“Sure,” said Gen. “Of course. I’ll contact him and let you know what he says. And I guess if he backs out, then we’ll know it was all some kind of hoax.”
“And if he tries to assassinate me, I’ll sue you into oblivion.” Daniel smiled beatifically, and Gen just laughed.
“No offense, but I don’t think you’re quite at the ‘assassination’ level,” she said. “I think you still just get ‘murdered.’”
“Well it’s all the same in the end, isn’t it?” said Daniel.
I felt an irrational pang of jealousy.
“Well, Genevieve,” I said, cutting into their banter, “thank you so much for your help. And thanks for bringing this to my attention. We really owe you one.”
“Well, that remains to be seen,” said Daniel.
“I’ll make sure you meet in a public place,” said Gen, sensibly. “And I’ll know where you are. Safety first.”
“Sure,” said Daniel. “That’s easy for you to say.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay, I think we’d better be going now. Daniel?”
“What?” he looked down at me. “I don’t think we’re in any particular rush.”
“I’d like to get dinner started,” I fibbed. I had absolutely no idea what I was making for dinner. In fact, I was pretty sure all we had around were a few potatoes that were starting to grow tentacles. I turned to Genevieve. “Again - thank you.”
“Anytime,” she replied. “Which is…on reflection, an absurd thing to say in this particular scenario.”
“I’ll forgive the lapse,” said Daniel, smiling.
By the time we got to the car, I thought I might actually be turning green.
“Dinner?” Daniel turned to me and queried, as I hit the driver partition button that would separate us from John. He looked like he might be on the verge of saying something else, before I clambered over his lap and covered his mouth with mine.
He made a small noise of surprise, but his hands clasped my waist and pulled me down closer, almost by instinct.
I was all over him - kissing my way down his jaw, his neck, while my fingers clumsily picked at his shirt buttons. I had undone them a thousand times, but suddenly, they seemed impossible.
He chuckled, his breath hot against my skin.
“Every time,” he said. “You know she’s no threat to you.”
I gave him a sharp look. “You’d better not be complaining.”
“I think you know very well that I’m not.” He shifted his hips, pressing himself against me to punctuate the point. I sighed, my lips parting and eyes closing of their own accord.
“We don’t have much time, you know,” he said quietly, his hands gripping my ass.
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” I said, grinning. I shifted slightly so that I could reach down and unzip his pants. He bit his lip as I reached in and grabbed him.
“I don’t know,” he exhaled, “if that was meant to be an insult or not. But just for good measure, when we get home, you’re in for a spanking.”
“Oh, no,” I said, frowning as I lowered myself onto him. “Maybe I can make it up to you somehow.” I smiled as he slid all the way home, and I was nestled snugly on his lap, my thighs spread over him. “Change your mind.”
He made a soft growling noise that he knew drove me absolutely wild - and then, there was no more talking for quite a while. It was fast and hot, with me undulating on top of him while he whispered encouragements and slipped his fingers into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around them the way I knew he liked, a hot implicit promise of some future encounter, yet to be determined.
I tossed my hair as I rode him, smiling, reveling in the way he looked at me. Like there was absolutely no one else in the entire world. His fingers dug into my soft flesh and I let myself moan his name. Normally I would stifle myself - it felt like such artifice that it actually embarrassed me. And even if I forgot about doing it, he’d always tease me afterwards. But every once in a while, I would just let it slip.
Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.
It was what echoed in my head with every breath, every heartbeat, when we were together like this. I was beginning to grow lightheaded, like there wasn’t enough air to breathe in this little space, but all I wanted to breathe was him. My fingers clutched at his shoulders, leaving little wrinkled marks on the perfectly starched material.
Maybe it was strange, but I always wish I could muss his hair the way he did mine. But no matter what I did, his loose dark curls would just fall back exactly where they wanted to be. Me, on the other hand - all he had to do was run his fingers through my hair and it would never set in the same way again. Like he was leaving a semi-permanent mark on me, every time we touched. It certainly felt like it.
I tilted my head back, and I felt him run his fingers down my throat, like he was tracing it to remember the exact shape. The specific way it curved, whenever he was made me feel like this. Like I was going to explode at any moment. Like I was on the verge of dying the most glorious death imaginable.
We finished remarkably quietly, together, in such a well-synchronized series of jerky movements and short, panting breaths that I almost wanted to laugh afterwards.
I noticed, all of a sudden, that the car had stopped moving. I heard a single light tap on the window, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps on the sidewalk.
“What a gentleman,” I said, referring to John.
“He’s quite the consummate professional,” said Daniel, with a smile that lit up his whole face.
