CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
On the morning of Levi’s bar mitzvah, Tabitha woke up crying. She couldn’t grasp on to what she was crying about. A dream? The fact that Stuart wasn’t here to see this? The fact that she was so grateful that Levi was here and walking and talking and able to do this? She wasn’t sure. Before she got out of bed, her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello?”
“Tabitha, it’s Rabbi Rosen, I just wanted to let you know we are so happy about today, and we are here to help you with anything you might need.”
Tabitha’s tears hadn’t really stopped before she answered, and now they flowed freely and heavily.
“Thank you,” she managed to get out.
“I can only imagine it’s a hard day for you,” the rabbi said. “But I think it’s also going to be a great day, a magical day, an awesome day, and we are so happy to be a part of it.”
“Thank you,” she said again, a little stronger this time. “We’ll be there in about an hour.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” the rabbi said.
She got up and intended to go right to the shower, but she walked to Levi’s room instead. He was fast asleep and had the same expression on his face he had when he was a baby. Tabitha sat gently next to him but didn’t dare touch him, partly because he might be annoyed and partly because he was still sore. He opened his eyes.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she said, expecting him to yell and tell her to get out, but he didn’t.
“Wow, I’m nervous,” he said, sitting up. His bruises were more yellow than purple now, which she knew was a good thing.
“Don’t be,” Tabitha said. “It will be mostly just us, then lunch at Di Bruno’s after—Aunt Rachel has that all set up. It will be a nice day.”
Levi nodded. She got up and left him to get ready. As she headed to her shower she saw Fern, walking around her room in circles. She hadn’t even realized she was awake.
“What’s up, Fernie Bernie?” Tabitha asked.
“My leg feels better,” she said. “But I just want to make sure.”
“That is amazing news,” Tabitha said. “Just in time for the big day.”
“Yeah,” Fern said. “Just in time.”
Stuart Brewer woke up in a hotel room, and the first thing he did was look out the window, expecting to see Lake Superior. He never slept with his blinds closed anymore; he felt too hemmed in. But he didn’t see Lake Superior, he saw the Delaware River. He sat up and cleared his throat. He had about an hour to get there, and he still hadn’t figured out how he was going to do it. Should he call first? Just show up? Throw himself into the river and never go at all? He showered and dressed, went down for a cab, the whole time his hand was on his phone in his pocket, but he did not pull it out.
“Rodeph Shalom,” he said to the cab driver.
He looked out the window as the cab took him north and eventually west. The cab stopped in front. The renovation, which was underway when Stuart left, was now complete. It almost looked like an entirely different place, at least from this angle. This moment, this event, was the only thing he had on his calendar—at all, for the rest of his life. Without Abigail out there somewhere—and since she had died, he realized that he’d always been aware that she was out there somewhere—he felt completely ungrounded. He swiped his last, barely working credit card and got out. He was going to see so many people he knew. He had no idea what Tabitha had been saying these past months. And none of it compared to what it would be like to face her.
He walked around the new grand entrance to the older one, which was grand enough for him. By doing that he avoided a lot of people, though as far as he could tell he didn’t recognize any of them. For a brief moment he thought he might have the wrong day. He walked in and grabbed a program, saw he had the right day, then went to sit in the back with a yarmulke on and his head down.
They came in, and all he wanted to do was run to them, but he didn’t; he stayed seated, pretending to be completely immersed in a prayer book. They sat in the front row. The seats filled in, but he noticed there was no additional family here, none of Levi’s friends. Oh, he saw Butch off to the side, but that was it. The music started, and Levi was up there. He had grown, and Stuart could see there was something wrong with his face. It was discolored. He was glad to know about the bike accident or he would have really worried. Suddenly, Levi was saying something in Hebrew—this was it, and Stuart had the urge to slow it down. What was he going to do after this? But Levi saw him. He clearly saw him, and he stopped saying whatever he was saying. Now faces turned to see what Levi saw. Some looked right past him, but Tabitha noticed him. Her face completely changed when she spotted him. It was almost like all the muscles in her cheeks clenched up and twitched. Then she turned back toward the front of the sanctuary, toward Levi. She sat so straight that she looked uncomfortable. Levi stumbled, then used the yad to find his place. He kept going; his words were beautiful. His voice became stronger and stronger.
He came! Levi couldn’t believe he came! He felt this might be his only chance to show his father what he could do. He had worked so hard for this, for this exact purpose. To prove to his father that he was worth sticking around for, worth being proud of, worth claiming as his son. He stood up straighter, held the yad as Rabbi Rosen had instructed him to do, and he read perfectly from the Torah, his inflections just right. He never wanted it to end. What would happen when it was over? Would his father disappear again? No, don’t think about that. Focus. Read.
