“What did your parents do?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. My father said he was glad it was gone. Boys don’t play piano. Boys play sports.”
“Your mother?”
Van shrugged. “She had the promotion at Sherman Brothers. She’d worked her way to buyer. Over the course of the year, she would fly here and there to fashion shows to determine what the stores would sell. Fuck, she probably never even knew what Phillip did. The three of us weren’t her priority. Her career was.”
I had so many thoughts.
He turned to me. “I basically moved out of the house. At fucking twelve or thirteen, I left.”
“Where did you go?”
He smiled. “Mrs. Juniper. Her first name was Henrietta.”
“The lady who taught you piano?”
Van nodded.
“Your parents didn’t demand you come home?”
“One less mouth to feed.”
“What happened to Henrietta?” I asked.
“She passed away my senior year of high school.”
I laid my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. Any ounce of compassion in the man you see here, the one who deserves to have you in his life, is because of the love she showed me. She had one son, but he died before she took me in. I was her only family.” Van exhaled. “She left everything to me. I mean it wasn’t a lot, but it paid for my move to Chicago. It started my nest egg and helped with college.”
“I’m glad then that you had her.”
“Mrs. Mayhand is younger. Hell, to a teenage boy, Mrs. Juniper was ancient.” He looked my way with a child-like glee. “She would come to my recitals and listen to me play her piano for hours. It wasn’t as if she made me practice. She encouraged me to do what I wanted.”
“What about Paula?”
“When I moved here, I could have easily closed myself off from everyone. Fuck, I practically did.” He sat taller. “Mrs. Mayhand reminded me of Henrietta. I was instantly drawn to her and Bruce.”
“I love her.”
His story prompted a question. “Do you not think mothers should work?”
“I’m going to have a baby with the CEO of Wade Pharmaceutical. I’m planning on being a kept man, a stay-at-home dad.”
“I think there’s some room for negotiation.”
“Look at you. There’s no limit, Julia. Delegate, tell me what to do, or do it all yourself. It wasn’t that our mother took the job. It was that our mother lived for that job. You aren’t her. You can love and live.” He laid his hand over my stomach. “There’s so much fucking goodness in you, our child will know his or her mom cares.” His smile brought a tear to my eye. “Our child already knows.”
I reached for his cheek. “He or she will also know that their mom loves their dad, very much.”
Van stood and offered me his hand. “Come on, let’s go home and not risk Bradley’s sex ed.”
Julia
The following summer
Ientered the nursery, finding Van holding Henri. “I thought he was asleep.”