Read the letter tonight or tomorrow. Daniel stared at the coin. That is a terrible way to make emotional decisions. My father raised me. That explains several things.
He took the coin, tossed it, caught it against his hand. Laura leaned closer. Well, Daniel looked, then closed his fingers and slipped the coin into his pocket. Laura stared. You're stealing my coin.
I'll return it when I've done what it told me. What did it tell you? Daniel picked up the wooden box. That would defeat the purpose. He headed toward the car.
Laura followed. For the first time, she was not sure she wanted the answer quickly, only that she wanted to be there when he gave it. That evening, Frank insisted the dinner was small, which apparently meant six people, two pies, enough roast chicken for 12, and Norah arriving with a casserole no one had requested. Michael Bennett showed up 20 minutes late with his wife Susan and stopped when he saw Daniel. He looked at Laura, then Daniel, then Laura again.
Well, Laura pointed at him. Don't I haven't said anything. You inherited dad's face. Frank looked offended. My face is excellent.
Michael ignored him. So, you met on a plane? Yes, Laura said. And he's sleeping at Dad's. Daniel lifted one hand.
Guest room. Michael nodded. That clarification helped enormously. Susan laughed into her wine. Laura closed her eyes.
Frank carved the chicken. He cost me $20. That sounds worse. Michael said it was a bet. That also sounds worse.
Laura reached for the potatoes. Can we discuss literally anything else? Norah looked at Daniel. How was the coffee this morning? We survived it.
Frank put down the carving knife. This is my house. Then you have the power to buy better beans. Michael stared at Daniel. Oh, I understand now.
Laura looked at him. Understand what? Why dad kept him? Frank nodded. Useful man.
Laura kicked Michael under the table. For a while, dinner stayed easy. They talked about Frank's birthday gathering and Norah's refusal to trust anyone under 60 with folding chairs. Daniel listened more than he spoke. Laura noticed he seemed comfortable around her family without trying to impress them.
That bothered her slightly, mostly because she liked it. Michael reached for another helping. You're still here after dessert, by the way. Laura looked up. What?
You usually leave before pie. I do not. You absolutely do. Frank said nothing, which meant Michael was right. Susan glanced at Laura.
Didn't you leave before dessert at the anniversary dinner last year, too? The table went quiet. Laura's hand stopped on her glass. Frank looked down. He knew the date.
Last year's dinner had fallen on what would have been Laura's 25th wedding anniversary. She had made it through soup, then driven home before anyone could ask why she kept looking at the empty chair beside her. Daniel did not know that. I had an early morning, she said. Frank spoke before Michael could.
You always have an early morning when things get difficult. Laura turned toward him. Dad, what? Not here. I'm not analyzing you.