Across the table, Dad shifted in his seat. “Of course I do.”
“Good,” Maria said simply, then buttered a piece of sourdough bread. “Because your son deserves that too.”
Given her trademark outspokenness, it was the mildest possible reprimand, andfuck, he loved her for it. Loved her for defending him so carefully, even after belatedly discovering the existence of his ex-fiancée. Loved her for attempting to bridge the yawning gap between him and his sole remaining family member. Loved her for the soft press of her body against his side, silent comfort provided to a silent man.
Loved her, period. End of sentence.
He looked again at his father’s strong, slumped shoulders. His shadowed eyes. His furrowed forehead. The silent record of hisgrief for the woman he’d married and lost, inscribed on his body for always.
Dad hadn’t gotten over her.
He wouldn’t get over her.
And for the first time, Peter thought maybe he did in fact understand his father. If only a little.
Texts with Maria: One Year Ago
Peter:Have you made it home, or are you still en route?
Maria:Two-hour layover in Copenhagen
Maria:I’m in the business lounge eating cheese
Maria:It’s airport cheese, but still quite Gouda
Peter:In kindness to you, I’m going to pretend you didn’t make that awful pun, Pippi
Peter:Any issues at LAX or during your flight? I saw you were heading into bad weather.
Maria:Some turbulence, nothing serious
Maria:As long as the oxygen masks didn’t appear, I figured we were good
Peter:... you thought you might need an oxygen mask?
Maria:At one point, yes
Maria:An overhead compartment popped open, so a few suitcases went flying, and our section’s poor flight attendant took a header intothe bathroom door and gave herself a bloody nose when she didn’t get buckled fast enough
Maria:There was no taking off our seat belts for a while
Peter:That’s
Peter:...
Maria:That’s what?
Peter:Fuck, that’s terrifying, Maria. Are you sure you’re all right?
Maria:Yup, don’t worry
Maria:I got a bit frightened, but I had my birthday present from you in my pocket, so I was protected.??
Peter:The four-leaf clover in resin?
Maria:Ja
Peter:You’re not superstitious, though