***
It was an unseasonably warm day. John let us out at the first available spot, then went to circle the block while he waited for us. I wondered how short Daniel intended for this meeting to be, exactly.
We approached the seating area slowly. It was crawling with people, some talking, sharing coffee, or playing chess. My eyes swept the crowd, even though I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for.
As soon as I saw him, I knew.
It was eerie, how alike they were. And not just in their appearance - Mr. Thorne had a subtly different face, and he was taller - but their bearing, the way they held their heads. The color of their eyes. I followed Daniel as he walked, standing beside him when he stopped. My hands were clasped in front of me and I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do.
“Hello,” said Mr. Thorne, at last.
Daniel just nodded, tightly. He rested his hand on my shoulder.
“This is my wife,” he said. “Maddy. But you already know that, I suppose.”
Mr. Thorne smiled, extending his hand to me. I shook it firmly. I didn’t really know what was expected of me, but I figured I might as well be courteous to the man.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, which sounded absurd under the circumstances.
“Likewise,” said my father-in-law.
He made a move to go sit down at one of the tables, and I followed, Daniel tailing behind me somewhat reluctantly. I didn’t know what he’d expected to happen. Did he think his father would be content with just a quick “hello” after all these years?
Of course, he hadn’t expected to see his father at all. As we sat down, I searched his face for some sign of shock or even mild surprise. But he seemed resigned to it, which solidified my idea that he hadn’t really cared, one way or the other. Whether his father was alive or dead, he really never wanted to see the man again.
But here we were. There was no turning back from it.
This will be good for him. For both of them. For us. I had to keep reassuring myself of that, no matter how unsure I was.
I rested my hand on my stomach, unthinkingly. I couldn’t feel a difference yet, but I’d been assured I would - and soon.
“So,” said Daniel. “Why did you want to meet?”
He was being cold and disingenuous, just the same as with journalists that he didn’t like. I thought it was a bit much, but then again, I couldn’t really blame him.
“I just wanted to see you again,” said Mr. Thorne. He tilted his head vaguely in my direction. “I wanted to meet your wife. I wanted to find out if it was true, what I read in the paper.”
“Regardless,” said Daniel, “I think you’re the one who owes me some answers.”
Mr. Thorne steepled his fingers together. “I think that’s fair.” He took a deep breath. “When I left, I really thought I was never coming back. I thought you - you and your sister - would be better off without me.”
Daniel’s lip was twitching like he wanted, badly, to sneer a little. I laid my hand on his arm.
“I’d reached a point in my life,” his father went on, “where there didn’t seem to be any way to go on I realized I was too much of a coward to kill myself. But if I faked my death, I could go on. I could start over. I could set out and make a new life for myself, and I wouldn’t have to keep thinking about all the mistakes I’d made.”
He paused, letting out a long breath and unlacing his fingers. “I wasn’t really…thinking rationally.”
“You don’t say,” Daniel muttered.
“But back then, it did seem like the solution. Not a good one, but a solution. There are no good solutions to that kind of situation, I don’t think.”
He looked up at us for a moment, as if seeking some sort of validation. Daniel just looked at him as if he’d landed from another planet.
“Of course I regret it now,” Mr. Thorne said. “Looking back on it, it’s hard to believe that person was me. I’d never make a decision like that now. Not in a thousand years. But the fact of the matter is that I did once, and now I have to deal with the consequences of that decision.”
“And what are those consequences, exactly?” Daniel asked, very softly.
Mr. Thorne cleared his throat. “Missing so many years with my son and my daughter,” he said, his voice sounding just slightly strained. “And of course, the possibility that neither one of you is going to want to be around me. I wouldn’t blame you, but it would mean I’ve made the kind of mistake I can’t come back from.” He paused for a moment. “And that…that, I don’t know how I would face.”
“If you’re trying to send me on a guilt trip…” Daniel started.
“I’m not.” Mr. Thorne looked up from the table again, and I swore that his eyes looked slightly misty. “Do you remember that Christmas you wanted the remote control car?”
“Yes,” said Daniel, tightly.
“I was so proud of you,” he said. “Because you didn’t cry. I thought - I thought you were going to grow up into exactly the kind of man I wanted you to be.” He swallowed, audibly. “You have no idea how many times I’ve cried like a little girl since I left. I’m not ashamed to admit it, anymore.”
Daniel made a small noise - I couldn’t tell if he was touched or disgusted, or possibly some mixture of both. “And did I?” he said, his voice still flat and emotionless.
“Are you asking me if I’m proud of you?” said Mr. Thorne. “Of course I am.”