She smiled. “And clearly I couldn’t resist you,” she said.
“But it’s a good thing we did,” Reuben said, more of a question than a statement. “Resist each other, I mean.”
“I guess it is,” she said, covering herself. She honestly wasn’t sure. Her phone rang for the third time, and she finally looked to see who it was. Joel’s image looked back at her—she had never changed it—and she guessed it was probably Lincoln checking in. She should answer it, but she didn’t want to with Reuben here. She would call back as soon as he left.
For the first time in a long time, she let herself think about what Joel had that nobody else would ever have—the only thing that no one else would ever possess, no matter how great they were. It was that he had been there when both of their children had breathed air for the first time. But it was so much more than that. She always knew it, but she let herself think it now. It was hard to find someone to have an affair with, that was clear, but there were other people out there. If she had met Reuben at a different time, maybe. He was kind and smart. But he wasn’t Joel. Nobody could make her laugh the way he did, or know what she needed before she even knew, or—and this was the big one—stick around even when things got bad, because inevitably, at some point, they were going to get bad in one way or another. It was fairly easy to be aroused by someone when you were in the right place at the right time, drinking ice-cold, delicious beer. It was impossible to know if that would last until the next day or the next year or beyond a decade. It was impossible to know any of these things without having the luxury of time to test them.
“I’m sorry,” she said, worried now that she hadn’t been nice enough to Reuben, that he might be so aroused that she would make him uncomfortable by stopping. She thought quickly about what it would mean to sleep with him, just this once, just quickly, but she didn’t want to anymore. She didn’t even want to do it to get back at Joel. That wasn’t what this was going to be about in the end. It wasn’t about who else she could be with. It was about if she could forgive Joel and move on from there.
“I’m sorry,” he said, so kindly, leaning into her shoulder and hiding his face for a minute. “I pushed you. You’ve been very clear, and I pushed you. I’m just going to go back to my room, take a quick shower, and I’ll be ready for dinner in thirty minutes, okay?”
She let him keep his head there, and she pushed hers back against his to let him know that yes, that would be okay. He got up, not quite looking her in the eyes, and walked to the door.
“Don’t forget your growler,” she called.
He turned and picked it up before pouring some more to fill her glass and then drinking directly from it.
“Whoa, slow down,” she said, laughing. “All is well.”
“Is it?” he asked, looking at her. “Because I think you’re attractive—I always have, long before any possible fake affair or anything like that—but more than anything, I like you, I like our friendship, and I had promised myself I wouldn’t do anything like that. But then I got so excited at the beer chat—it was inspirational—and I think this beer might have a slightly higher alcohol content or at the very least has some magical powers, and I just felt, I don’t know, invincible for a minute. Please, forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive, and please don’t misunderstand this,” she said, feeling more in control now that he was enough of a distance away from her that she could trust herself again. “This isn’t because I’m not attracted to you. I am. It’s just that, well, in addition to everything else, I don’t want to do to Lucy what Tara did to me.”
“I respect that,” he said quietly. “More than you know. I’ll see you in a few.”
What she had wanted to say, though she thought it would be too much in the moment, was that she wanted to thank him, too, because for the first time she could almost understand how something could happen so out of context, under just the right circumstances. The big question was, What should she now do with that realization?
PART THREE—I’LL SEE YOU TOMORROW
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“We’re from Philly,” Ridley chanted.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Hannah said, interrupting the song, which, Hannah knew, continued with the words fucking Philly. “Rid, come on, I get that it’s a catchy song, but no bad words, okay?”
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“That’s okay, sweetie. I know it’s an exciting night,” Hannah said. She ran back into the kitchen to grab the cake she had baked, chocolate in the shape of a football with Go Birds! written on it. Ridley cheered as she brought it out and held it up for her to view.
“Do you think we’ll see Daddy and Lincoln on TV?” Ridley asked, moving closer to the television screen.
“I doubt it,” Hannah said.
“Do you think they’ll get better seats if Lincoln tells someone he’s named after the stadium?” she asked, tripping a little on the word stadium. “That’s so cool that he’s named after that place, and I’m named after a dumb park in Delaware County.”
“That’s not true,” Hannah said. “That it’s a dumb park. It’s a great park. We go there all the time.”
“Whatever,” Ridley said, beginning to adopt Lincoln’s ability to sound much older than she was. “But do you? Think they can get better seats?”
“I hope so,” Hannah said.
The doorbell rang, and Hannah jumped up to get it. Kim stood just outside the door, looking vaguely sheepish. “Hi!” she said, raising her hand and waving half-heartedly.
“Hi yourself,” Hannah said, grabbing her forearm and pulling her inside. She was so glad to see her. Hannah had called her after her time in Delaware and begged her to be her friend again. She had said those magic words: “You’re my person. I am never going to find another person like you.” And Kim had agreed, though she hadn’t said the words back and continued to seem a little cold. Then the other day Kim had called, sounding especially sad. She’d explained that Hank had gotten tickets for him and the kids to the NFC championship game between the Eagles and the Minnesota Vikings. She had considered getting her own ticket, but she and Hannah had agreed that would be worse—sitting alone while her family was somewhere in the stadium together. That was when Hannah had felt the slightest shift back to the way things used to be between them.