Fern couldn’t stop looking at him. He looked the same, well, almost the same, but she felt uncomfortable, like he might not reach out and accept her into his arms the way he always did, or the way he used to. But she wanted to show him her leg was better! She couldn’t wait to show him! And then something gloomy came into her mind. He never even knew her leg was bad, so he wouldn’t care that it was better. How could she have lived through something so important, something so hard, completely without him?
Levi stumbled over his Hebrew words. He cleared his throat and started again. Fern turned her attention back to her brother.
Tabitha waited. It was ruined for her, but she did not want to ruin it for Levi. She sat, feeling like something was sticking through her middle, like she had been pierced, and she waited. She smiled when she joined the procession walking the Torah around the sanctuary, something they had practiced, and Stuart had enough sense to not join in. They all had enough sense to avoid his row. He just stood and watched. It was like she knew him and she didn’t know him. When it was finally over and everyone crowded around Levi, Tabitha walked toward Stuart. She pointed toward the closest exit, and he followed her into a stairwell. She didn’t plan to stay long—she didn’t want Levi to notice she was gone—but she saw no other choice. To let him come and to not call him on any of it would be like letting him get away with something, and she couldn’t do that.
She turned to Stuart, who was now sitting at the bottom of the stairs, his face in his hands. She hated him. There was just no other way to describe what she was feeling. She took a chance on him, and now she knew she had wasted her life. He never deserved her trust, and her love, and her hope.
“I don’t even know where to start,” she said, keeping her voice down and pacing. A few weeks ago, before the accident, this would have gone a different way, but now, now that Levi was okay, all of this mattered so much less. But still . . .
“Are you going to make me ask the questions?” Tabitha said. “Really?”
He didn’t say anything. She felt that she could hear the seconds tick away; she wanted to be with Levi. She heard Levi laugh, and she relaxed slightly—he wasn’t looking for her yet.
“Why are you here? Why did you come?”
“I was always going to come,” Stuart said, more to his hands than to her. “What I wasn’t going to do was stay away so long. When I left, I knew it would be some time, but I didn’t know how long.”
Ten questions were trying to get out of her mouth at the same time, and all she wanted to do was go back to Levi. She heard him laugh again.
“You know what? I don’t want to do this now,” she said. “I don’t want to miss any of this.”
“I have questions, too,” he said dumbly.
“I want you to leave, but I can’t do that to Levi. We will go back in, you will tell him he did a great job and that you’re proud of him. You are not welcome at our celebration today. I want to meet you tomorrow at noon at Starbucks to talk this through. You can tell Levi you will celebrate in your own way if you want to, or not. That is up to you.”
Stuart nodded, and she expected him to dispute something or fight for something she hadn’t given him. Instead, he stood and reached for the door, pulling it open, and Levi’s voice spilled toward them. Stuart stepped back and let Tabitha go first, then they both walked toward their son.
Tabitha entered Starbucks half expecting that Stuart wouldn’t come. She never specified which Starbucks, though she hoped he would know she meant the one a block away from their apartment, that was always their Starbucks. She had no idea what he did after the ceremony yesterday or where he slept. She didn’t try to call him or email him, not that she would have gotten through, but she was aware of how done she was with him. She did hope to get some answers, though, and would be disappointed if she didn’t get the chance. Mostly, she wanted to have a chance to tell him how horrible what he did was, not just to her, that was bad enough, but to the kids. She hoped she’d be able to keep it together. She knew how hard it was to get through to him sometimes. Well, most of the time. Somewhere, deep down, she also knew she was not entirely innocent in everything that transpired between them. She walked in and ordered a latte, paid, stuffed a big tip into the jar, and sat at the long table toward the back. She faced south, so she couldn’t see her building, but she knew it was there. The kids were happy and safe inside.
“Hello,” he said, startling her. She didn’t see him walk in.
“Hi,” she said, standing, but immediately regretted it, because it seemed like the normal thing to do, and this was anything but normal. She sat back down. He looked around and chose the seat across from her. She was glad. She didn’t want him to sit next to her. He looked pasty and he had circles under his eyes.
“So after all that, you went to Abigail?” she asked first, because even if that wasn’t where he had been recently, it seemed that was where he had set out to go.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“Why the threat?” she spit out—she just couldn’t wait, couldn’t take the time to build up to it. He looked at her, surprised, that wasn’t what he thought the next question would be. “The threat! At the bottom of the note!”
