uncle than he was to my dad.”

  “Your uncle was the Star Trek fan.”

  “Yes, they were freakish together,” she answers with a smile, but then it goes. “When it happened–the accident–I had my husband, Michael, to lean on. But I think Danny felt very much alone, and the experience changed him. I love seeing him so happy now.”

  My heart does a little turn in my chest. It’s hard even to comprehend that Danny’s father could have taken any exception to such an accomplished son.

  But, perhaps Richard’s intentions came from a good place, despite the way they were communicated. Concern, frustration, and misaligned expectations–even when they stem from parental love–they can all feel like rejection to a child.

  And it breaks my heart that Danny’s relationship with his dad is forever suspended in strife because fate didn’t give them the time to make things right.

  §

  When Danny comes back in the house with Ralphie, who is overheated but seemingly content from his mild exertions, I’m still thinking about my conversation with Casey. Maybe he’s able to see it in my face because he cocks his head to the side in question. I smile brightly at him, not wanting him to know. He wouldn’t want my pity.

  He comes over and kisses me, running his finger down my cheek.

  “Everything okay?” he asks softly.

  “Of course! I think I’m ready for bed, though.”

  I do my best to sound tired. I am, but more than anything, I want a little time to think about everything I learned tonight. And Danny is just too perceptive when it comes to me.

  “I’ll be in soon.” A roguish expression crosses his face, and my heart skips a beat.

  §

  As I’m getting under the covers, I happen to hear Dan and Casey talking softly in the hallway. I don’t pay much attention until I hear Casey ask, “Have you discussed it with her yet?”

  ‘Her’ meaning me?

  I confess that I suddenly become very interested in the conversation. Eavesdropping is something you do at your own peril, I know, but I can’t help it–I hold my breath, and focus in on the muted discussion happening outside the door.

  “No, not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  I don’t hear the answer, but if I know my boyfriend, it probably came in the form of a stubborn shrug.

  “Danny, you shouldn’t wait–not if
you’re serious about this.”

  He sighs. “I know. I will.”

  Shortly thereafter, he opens the door and comes in. After brushing his teeth, and stripping down to his boxer briefs, he climbs into bed. I don’t mention what I overheard. I shouldn’t have been listening anyway, and if it’s something to do with me, he has to want to tell me.

  He’s in a playful mood, which is my absolute weakness because he’s not that way with most people. He pounces, tickling me and biting my neck.

  “What are you doing?” I’m flattened like a pancake, and gasping for breath as he reaches under my tank top to stroke my nipple.

  “I’m having sex with you,” he pronounces like he’s a sultan.

  “No, you’re not,” I tell him. “Not tonight. I don’t want your sister to hear us.”

  “I’m pretty sure she knows I have sex.”

  His eyebrow quirks up sardonically before he lowers down to take my earlobe into his mouth. I struggle to push him off, but it’s no use–I might as well be pushing a brick wall.

  “Well, knowing it and hearing it are two very different things!”

  “Then you’d better come quietly this time.”

  He’s busying himself by divesting me of my tank top, despite my feeble protests, when we hear a blood-curdling scream coming from the guest room. Danny and I both leap out of bed–he in his boxer briefs and me in my pajama shorts and molested tank.

  We throw the door open to find Casey sitting in bed with the bedside lamp on. She’s screeching and flailing her arms wildly, as she shakes her head and bats at her hair.

  “What the hell?” Dan exclaims.

  “It’s a spider! It was on me!”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement on the carpet, and Danny and I both turn quickly to see a large brown spider crawling across the floor. Dan traps it under an empty water glass from the nightstand.

  “Holy shit!” He turns to me with eyes wide and intense. “It’s a brown recluse!”