Kim was wearing her Eagles jersey. She had green paint on her face and a green foam hand that said #1. Hannah felt sorry for her. She looked as stadium ready as a person could look.
“Thanks for coming,” Hannah said, leaning in to hug her. “And for bringing so much spirit.”
“I’m happy to be here,” she said, hugging back before dropping onto the couch next to Ridley and patting her on the thigh. She focused on the screen. “Do you know where Joel and Linc are sitting?”
“High up, I think,” Hannah said. “But Lincoln was going to tell someone he’s named after the stadium with the hope that they’ll treat him like a VIP. I was afraid to tell him that wasn’t very likely.”
“You don’t think they will?” Ridley asked, alarmed.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Hannah said. “Maybe.”
She was excited about the game, but it wasn’t lost on her that the Eagles were playing the Minnesota Vikings. Somehow it seemed like more than just a football game, like it was some sort of symbolic battle, that if the Eagles could win, it would be a concrete step toward putting Minnesota and Tara and HOTEL behind them, even though she knew that was ridiculous.
Lincoln had barely slept the night before. He’d been up at three o’clock and again at four o’clock, changing from one Eagles shirt to another because he truly believed that his shirt choice might somehow affect the outcome of the game. They were all exhausted. Hannah sat down in the chair next to the couch with a big sigh, just in time to see the Vikings run away with the ball to score the first touchdown of the game.
“Oh, that’s not good,” Hannah said.
“It’s still so early,” Kim said seriously. “It’s go
ing to be a long game.”
Hannah’s phone rang across the room. She pushed herself up with effort and went to grab it. She was surprised to see Reuben’s name.
“Hello?” she said reluctantly.
“Hannah? It’s Reuben. I am so sorry to bother you, but I tried Joel, and he didn’t pick up.”
“That’s okay,” Hannah said. “What’s up?”
“It’s Richard,” Reuben said.
“Is he okay?” Hannah asked, her eyes still on the game, imagining it would be an issue with the soap or maybe his crying.
“Well, we’re taking him to the hospital,” Reuben said. “An ambulance is here.”
“What? Why?” Kim and Ridley turned to look at Hannah; her tone had gone from not too interested to panicked.
“When I went in to say good night, he didn’t look good,” Reuben said. “He was disoriented. As I got closer, I could see his lips were blue. I called for help right away.”
“Where are they taking him?” Hannah asked.
“Methodist,” Reuben said. “I can meet you there.”
“I’ll come right away,” she said. “I’m leaving now.”
When she hung up, she jammed her phone into her purse and looked up. Kim and Ridley were watching her.
“It’s Grandpa,” she said, trying to tone down her intense concern. “He wasn’t feeling well, so they have to take him to the doctor. I’m going to meet him there since they couldn’t reach Daddy. Kim, do you mind staying with Rid?”
Kim stood up and walked over to Hannah. She put her calming hand on her shoulder. “I don’t mind at all,” she said. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“No, this alone is so much,” Hannah said, grabbing her coat. “What would I have done if you weren’t here?”
“Well, I’m glad I am,” Kim said.
Hannah walked over to Ridley and gave her a quick hug. “I’ll call as soon as I can,” she said. When she got to the door, she turned around and called, “Go Eagles!”
Hannah flagged down a cab and tried calling Joel, but there was no answer. Before she knew it, she was getting out at Methodist and going through the metal detector, thinking that as soon as he was well enough, they would transfer him to Pennsylvania Hospital.
Inside she told the woman at the desk whom she was there to see and was escorted back to a hectic emergency room. She found Richard in a curtained area to the right. A bunch of nurses had gathered just outside and were whispering, and at first Hannah was alarmed, thinking they were talking about his health. But then she heard someone say, “The news anchor for NBC! I grew up watching him!” And someone else said, “I can’t believe he’s here,” and she knew they were just starstruck. She smiled as she walked by them and toward Richard. His eyes were closed, and he looked pale. He was getting oxygen, and he already had an IV in place. Reuben came up behind her.
“Hi,” he said. “They’ll need you to do some paperwork.”
“How is he?” she asked.
“They think it might be congestive heart failure,” Reuben said. “They’re still doing a bunch of tests; nothing has been determined yet. His oxygen level was very low, but they have it back up now—not all the way but to a better place, they said. They had a more aggressive oxygen mask on at first, which he didn’t like, and they just switched to this, so that seemed like a good sign to me.”
“Well, it was nice of you to come with him,” she said. “Once again you did more than you had to.”
“I wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Reuben said. “Anyway, they were asking about insurance and a few other things. I told them you would go over it when you got here.”
“Okay,” she said, not wanting to deal with that now. “And I guess you can go. You probably don’t want to miss the game.”
“I don’t mind hanging out a little,” he said. “Could you reach Joel?”
“No, he’s at the game. I have a feeling the cell phone signals are completely overwhelmed. It might be hard to reach him.”
Reuben nodded.