“Yes,” he said slowly, sitting up a little straighter. “I know. I wrote that at the last minute. I was terrified. I was also surprised you had been so forceful that night. I don’t know what I expected. I think I always thought if I was ever completely honest, if I ever laid it all on the line, you would understand, or, at least I would have a clear way out. But that didn’t happen, and I was scared, and mad. I just wrote it. It was the last thing I did before leaving the house. I guess, if I really had to say, I wanted you to remember that you had done some bad things, too, Tabitha, that you weren’t perfect either.”
“It was awful,” Tabitha said. “Possibly the worst part of your leaving.”
“Well, I think that is very telling then,” Stuart said, sounding a bit more like himself. Tabitha felt a need to take back control of the situation.
“So, you went to see Abigail, and then she died,” she said, not exactly cruelly, but not kindly.
“How did you know that?” he asked.
“The better question would be, ‘What have you been doing since then?’”
“Nothing,” Stuart said. “Basically, staying away from society. I completely fell apart. I haven’t worked. I haven’t done anything.”
“That sounds luxurious,” Tabitha said coldly.
“Not really,” Stuart mumbled.
“Well, I would have liked to do that, too,” Tabitha said. “Just drop out. But I couldn’t. Because I had kids to take care of.”
She took a sip of her latte, but it didn’t taste good anymore.
“Well, thank you for that,” he said. “I am so sorry, for everything. So sorry that she was always pulling at me somehow, even when I didn’t realize it. When I had the chance, this last chance, I just couldn’t pass it up. I had to be with her and try to give her what I could.”
“Interesting that you say that,” Tabitha said. “Because I have reason to believe this was not your first visit to see her. I have reason to believe this was ongoing.”
He just looked at her.
“Was it?”
“Well, to answer what I think you are really asking, which is: was I unfaithful before, the answer is no, if you are thinking of it in a physical way,” he said honestly. “But yes, it’s true that about two years ago I found her. I ran into her, but I was always looking for her, long before that. And she let me see her, in the hospital, that was it, but nothing else happened then, the times I visited her in the hospital, that is. Not until this time.”
Tabitha didn’t know what to think or feel. She didn’t know if that was a relief or not. She just dropped it all into the same pot—her failed marriage.
“You were so dishonest with me, Stuart, from day one,” she said. “You were never available to me, never.”
“I wanted to be,” he said. “But she was always out there.”
“She stole from me,” Tabitha said.
“No, she didn’t, she stole from me,” Stuart said.
“The way I see it, the things she took were meant for me, at least given the choices you made. For example, your love,” Tabitha said unkindly.
He nodded.
“Our money?”
He nodded slower this time.
“Our kids’ happiness?”
He didn’t nod.
“My sanity?”
He looked away.
“I want a divorce,” she said, too loudly for a crowded place like Starbucks.
He didn’t meet her eye but he nodded.
“I want to sell the apartment.”
Another nod.
“I want the kids to go to public school next year.”
“Yes, to all of that, if you think that’s best for them. All I want at this point is to be a part of the kids’ lives, on your terms,” he said quickly. “That’s really all I want.”
She wanted to scream at him. How dare he ask her for anything? He was never Tabitha’s for the taking! Why did he ever pretend he was? Why did he ever let her think he could love her fully, when he was always going to love someone else more? She wanted to spit at him, to kick him in the shin. She wasted so much of her life on him—so much. But then, the image of Levi crying in the rabbi’s office flashed into her mind followed by the memory of Fern walking in curious circles yesterday, making sure her leg was feeling better. And she knew she wouldn’t change a thing, even if she could go back in time, even if she could be transported to the moment she first set eyes on Stuart. She wouldn’t change a thing if it meant not having Levi and Fern. She felt her body relax, which surprised her. She tucked her right leg behind her left leg, not that she was ever really going to kick him, not here at Starbucks anyway.
“Please,” he said. “I did so many bad things. But please, don’t cut me out of the kids’ lives. I know it’s a lot to ask considering . . . what I did. I never meant to hurt them, as strange as this sounds, this was never about them. I want to be their father. I want to be a part of their daily lives.”
She hadn’t realized how much she was hoping for that, despite everything. It was one thing for her to feel abandoned by him, she would get over it, but it was another thing entirely to have Levi and Fern feel abandoned by him.
