“Wait, dude—are you shitting me?” asked an astonished Danny.
“Nope. I shit you not,” Nate replied. “I asked her to marry me.” Nate had called Danny as he drove away from his parking spot a few blocks from the dance studio. Though it was hardly a done deal with Jennifer, he felt elated, wired, excited. He had taken a giant life step and, though he knew the road that got him there was twisty and filled with potholes—many of his own making—it was an overwhelming sense of accomplishment, one that he needed to immediately share. Which was also something startlingly new for Nate. He could feel himself beaming through the phone.
“Was she, like, blown away? I mean …” Danny took a breath to figure this out. “When was the last time you two even talked?”
Nate realized he’d never told Danny about that last fraught meet-up with Jennifer at his house, hadn’t told anyone but Mira, and needed to backtrack. So, he quickly filled him in on the bit about Jennifer talking to Amy, how shitty it made him feel, and the big stink he made over it, which might have sent any woman running for the door. Which it did. And yet.
“That’s ’cause she loves you, man,” Danny said conclusively, then yelled some wits’-end threat at Raffi who was clearly testing the limits of the terrible twos. “And I’m having another kid, why?” Danny asked, more to himself than to Nate.
Nate turned off Melrose onto La Brea and headed north toward the Hollywood Freeway. Cody’s head was stuck out the passenger window, eyes closed, basking in the warming breeze.
“So, what happens next?” Danny wanted to know. “With the future Mrs. Cronin?”
“Well, the future Mrs. Cronin has to decide if she wants to even be the future Mrs. Cronin.” Nate stopped at a light across from Pink’s famous hot dog stand. His stomach rumbled. Was it too early for a foot-long with chili? Apparently not—the lunch line was already snaking out along the sidewalk.
Danny wondered, “Hey, so what happened to the ring?”
“When I left, it was still on her finger.”
“Suh-weet,” Danny practically sang. “You’re in, my brother.”
“Yeah, I thought it was encouraging, too, but … I think it’s been firmly established that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
“Screw that, you did great. I’m proud of you, partner.”
Nate grinned, appreciating the vote of confidence. “The good news is, I have a week to return the ring—full refund. So.”
“In a week you’ll be planning your honeymoon, you’ll see.”
“I wish I had your confidence,” Nate said. And he meant it. The light turned green; he left hot dog haven behind. Cody gave up his perch at the window and curled up in the passenger seat.
“I’d put Leesh on so she could congratulate you but she’s out shopping. Wait’ll I tell her, she’s gonna be super happy.”
Nate heard a two-year-old’s screech come wailing through the phone. “Is everything okay?” Nate yelled over the noise.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s cool. The kid just saw a squirrel. He’s trying to catch it but the fucker’s just too fast.” He realized: “The squirrel—not Raffi.”
They laughed. Raffi piped down, and Nate and Danny made a plan to meet at Starlight Nursery Monday morning before heading over to start their latest job: tiering and planting a steep hillside behind a house in Bronson Canyon, a tucked-away spot in the Hollywood Hills. (“I’m gonna wear me some golf shoes for traction!” Danny had joked when they first saw the precipitous property, though there were worse ideas.)
Nate hung up and, his enthusiasm still in high gear, decided another phone call was in order. Amy answered on the first ring and sounded both excited and wary to hear from him. They’d kept their distance since The Day of the Blue Seiko (he wondered, like with Jennifer’s diamond ring, if Amy had a week to return the watch—and if he should have taken it after all).
Her words that last time about him learning to accept love had resonated and, in their way, helped bring him back to Jennifer. And now he could return the favor. Amy had said that she wanted to feel better about the life she’d lived; by being her son—really and truly—Nate could give that to her. He was ready. He was willing. And, he thought, finally able.
Besides, there just might be a wedding to help plan.
Still, the hesitation he heard in Amy’s voice when he asked if he and Cody could stop by for a visit gave him pause. Until, in a lighter, brighter voice she told Nate, “Of course, honey, we’d love to see you.”
We? It turned out that Robin was down from Fresno for the weekend. “Really? That’s great!” Nate enthused, because he had a mother and a sister and it was time to appreciate the inconceivable turn of events in his life and start putting the darker parts of the past—Jim’s past, to be exact—behind him. “Be there in fifteen,” he told Amy as he swung away from the Hollywood Freeway entrance and toward the Cahuenga Pass en route to Toluca Woods.