“Hannah?”
She turned and saw Richard’s eyes were open. He sounded tired, but he also sounded just like himself. She went over to him and hugged him gently, placing her head on his chest for the briefest minute. She realized she thought she might not get to talk to him again, that he wouldn’t be there anymore. The thought overwhelmed her, and she swallowed hard before lifting her head all the way up to meet his eyes.
“Richard,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you. How are you feeling?”
“Can you please close the curtains?” Richard said seriously. “I have to tell you some things, and I am not sure how much time I have left.”
“You have time,” Hannah said. “They got your oxygen level back up already. You look much better than you did, I’m sure of that. Maybe you were dehydrated. You have plenty of time.”
“Is Joel here?” he asked.
“No, but not because he doesn’t want to be,” Hannah said quickly. Richard had let Joel start to visit him again, but Joel kept saying their time together still felt strained. “I can’t even reach him. He doesn’t know you’re here. He’s at the game with Lincoln.”
“Okay, that makes this all a little easier,” Richard said, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “Can you please close the curtains? And close them as tight as you can. I can hear people out there whispering about me. One nurse asked me for my autograph, which I didn’t mind, really. How many have I signed in my life? Thousands? More? So I figure, what’s one last autograph? It’s symbolic.”
“What are you talking about?” Hannah asked. “Why would it be your last autograph?”
Richard raised his eyebrows and nodded toward the curtain. Reluctantly, Hannah walked to the outer edge of his area. She grabbed the curtain to pull it shut and caught Reuben’s eyes as she did it. She made a face saying, I have no idea what he wants, and Reuben made a similar face back to her.
“Okay,” she said, walking back to Richard. “All closed.”
He pushed himself up as best he could. “All living things have a cycle,” Richard began, using his official I’m reporting the news tone. “People are born, they live, but they must die.”
“Richard,” Hannah said, exasperated. “You are not going to die!”
“Well,” he said, not sounding as official as he just had. “I am ready to. I have decided it’s time to go. A new year has begun; I no longer want to be a burden to any of you. In fact, I think you will be better able to focus on your family and your marriage once I’m gone. I have sucked too much away from what’s important.”
“Richard,” Hannah said, trying not to cry. “No. Just no. You are our family. You are what’s important. As much as any of us. Richard. Please. This is totally crazy.”
“And there’s something else,” he said.
“Something else?”
“I almost told you before, I’m sure you remember,” he said.
“Oh yes, something about a regret you have?” Hannah said. “I do remember.”
“Well, this is my deathbed confession,” he said, and he cleared his throat.
“Look, Richard, I want to know what you have to tell me,” Hannah said, talking quickly. “I have wanted to know since you alluded to it but not if it’s your deathbed confession. I would rather not know if it means keeping you around longer. I don’t really need to know. Tell me another time. In a few years. Or maybe not even that soon.”
“It isn’t up to you to determine when and how someone gives a deathbed confession,” Richard said, and she caught a glimpse of the part of him that hadn’t been around much for the last few months, maybe longer, the part that was authoritarian but saw the ridiculousness in it. One of the parts of him that she loved and missed. “It is only up to the giver of the confession to determine where and when that will happen. So please sit back and listen, because this is it.”
Hannah looked around. There was a chair off to the side, but it seemed too far away, so she just stood ther
e and waited.
“If one is truly lucky,” Richard began, “one will find the love of his or her life. Many people think that is the hard part, the finding. It isn’t. The hard part is navigating all of the circumstances, changes, shocks, tragedies, and hardships that come to everyone over the course of forty or fifty or sixty years. Of course, there are many good moments, too, and it’s a matter of getting through the bad or at least finding a way to accept the bad so you can share the good.”
Hannah had two thoughts. The first was that this was exactly what she had been thinking about in Delaware and ever since. Had Richard read her mind? And the second thought was that, finally, he was going to tell her.
“You barely knew Celine,” Richard said, talking about his wife and Joel’s mother. “You joined our family when she was already sick and not at all the person she had once been. I think that’s one of the sadder things, since I believe you and she would have truly loved each other. But I also believe that your knowing her better, or at least knowing her true self before she got sick, would have been a way to better understand Joel and me and the Bents in general. She was a loving, warm, and passionate woman. She was a great mother, and I would not have wanted to have any other wife. I make that last statement with complete confidence, so I will say it again. I would not have wanted to have any other wife. But she was not perfect. Really, who is? And she did things that hurt me, very much. During the course of our marriage—and as you know, we were married for almost fifty years—she had two affairs. One was ongoing, and he came back to haunt us from time to time, and the other was rapid fire; it swelled quickly and burned out. I discovered this second affair when she was out late one night, got sick, and couldn’t get herself home. I was working that night, I was a reporter for the NBC affiliate at that time, and this strange man called and basically told me he didn’t know what to do with her. I thought she was at home with Joel, who was fairly young, but Joel was with a neighbor. If all had gone well, if her appendix hadn’t acted up at that moment, rendering her unable to function, I might never have known. But once that came out, she told me about everything, including the man she had slept with on and off since our second anniversary.”
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