“So, I’ll set that all in motion, okay?” Tabitha asked. “The divorce, the sale of the apartment, finding them a new school, everything I mentioned.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “But what about the kids? Please, Tabitha, I don’t want to leave here until we talk about that, until we come to some agreement.”
She took a deep breath. She could make him wait, she could hold that over his head while she got everything else set up, just in case they disagreed, but did she even have grounds to keep him from seeing them? And how would that help anything at this point? It would only further hurt the children.
“Fine,” she said.
“Can I take them out to dinner tonight?” he said, sitting forward on his chair. “I am desperate to be with them.”
She still needed to know some things. She wasn’t ready to have this conversation be over, either.
“Let me think about it,” she said. “But first, I have to know, what was the threat about? What would you have told people I did? What, specifically, were you referring to?”
He sat back in his chair and pulled his jacket over his lap.
“I was crazed,” he said, like that explained it. “I hadn’t thought it through.”
“I don’t buy that,” she said. “Clearly you were referring to something.”
“Do you remember those last few days when your mother was sick, and we took turns sitting with her? I was so unhappy then. I tried to hide it, and I felt I owed it to you to do all I could to make things okay between us. So when your mother was so sick and so demanding, I didn’t think you could take it anymore—it had already gone on for so long. That’s when we started talking about the morphine. You were so tired, so out of it. And I wasn’t positive, because we never talked about it, but I was fairly sure you had lost track of how much your mother had had. I could see the panic in your eyes, I saw you reading and rereading those labels over and over. But I was the one who gave her too much. When you weren’t looking, when you were with the kids or taking a quick rest those last two days, I slipped her more and more morphine. I had heard stories of people lingering for weeks and sometimes months. She wasn’t really living anymore, she wasn’t happy. I felt, and still feel, it was a kindness. I thought maybe if she died, the pressure would ease a little and we could be happier together. We could go back to our apartment and try to enjoy our lives. But that wasn’t the case, that was never going to be the case.”
Tabitha felt herself relax even more, though for a brief moment she wondered if she should be even angrier with him for doing that. How dare he? But really, despite everything, he was now giving her gift after gift.
“Oh, okay,” she managed to say. “I wasn’t sure which thing you were referring to. I thought maybe the peanut oil.”
“The peanut oil?” he asked, like it was the last thing he would be referring to. She couldn’t believe it. “No, not the peanut oil. We don’t even know what happened with that. Are you still thinking about it?”
“Forget it,” she said.
“Well,” he said, gathering his jacket like he was thinking of getting up soon. “Thank you for letting me sit with you and talk about these things. I feel like I’ve been to a confessional.”
She took a good look at him, and the truth was, he did look a little lighter.
“Okay, you can take the kids out tonight,” she said quickly, before she changed her mind. But as soon as she’d said it, she did change her mind.
“Terrific,” he said, just as she was about to take back her offer. She could see his eyes brighten with sudden tears that he didn’t wipe away. “That is terrific.”
“Look, honestly, I’m not sure about this,” she said. “I don’t want to make this easy for you.”
Stuart nodded, letting a tear that welled up in his left eye fall down his cheek before he wiped it away. She thought he knew exactly what he was doing, which made her angry all over again, but then she thought of the kids.
“If you ever, ever hurt those kids, or disappoint them, or disappear again, or not show up when they are expecting you, I will stop letting you see them,” she said. She knew his next line would be something about how he’s the lawyer, at least that might have been his next line before, but right away she could see that he wouldn’t say that today.
He just nodded again.
“I’ll have them in the lobby at seven,” she said. “We can sit there and tell them what’s going on before you take them out, okay? We have to start to be honest with them. They deserve to know.”
“I agree,” he said.
She felt herself softening toward him, but only for a moment. She had already given him the best thing—time with the kids. She was still so angry—for all of it—but she was so grateful about the morphine. As completely awful as it was that Stuart had used her confusion about it against her, at least she didn’t have to live with the guilt anymore. She watched as Stuart got up. He hesitated for a second, this was the time he would lean in for a kiss or a hug, and the physical realization that that would never happen again, that they would probably never touch again, had a palpable presence. She still didn’t know where he was staying or what he would do now. She did know that she would start the divorce process the next day. She threw out her latte and bought a Starbucks gift card. She shouldn’t be using Nora’s money, but she reminded herself that she would soon have money from her share of the sale of the apartment and health insurance through her new job—something they were surprisingly generous about. She didn’t even care anymore if she ran into someone she knew in her new office.
