He chose the job closest to her school. He chose the apartment with the neighbor who became like family. He turned down anything that required him to be less present regardless of what it paid or what it offered or what it might have meant for his future. He didn't go out. He didn't pursue anything for himself.
Not because he was punishing himself, but because the math of a single father's life is unforgiving, and he had decided consciously that everything he had went to Amara first, it had been working. Amara was by every measure that mattered to Daniel a healthy, loved, confident 9-year-old who still let him call her by the nickname she'd had since she was too sunny and who had recently decided she wanted to be either a marine biologist or a professional baker and saw no reason why she couldn't be both. His life was not glamorous, but it was solid. It was his and he had built every piece of it himself from the ground up without asking for help. Because asking for help meant admitting vulnerability and vulnerability meant risk and risk.
Risk was something Daniel Brooks had not been able to afford for 6 years. Can I ask you something? Victoria said. They were about 12 minutes from his neighborhood. Sure, he said.
Why did you cover Marcus Tillett's hospital bill? Daniel's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Who told you that? Marcus told me eventually after I kept asking. She paused.
He was embarrassed that it took him 6 months to tell me. He said he'd wanted to pay you back and you wouldn't allow it. Marcus needed help. Daniel said, "That's it. That's not an answer to my question."
"Yes, it is." She glanced at him again, the street lights catching her face for a moment. "You work 48 hours a week. You're a single father. You take the train to work because your car needs a repair you haven't prioritized.
She said it without judgment, but without softening it either. And you covered $2,000 of someone else's medical bill. Marcus has a wife and two kids. Daniel said his voice was even controlled. He was going to lose a week of work recovering from that procedure, and he was already behind on rent.
What was I supposed to do? Watch that happen and go home and sleep fine? Most people would. I'm not most people. A long quiet settled between them.
No, Victoria said softly. You're not. Daniel looked out the window. It wasn't a big deal, he said. It was a very big deal, she said.
And you know what bothered me most when Marcus told me? He waited. That you didn't tell anyone. You didn't want credit. You didn't want recognition.
You just did it and went back to work. What else would I do? Most people would have at least mentioned it. Made sure it was known. Used it.