know what was in it, whether he’d poisoned it, whether he’d spit in it, but she was so thirsty she downed almost all of it in one gulp. When she was finished, he took the clean side of the handkerchief and wiped her mouth.
Then he handed her two small pills. She looked at him, looked at the pills.
“You must have a bad headache,” he said. “This will make you feel better.”
Then he smiled at her.
She didn’t know how he knew about her headache, but if the pills would help…
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Hurts,” she moaned.
“It won’t for long.”
She looked at him. He was wearing a wedding ring. It was polished and it gleamed something pretty.
He stood up. Motioned for her to do the same. The girl stood up reluctantly, then smelled the aroma of pancakes coming from somewhere. Her favorite.
“Strawberry and chocolate chip. Fresh off the griddle,” he said, smiling. “Let’s get you fed, you can meet your new mommy and new brother, and then I’ll show you to your room.”
She took the man’s hand, his grip gentle, and followed him out of the darkness.
11
I t would have been easy to say no. For years she’d grown accustomed to disappointments, to a life that never quite went the way she planned.
The wound still hurt terribly. Doing this could rub salt in deep. And who knows? Another few weeks, few months, and the pain might have begun to die down. And given a few years, she might have never thought about him again. Things would have gone back to the way they were before the day they met.
None of that mattered, though, because when Henry called, for the first time in months his voice coming over the phone, she agreed to meet him almost immediately.
Just a few years ago, Amanda had nothing, no friends, nobody to trust but herself. Her life had been a series of halfhearted relationships, embarked upon mainly because that’s what she assumed was normal. That’s what she was used to. Men who were more interested in their own success than how it could be used to make others happy. She’d grown weary of that scene, and at some point, like many other girls her age, Amanda Davies had simply given up.
The irony was when she’d met Henry, the very first thing he did was lie right to her face. Looking back, she knew he’d done it to save his own life without implicating her. And while back then she contemplated literally ditching him on the side of the road, she could look back at his brazen behavior fondly.
He’d tricked her into giving him a ride out of town when he was mistakenly wanted for murder. In the end Henry was able to clear his name, yet there was a moment, that moment when he’d come clean, admitting his lie, when she could have left him on the side of the road to die. But in that moment Amanda was able to look into Henry Parker’s eyes and tell one thing. This was more real than anyone she’d ever known.
Henry’s eyes gave away everything. The year they knew each other, he could never hide anything. She could read his language—words and body—like nobody else. And he offered himself in a way that was both selfless and confident, and utterly consuming.
That’s why when he ended their relationship, it wasn’t simply another thing to forget. Being with him was the first time Amanda felt a future. She couldn’t be the only one who thought that way, though, so when he decided to end it, for her own sake in his words, she didn’t fight. She didn’t want to be another one of those sad girls, trying to convince a guy to stay.
If she was meant to be happy, she would be. If not, that was life.
So when Henry called her out of the blue, after radio silence for nearly six months, the easy thing to do would have been to hang up. To tell him to go screw himself.
Instead she found herself sitting on a bench in Madison Square Park, waiting for him to arrive, looking at every boy that walked by, waiting to see if the months had been as cruel to him as they had to her.
The
Then he handed her two small pills. She looked at him, looked at the pills.
“You must have a bad headache,” he said. “This will make you feel better.”
Then he smiled at her.
She didn’t know how he knew about her headache, but if the pills would help…
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Hurts,” she moaned.
“It won’t for long.”
She looked at him. He was wearing a wedding ring. It was polished and it gleamed something pretty.
He stood up. Motioned for her to do the same. The girl stood up reluctantly, then smelled the aroma of pancakes coming from somewhere. Her favorite.
“Strawberry and chocolate chip. Fresh off the griddle,” he said, smiling. “Let’s get you fed, you can meet your new mommy and new brother, and then I’ll show you to your room.”
She took the man’s hand, his grip gentle, and followed him out of the darkness.
11
I t would have been easy to say no. For years she’d grown accustomed to disappointments, to a life that never quite went the way she planned.
The wound still hurt terribly. Doing this could rub salt in deep. And who knows? Another few weeks, few months, and the pain might have begun to die down. And given a few years, she might have never thought about him again. Things would have gone back to the way they were before the day they met.
None of that mattered, though, because when Henry called, for the first time in months his voice coming over the phone, she agreed to meet him almost immediately.
Just a few years ago, Amanda had nothing, no friends, nobody to trust but herself. Her life had been a series of halfhearted relationships, embarked upon mainly because that’s what she assumed was normal. That’s what she was used to. Men who were more interested in their own success than how it could be used to make others happy. She’d grown weary of that scene, and at some point, like many other girls her age, Amanda Davies had simply given up.
The irony was when she’d met Henry, the very first thing he did was lie right to her face. Looking back, she knew he’d done it to save his own life without implicating her. And while back then she contemplated literally ditching him on the side of the road, she could look back at his brazen behavior fondly.
He’d tricked her into giving him a ride out of town when he was mistakenly wanted for murder. In the end Henry was able to clear his name, yet there was a moment, that moment when he’d come clean, admitting his lie, when she could have left him on the side of the road to die. But in that moment Amanda was able to look into Henry Parker’s eyes and tell one thing. This was more real than anyone she’d ever known.
Henry’s eyes gave away everything. The year they knew each other, he could never hide anything. She could read his language—words and body—like nobody else. And he offered himself in a way that was both selfless and confident, and utterly consuming.
That’s why when he ended their relationship, it wasn’t simply another thing to forget. Being with him was the first time Amanda felt a future. She couldn’t be the only one who thought that way, though, so when he decided to end it, for her own sake in his words, she didn’t fight. She didn’t want to be another one of those sad girls, trying to convince a guy to stay.
If she was meant to be happy, she would be. If not, that was life.
So when Henry called her out of the blue, after radio silence for nearly six months, the easy thing to do would have been to hang up. To tell him to go screw himself.
Instead she found herself sitting on a bench in Madison Square Park, waiting for him to arrive, looking at every boy that walked by, waiting to see if the months had been as cruel to him as they had to her.
The
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