She crossed Eighteenth Street to the small grocery store and was happy to see Marlon at his usual check-out lane. He didn’t have a customer at the moment, so she entered his line. He raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Where is your stuff?” She handed him the gift card—her first official payback effort.
“Thank you for helping me that day,” she said. “You will never know how much it means to me.”
“Oh, thank you,” he said, smiling big. He blushed a little and looked down. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It is my pleasure,” she said, before waving and walking out. If she did that once a week for a year, she would have paid everyone back and then some. Next, she would do something for Julie, though she would be a hard one to repay. She’d have to think about that. Tonight she would make a new list of all the people she wanted to thank—of course Holly would be on the list, and the rabbi. And one day, when she had more control of her finances and maybe even had some to spare, though she wasn’t sure when that day would come, she would do something to repay Nora. That would be a very good day.
As Tabitha entered her lobby her phone pinged. She looked at it and saw she had missed two calls from Rachel, but there was a text.
I have good news! it said, with the emoticon of a baby face. Tabitha looked up, she wanted to tell someone, she wanted to be with Rachel. She would see if she was free for lunch. Today, Tabitha would treat her. She would recreate the lunch they had at the Dandelion, minus the champagne and plus the kids—present and future. And then she decided this day, the one right here, was a very good day.
As soon as the kids were out the door with Stuart for dinner, Tabitha walked to the corner of the lobby and called Toby. The discussion with Stuart and the kids had gone surprisingly well, they were just so happy to know the truth, she realized. And now she wanted more than anything to speak to Toby. She thought he might not answer—she would deserve that—but he did, on the first ring. Or at least someone did. The phone was answered, but nothing was said.
“I need help,” she said, hoping she was speaking to Toby. “I need your help.”
“Well, that’s a coincidence,” he said. “Because I could use some help myself.”
As soon as she heard his voice she knew she wanted to be with him more than she had ever wanted to be with anyone.
“I’ll help you,” she said. “What can I do?”
“For starters, you can agree to see me,” he said.
Tabitha laughed.
“That’s easy,” she said.
“And you can spend another hour at a hotel with me someday,” he said.
“Easy again,” she said, smiling so big she thought she must have looked like a clown.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“Well, you can start by coming over,” she said.
“Done.”
“And I need you to call someone for me,” she said, not smiling anymore. “I have to find out what happened to my customer. The one with the allergy who ate the peanut oil.”
“I will gladly make that call,” Toby said. “And I hope what we find out is good news. If it isn’t, I will be there for you. I will always be there for you.”
“When can you get here?” she asked. She thought she’d run upstairs and change, maybe shower. She’d blow-dry her hair. There was a long pause, and she wondered if he was reconsidering. And suddenly there he was, walking into the building holding his cell phone to his ear.
“Have you just been waiting out there all this time?” she asked, confused. “Were you stalking me?”
“Let’s just say I’ve spent a lot of time at the Fox & Hound lately, hoping you would show up.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, ending the call and talking directly to him. “I just needed some time to think and work things out, and I think I have, or at least I have begun to.”
“I am so glad to hear that,” he said.
They went upstairs together, and without a word, Tabitha dug out her file. She went right to the number she had as a contact for the couple. She handed it to Toby. She did not want to change her mind. He took it and dialed, slowly, then let it ring.
A man answered, Tabitha could hear his deep voice. She held her breath.
“I’m looking for Ethan, is he there?”
“That’s me,” the voice said. Tabitha could hear it through the phone.
She eased herself to the ground.
“I’m calling from the Food Allergy Association to see if you would be willing to take an important survey,” Toby said.
“Sure,” she could hear Ethan say on the other side of the call.
“So, this is the right Ethan, the one with the peanut allergy?”
“That’s me,” he boomed again. “Hey, how did you get my name?”
“There’s a data bank,” Toby said in his own kind tone. Nobody would ever doubt him.
“Oh sure,” Ethan said. “Now?”
“Hang up,” Tabitha whispered giddily.
Toby pointed to the phone as if to say, “Are you sure?”
She nodded her head enthusiastically.
“We’re just lining up participants now,” Toby said. “I’ll have someone call you to set up a good time.”
“Sounds good,” Ethan said.
“Thank you so much,” Toby said, and ended the call. He eased to the floor next to her. She didn’t say anything for a full thirty seconds, and she could see Toby was looking at her, ready to explain what just transpired, as if she needed it to be explained to her. She felt so much building up, a sigh, tears, laughter. It all came out at the same time, and as they sat there, mostly laughing, Tabitha could feel her worry and fear slipping away. She hadn’t quite realized how much that had weighed.