Nate parked at the curb in front of Amy’s house, pulling up behind Robin’s bright red Kia Soul. He admired the sun-drenched front yard that he and the guys had planted; it was looking lush, rich, lasting. As he exited the truck, leaving Cody inside for now, he wondered how Amy’s gardenias were doing and reminded himself to be sure to take a look. Nate rang the doorbell, eying a pair of empty cartons sitting beside the front door. He figured maybe Robin had brought Amy more of her things from up north. He smiled to himself: might be a good sign.
His mother opened the door looking less kempt than usual. She wore old jeans and a stained white T-shirt, taupe canvas slip-ons, and not a trace of makeup; her hair was tucked under a Fresno State Bulldogs cap. Nate wondered if she and Robin were cleaning the house or repainting a room, though he wasn’t sure why they’d be doing either.
Amy hugged Nate hello as if their last meeting had ended on a far brighter note, which continued Nate’s new wave of optimistic resolve. Robin, looking a bit scruffy in shorts, a halter top, and flip-flops, greeted him warmly, yet there was also something guarded about her. Given how anxious she was much of the time Nate was in Fresno, he assumed it was just more of the same. It’s not like he was all cucumber-cool either; in a way, he was starting over with the both of them. And he wanted it to go well.
While they were still in the foyer, Nate beamed. “I have some, well, maybe—could be—exciting news to tell you,” he said, starting for the living room. He didn’t want to share his proposal story in the cramped mud hall, wanted to see Amy’s face full-on when he told her. But Robin stepped in front of her brother, blocking him from going any further, catching Amy’s eye as she did so.
It still didn’t dawn on Nate what mother and daughter were up to, though it did register how quiet Amy had become. Then, just as Amy said, “Nate, I have something I need to tell you first,” he glanced over Robin’s shoulder and into the living room. He spied a row of open, packed cartons on the floor and several pieces of furniture turned this way and that.
“Let’s all sit down for a minute, okay?” Amy finally said, gesturing for Robin to step aside and let them pass. Robin, a worried look on her face, backed away and followed Amy and Nate into the living room. “Sorry for the mess,” said Amy, straightening one of the wayward wingbacks, “we’re kind of in the middle of something.”
“A little redecorating?” Nate asked brightly, though as the words came out, he knew his guess was wrong. His instinct was confirmed by the women’s stiff silence.
Just then, Nate realized some of Amy’s personal items—framed photos, pottery pieces, a stack of art books—were missing from their usual spots around the room. Like one of those bolts of lightning that sometimes hit him during therapy, it struck Nate that the missing items must be what were wrapped in newspaper and sticking out of the unsealed cartons a few feet away. He glanced back at Amy and then locked eyes with Robin, who didn’t wait for her mother to explain what he now knew.
“Nate, Mom’s moving back to Fresno,” Robin confirmed, her voice thick, quavery. She turned away from her brother as if she’d just confessed to a crime.
Amy jumped in. “I wanted to tell you, but it all happened so fast. And, after that last visit—honestly, I didn’t know what to think.” She was on the verge of tears.
“I know. I handled it weirdly—badly,” Nate admitted. “But even you said that conversation was, what did you call it? Kind of a start?”
“Until it wasn’t,” Amy reminded him, more direct now.
The watch. “I should have taken the watch. I loved the watch. You were right, I was just being stubborn. I apologize.”
“Honey, it wasn’t the watch,” Amy said quietly. “And I think you know that.”
He did. He did at the time. He couldn’t help himself. Any more than he could help himself now. He eyed Robin taking in this exchange, her head down and tilted away, like someone trying-not-trying to watch a car roll off a cliff. Nate could feel his heart hammering in his chest, prickles of sweat breaking out under his shirt. How stupid, how cavalier, to think he could waltz into his mother’s house and think she’d stay just because he asked. Like she didn’t have a mind of her own, a life of her own, a shred of dignity. He forgot how happy he’d been just a few short minutes ago.
Nate jumped off the couch. “I don’t want you to go!” he said loudly, urgently, startling Amy and Robin.
“What?” Amy asked, eyes narrowing, flummoxed.
Nate crouched in front of her. “I missed having a mother for thirty years, I can’t miss thirty more.” Just then, Cody began barking from the truck. Nate had forgotten all about him.
