Bert turned and walked out of the room. His wife came running behind him soon after, her eyes wet. Eleanor put her arms around his middle from behind and placed her head against his back.
“Bert,” she said, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.
Then Eleanor did what Eleanor did best in their relationship. She just stayed there, without moving, without speaking, letting him know that she was there, that’s all. Once, a long time ago, they had nearly lost each other for good. They had nearly lost their chance to have this beautiful family they had made together. After that, she had never left his side.
“Just give me a moment, okay?” he said. “Just a moment. Then I’ll go back and talk to her.” But when Bert and Eleanor went back to the living room, Benny was gone and the first Thanksgiving guests were already coming in through the kitchen door. And Bert never did understand much about that day.
If Only
If only Bert had known that he would be gone in six months, he would have stepped out of the car. He would have crossed the street, he would have rapped on the plate-glass window, he would have smiled. Instead, he remained in the back of a taxi outside the restaurant in New York where Benny was working, watching his daughter through the glass. He wanted to talk to her, but to say what? A year had passed and he still didn’t feel comfortable with this life of hers. If it had been anyone else, anyone but his own child, he would have let them be. Would have said, to each his own, love is what counts. But this was his baby girl.
Young people had always wanted to do things their own way, and Bert had been no different. Only nowadays, there seemed to be this compulsion to eat up everything that was available to you and to let everybody know about it in real time, without figuring out things for yourself first. No, love was not the only thing that counted. What people could say or do to hurt you also mattered. This, perhaps, was what he would say to Benny if he could bring himself to do so: What are you willing to do? And is it worth it?
What was Benny doing all the way out here on the East Coast, anyway? Did she even have any friends in New York? Did she understand friendship the way he and Benny’s mother did? And what about loyalty? The girl had moved here without even sending them her new address, just because Bert and Eleanor hadn’t been able to pretend that everything was all right with them. She had let go of them that easily. Did she have any idea what it had taken for them to build a life for her and her brother?
It took work to keep tabs on Benny. For the second time in a row, Bert had told his wife he was going to a meeting out of state, but how many work commitments could a lawyer licensed only in the state of California claim to have outside of California in the space of a year? Their state had been the first to develop proper anti-stalking laws. If he weren’t Benny’s father, he’d accuse his own self of stalking his daughter. But Bert had needed to see Benny with his own two eyes. And he didn’t want to say anything to Eleanor about this until he could figure out what to say to Benny.
He watched as Benny helped an elderly woman on with her coat. Look at how gentle she was. His daughter still had a good dose of respect in her. She had always been a bighearted child. But something had changed. After they’d argued that Thanksgiving, Bert was surprised to come back into the living room to find that Benny had left the house, dismayed when she didn’t come back for dinner, with all those people coming over, no less, and later, angry that she didn’t even call to apologize. It just wasn’t Benny’s way. Never used to be, at any rate.
That day, Benny had accused Bert of not being open-minded, but Benny was the one who had grown more closed, less patient in recent years, less willing to face the questions of others. She had run off because she couldn’t face Bert and her mother, couldn’t accept that they had their doubts. And when had anyone in their family ever worried about whether other people approved?
Where would they be today if Bert had been afraid to go to law classes at night, the only black man and the oldest student in the group? Where would he be today if he’d been afraid to move to a state with all those waxy-looking plants and rattlesnakes and earthquakes and chirpy-talking people? Where would he be today if he had been afraid to raise a family with a woman who could not permit herself to have a past? Who could not permit Bert to have a past? He wondered, sometimes, about his uncle and cousins back on the island. Wished he could pick up the phone and find out how they were doing. But a move like that could ruin his life.
Bert shifted in his seat and poked at the spot where he’d been having that pain. As he watched his daughter now, as she nodded and smiled at the woman, he found himself nodding along. He was worrying too much, wasn’t he? She was still his Benny, just look at her. She was still young. She would find her way, she would get her life back on track. She would come back to him and her mother, someday, his beautiful baby girl.