He kept it because he planned to return it himself. Not mail it, not send it through Norah. Hand it back face to face. He never did. Daniel lowered the letter.
Frank turned the watch in his palm. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he wound it. Nothing, he tried again. Still nothing.
Figures, Frank said. Daniel glanced at him. It survived a fire and 30 years of your father's drawers. Daniel laughed quietly. Frank's thumb moved across the scorched edge.
Then his face changed, not dramatically. Just enough. I would have opened the door. Daniel stopped smiling. Neither man looked at the other.
Laura did not move. After a while, Frank asked, "What are you putting off?" Daniel folded the letter. "Nothing." Frank raised an eyebrow.
"Samuel taught me not to trust men who say nothing." Daniel looked toward the street. There's a partnership offer in Richmond. Yes. And you haven't answered.
No. Why? Daniel looked at the letter. My company wants me here permanently. Frank smiled faintly. That sounds dangerous for me, apparently.
You don't like Richmond? I do. Then what? Daniel exhaled. I've spent 20 years moving where the projects are.
Hotels, short leases, airports. Frank waited. If I stay somewhere, I have to build a life there. That sounds like what houses are for. You make it sound simple.
It isn't. Daniel looked toward the yard. Travel makes leaving look practical. Laura's fingers tightened against the wall. She understood immediately.
She left before dessert. Daniel left before a place had time to become home. Different habits, same exit. Frank glanced toward the window. He knew she was there.
He did not call her out. What happens if you take the partnership? Daniel looked at the porch rail. I stop having a reason to keep moving. And if you don't, I keep one.
Frank lifted the dead watch slightly. I recommend not waiting 30 years to learn whether your reason was good. Daniel nodded. Later, Laura tried on a blue dress for Frank's birthday party. Then black pants, then the dress again.
In the end, she chose something simpler. When she came downstairs, Frank was sorting birthday cards. He looked up. Expecting someone? Laura answered before thinking.
He's already here. She stopped. Frank did not smile, did not tease. He only placed another $20 bill on the table beside Laura's half-dollar. Then he set Laura's half dollar beside it.
Laura looked toward the guest room. For the first time, she was not wondering whether Daniel would leave. She was wondering what it might mean if he chose to stay. By 7 that evening, the community center barely looked like the same room. Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling.
Folding tables were covered with white cloths. Someone had placed framed photographs from Frank's firefighting years near the entrance, including one Laura had never seen before. Frank and Samuel stood beside the old engine, both younger than Daniel was now. Daniel noticed it. He did not say anything.