“It’s too late,” Robin told her brother. “She’s made up her mind.”
“Robin, please!” said Amy. Robin shrunk back, her face a mask of anxiety. It looked as if Amy was about to speak again, but nothing came out.
Nate stood, assembling his thoughts. “I know I said I couldn’t decide for you: about taking the job, about staying here. But I was wrong. I can decide. You should stay.” His voice cracked; his eyes filled. “You should stay and be the mother I never had.”
Amy looked overwhelmed by Nate’s passion, his commitment to her—to them. “Oh, Nate,” was all she could muster. Meantime, Robin appeared shaken, like she was losing her grasp on an already tenuous situation. Cody barked again in the distance.
Nate sat back down on the couch, staring out at a spot somewhere between his mother and sister. “I spent my whole life thinking my mother died so I could live,” he began. “That in the most innocent and unexpected way possible, I was responsible for another person’s death.” He shifted his gaze to Amy, hunched forward on the couch. “Then you came along and, suddenly, we both had the chance to erase a lifetime’s worth of pain and guilt. Only I wasn’t ready to give all that up. Until now.”
“Oh, my God,” exhaled Amy. She crossed to the couch, sat next to Nate, and hugged him tightly, desperately. He started to cry, resting his head on her shoulder. Robin watched them cleaving to each other, seemingly not quite sure how to react. The antique clock on the mantle delivered a series of mournful clangs heralding the new hour.
Amy pulled away from Nate, composing herself. She tucked a few stray wisps of hair back behind her ears and smoothed out her wrinkled T-shirt. Nate was on the verge of a smile, the kind that came from the relief of unburdening one’s soul. But, somehow, Amy’s expression was more subdued, even troubled. Any thought of a smile vanished from Nate’s face.
“I’m sorry, Nate. I’m so, so sorry,” Amy said. The pain in her voice was palpable.
Nate looked from Amy to Robin and back. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he asked. By then, he knew the question was rhetorical.
“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Won’t always love you …” Amy’s voice drifted off. She glanced nervously at Robin, who looked calmer now that her mother had spoken her piece, difficult as it was.
“Mom will come visit,” Robin assured Nate. “We’ll come visit. And you’ll come see us. It’ll be great, you’ll see.” Nate’s expression was so obviously dubious that Robin seemed forced to add: “We’re going to be a real family. We promise. We love you, Nate.” It sounded convincing enough and maybe she believed it. Maybe even Nate believed it. But, just then, it all seemed awfully beside the point.
Amy took Nate’s hand. “Please understand, my darling.”
He understood. He understood all too well. He’d made it too difficult for Amy, spent too much time on the fence—sometimes completely on the other side of that fence. Thinking, overthinking, waffling: Should she stay or should she go? And this last time, when she needed his answer most, the love he was holding back most, he disappointed her. Maybe for the last time. She was packing up her toys and going home—with the child who needed her for real, not in theory. Maybe it was the path of least resistance. Or maybe Amy just wanted her old life back.
He suddenly had so many questions, mostly of the practical kind: Don’t you have a lease? What about all this furniture? What about your job promotion? Will you move back into your condo? What do Gene and Diane think? He could have asked her all that and more, stayed there and fought for her. But he didn’t. Cody started barking again, more insistently now, like he was yapping out a code. Nate decided to leave before he did or said something he’d regret, and quickly hugged Amy and Robin goodbye.
“Wait!” Amy called, as Nate grabbed for the doorknob. “What was it you came to tell me?” she asked, genuinely curious.
Nate thought about Jennifer, looking so radiant in the dance studio, the diamond ring glinting off her hand. But the undeniable thrill he had felt in that moment with her—its potential, its faith in something good and true—had all but evaporated.
“It’s not important,” Nate answered, his hand still stuck to the doorknob as if it were going to twist itself.
Amy studied him. “Are you sure?”
He didn’t have the energy to even begin the story much less finish it.
“Okay, look, just … wait here for a second, would you?” Amy asked, already halfway out of the living room. For a few seconds, time stopped, and then Amy returned with the Seiko box in hand.
“I want you to have this. No debate,” she ordered Nate as she thrust the gift at him. He reflexively took the watch, holding it to his chest. “Wear it, don’t wear it. Sell it if you want. But please—just take it.”
So, he did. And with one final look at Amy and Robin, Nate left to reunite with his barking dog. Because Cody needed him.