Is that okay?" She shrugged. The elaborate overdone shrug of a child who has decided that whatever face she shows needs to communicate that she is fine and also that she needs him to know she's not entirely fine and he should figure out which one she actually means. I'll be back by 10. He said Mrs.
Perkins will be here. You can stay up till 9. 9:30. She counted immediately. 9:15.
She thought about it. Okay. He watched her. Amara, you can ask me. She looked at her plate, then up at him.
Is it a date? 6 years. She was 9 years old and had never once asked him that question. Daniel was quiet for a moment. I don't know yet, he said.
I'm going to dinner with a friend and I'm going to figure out what it is. Is it the person from the fancy car? This kid? Yes, he said. Amara looked at Gerald.
Then back at Daniel. Is she nice? She's complicated, he said. Honestly. Amara appeared to find this deeply satisfying.
"Mom was complicated," she said simply. "You said that all the time." Daniels chest cracked open about 3 in. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I did."
Amara picked up her fork and resumed eating with the decisive energy of someone who has processed an emotional situation and is ready to move forward. "Okay," she said. "But 9:30." 9:15. Dad, 9:15.
Amara Renee, she grumbled. But she smiled. He got to the restaurant, a small Italian place in Lincoln Park that he had never been to, owned by a family who had been in the same location for 31 years. At 6:58, Victoria was already there. She was at a corner table facing the door, and she was wearing something different from anything he'd seen her in at work.
Dark green, simple, the kind of thing that suggested she had thought carefully about what to wear and then picked the thing that looked effortless. She stood when she saw him. Neither of them reached for a handshake. It would have been absurd and they both knew it. "You came," she said.
"You seem surprised." "A little," she admitted. They sat. For the first several minutes, they talked about safe things, the restaurant's history, the menu, a wine neither of them was particularly focused on. The conversation had the slightly careful quality of two people who know each other in one context trying to recalibrate for another, like a piece of furniture moved to a new room.