“There you go, nailing our audience again. Wives! And how would you wake up these Einsteinian wives? Using TV’s time-tested waker-uppers: jokes, clothes, authority—and, of course, food. For instance, when you throw a dinner party, I bet everyone wants to come.”
“I’ve never thrown a dinner party.”
“Sure, you have,” he said. “I bet you and Mr. Zott throw them all the—”
“There is no Mr. Zott, Walter,” Elizabeth interrupted. “I’m unmarried. The truth is, I’ve never been married.”
“Oh,” Walter gasped, visibly taken aback. “Well. That is certainly interesting. But would you mind? I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but would you mind never mentioning that to anyone? Specifically to Lebensmal, my boss? Or really—anyone?”
“I loved Madeline’s father,” she explained, her brow slightly furrowed. “It’s just that I couldn’t marry him.”
“It was an affair,” Walter said sympathetically, dropping his voice. “He was stepping out on his wife. Was that it?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “We loved each other completely. In fact, we’d been living together for—”
“That would be another great thing never to mention,” Walter interrupted. “Never.”
“—two years. We were soulmates.”
“How nice,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m sure it’s all in order. But still, that’s not the sort of thing we need to tell anyone. Ever. Although I’m sure you had plans to marry him at some point.”
“I didn’t,” she said quietly. “But more to the point, he died.” And with those words, her face clouded with despair.
Walter was shocked by her sudden shift in character. She had a way about her—an authority that he knew the camera would love—but she was also fragile. Poor thing. Without thinking twice, he put his arms around her. “I’m deeply sorry,” he said, pulling her in.
“So am I,” she muffled into his shoulder. “So am I.”
He flinched. Such loneliness. He patted her back as he did with Amanda, communicating, as best he could, that he wasn’t just sorry for her loss but understood it. Had he ever been in love like that? No. But now he had a very good idea what it looked like.
“I apologize,” she said, pulling away, surprised at how much she’d needed that hug.
“It’s okay,” he said gently. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“Regardless,” she said, straightening up, “I should know better than to speak of it. I’ve already been fired for it once.”
For the third time that morning, Walter flinched. When she said “it,” he wasn’t sure what she meant. Had she been fired for killing her lover? Or for being an unwed mother? Both explanations were plausible, but he far preferred the second one.
“I killed him,” she admitted softly, eliminating his preference. “I insisted he use a leash and he died. Six-Thirty has never been the same.”
“That’s terrible,” Walter said in an even lower voice, because even though he didn’t understand what she’d said about the leash or the six thirty time zone, he understood what she’d meant. She’d made a choice and it had ended badly. He’d done the very same thing. And both of their bad choices resulted in small people who now bore the brunt of their parents’ poor choices. “I’m so very sorry.”
“I’m sorry for you, too,” she said, trying to regain her composure. “Your divorce.”
“Oh, don’t be,” he said, waving his hand, embarrassed that his lurch at love could be compared in any way to hers. “It wasn’t like your situation. Mine didn’t have anything to do with love. Amanda isn’t even technically mine in the DNA sense of things,” he blurted without meaning to. In fact, he’d only just found out three weeks ago.
His ex-wife had long insinuated that he wasn’t Amanda’s biological father, but he’d figured she’d only said it to hurt him. Sure, he and Amanda didn’t look alike, but plenty of children don’t look like their parents. Every time he held Amanda in his arms, he knew she was his; he could sense the deep, permanent biological connection. But his ex-wife’s cruel insistence ate at him, and when paternity testing finally became available, he produced a blood sample. Five days later, he knew the truth. He and Amanda were total strangers.