“Now, I need help,” he said seriously.
“I thought I already helped you. I let you come over, didn’t I?” she said, teasing, not wanting to give in to his apparent mood shift yet. She still wanted to be here, focusing on this monumental discovery. She had that feeling she got when she carried one of the kids’ backpacks that was so ridiculously heavy that she had no idea how they didn’t bend over backward when it was on them, and then they took it from her for the last block, and she felt propelled forward by the sudden lightness. But Toby had given this to her, so she would try to give him what he needed.
“Okay, okay,” she said now. “What can I do to help you?”
“I don’t know exactly,” he said. “I have to figure out a way to live with myself after what I did to Jane. I need to do that so I can honestly and openly move on—with you. Telling you was helpful, but how can I make it better? How can I pay my penance?”
Tabitha thought again about her question of whether unsolicited drugs played a part. But she could see that he and Jane were long past that at this point. What he was really talking about now was making amends for the havoc it all caused.
“Have you talked to her? Have you said you were sorry?” Even as Tabitha said these words, she wondered if they were the right ones. Apologizing was one thing, opening the door to mending their marriage was another. Though she was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen.
“I have,” he said. “And she is happy now. She just got engaged. I just found out a few days ago. I am really, really happy for her.”
“Wow, that’s something,” Tabitha said. “That’s a big something. But I do have this idea, which is to do something nice for someone once a week, or maybe even once a day for an entire year. I don’t mean my kids, or you, or Rachel, because I always want to do nice things for you guys, of course, but I mean the people I took from, stole from really, and the people who helped me, and also people I don’t know, strangers who need help.”
Toby didn’t say anything, and she thought he must be thinking she was even more of a crackpot than he realized, thinking that if she went out and sprinkled glitter around, things would magically be okay.
“I want to start now,” he said, surprising her. “What can I do?”
“Really?” she said, sitting up. “I don’t know. We could go out into the Square, and you can do something for a homeless person, maybe. You’ve already started to do that, now that I think about it, by giving away the bread, so that counts for something. I would say we could go out there now and offer a few sandwiches, but I still haven’t gone shopping, and I have absolutely no food in the house.”
“I do,” he said, pointing toward his bag. “I’ve got a bunch of things from the buffet at the bar—I know how much you like that. Tacos, chicken wings, you name it. The spread isn’t quite what it was, now that football season is morphing into basketball season, but it still looked good.”
She smiled. That was classic Toby, as good as naming his dog Yo-Adrian. How lucky was she that she was going to get to be an official part of it all?
He jumped up and held out his hand to her. She let him pull her to standing.
“Are you game?” he asked.
“It was my idea, wasn’t it?”
They put on jackets and he grabbed his bag. He was quiet in the elevator, and when they got out in the lobby, he stopped.
“This is silly, right?” he said. “Giving a homeless person tacos and wings is not going to take away the fact that I slept with my ex-wife’s cousin and ruined our family unit for my daughter. It is not going to fix the fact that I took an oath that was meant to last a lifetime, but in a matter of minutes I hacked it all to hell. Nothing is going to take that away.”
“No, of course not, nothing is going to take that away, but I have this idea now that we take and we give, right? And it isn’t always to the same people. Sometimes you take from one but give to another. So, you did some bad things, one really bad thing. I did some bad things, though, I am so happy to say, I did not do as many bad things as I thought I did—though still plenty. If we try to even that out with good, that is something. Really, that’s all we can do.”
Toby smiled. He put his arm around her as they walked out into the frigid night air. Tabitha wondered if the kids were having a good dinner with Stuart. She hoped so. She hoped he would come back to Philadelphia and be a part of their regular lives. It sounded to her like that was his plan. She hoped she would be able to find a small apartment, keep her new job, be with Toby. Across the street she stopped and leaned into him. He leaned back.
“Dare I say: ‘And they lived happily ever after’?” Toby said jokingly, his lips on the top of her head. She could feel them move as he talked.
“No!” she said, pulling back. “Don’t ever say that!”
“Why not?”
“Nobody lives completely happily ever after—haven’t you realized that by now? The pressure is too great. I don’t want that pressure. How about: ‘And they were not perfect, and they had many things to atone for, but they had a lot of fun and could eventually afford light bulbs and everything bagels.’”
He nodded and pulled her back toward him.
“I can live with that,” he said. “Now let me go start this long process of canceling out the bad with a little good. I wish I had brought blankets for someone. It is so cold out here.”
“Next time,” Tabitha said. “We’ll do that next time.”