15
“L
et’s eat on the patio.” Capri carried dishes from the kitchen. Corrie was on her second glass of wine, watching Daniel stir-fry broccoli, water chestnuts, bean sprouts, and tofu in a sauce he’d made from scratch. It smelled of ginger and basil.
They sat on the patio, brightly lit with strings of tiny white lights.
“This is really good,” Corrie said, pushing the last of her dinner around her plate.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Capri said. “Daniel’s a great cook.”
“That’s just because you buy me all those gadgets.” Daniel smiled at Capri.
Corrie watched them closely. They seemed comfortable together, almost like a brother and sister.
“Well, you’re going to lose all those gadgets when Mia and I get married.”
“Never gonna happen.” Daniel grinned. “You’ll never get within ten feet of an altar.”
“Fuck you,” Capri said, laughing. “Just for that, you can’t come to the wedding.”
She turned to Corrie and smiled. “Mia and I are driving up to San Francisco next month to get married. She knows a judge there who does gay weddings.”
“But I thought . . .” Corrie stopped herself.
“Me and Daniel? Yeah, we were together for a while. But you know, I decided against the whole guy thing. Women are so much . . . easier.
“Besides,” she added, rising to collect Corrie’s plate, “Mia and I wear the same size.”
Capri took the dishes into the kitchen, leaving Corrie staring behind her.
“She’s gay?”
“Actually,” Daniel said, “she’s bi. Capri is always looking for something she’ll never find. A mother, a father . . . who knows.”
“No fathers, thank you.” Capri had returned, carrying a bottle of dark beer. “Fathers are completely unnecessary. My dear old dad beat the crap out of my mom on a regular basis,” she said to Corrie. “And after Mom left, he beat the crap out of me.”
Corrie pulled out her recorder. “Do you mind if I tape?”
“Is this the interview?”
Corrie nodded. “If that’s all right with you.”
“Sure.” Capri took a drink from her beer and leaned back in her chair. “Shoot.”
“You said your mother left. . . . How old were you?”
“Seven. I guess she’d had enough of my father. She was really young when they got married. Dad was stationed in Korea when they met. She was only eighteen. She was nineteen when she had me.
“She used to sing me songs in Korean.” Capri smiled, remembering. “And she told me stories about her family. I never met them.”
She sighed and took another drink. “Anyway, I guess it got so bad she had to leave. One day I came home from school . . . I was in second grade, I think . . . and she was gone.
“My dad went ballistic. He threw away all her things, tore up all her pictures. I kept one, though. I put it under my mattress. I still have it. Do you want to see?”
Capri ran inside and returned with a faded photo of a young woman holding a baby.
“She was beautiful,” Corrie said softly.
“Yeah . . . so, she left. And after that, my dad spent his days drinking and his nights getting in fights with the neighbors and hitting me. When I was nine, DCF came and took me. I was glad, at first. My dad scared the shit out of me. I was glad to get away from him.
“So, I got put in this foster home with three other foster kids. The dad worked all the time and the mom screamed at us a lot. But no one hit us.
“I stayed there a couple years, and then they got divorced and I got moved to another home. That one was nice. The mom there was really sweet. She baked cookies and stuff . . . just like a real mom. I liked her.”
Capri stopped for a minute, staring into the dark.
“But, after a couple years, they moved me again. And then again. I ended up in seven houses by the time I was eighteen. Then . . .” She made a chopping movement with her hand. “I got the ax. No one pays for you after you turn eighteen.
“That’s when I met Daniel. My caseworker sent me to the center, to see if they could help me get an apartment. I shared an apartment with two other girls till I moved in here. That was three years ago.
“But now”—she turned to grin again at Daniel—“I’m moving on. And poor Danny will be all by himself.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said. “Tell Corrie about your career plans.”
“I’ve been taking evening classes at Pasadena Community College,” Capri said. “I’ll have my associate degree by Christmas. Then I’m going to apply to UCLA. Daniel thinks I’ll get some scholarships. I want to get my degree in counseling. I figure with my background I’d be a good counselor for other foster kids. Daniel says he’ll hire me when I’m done.”
“That’s great,” Corrie said, smiling. “I think you’d be a great counselor.”
“So,” Capri said, rising to strike a dramatic pose. “You want photos? I am very photogenic.”
“Probably not here,” Corrie said. “I think I’ll leave out the bit about you living with Daniel.”
Capri laughed. “Okay, whitewash it if you have to. Just get us some money for the center.”
“I’ll bring the camera tomorrow, and we’ll get a picture of you at the center.”
“Great!” Capri leaned over to kiss the top of Daniel’s head.
“Okay, Dad,” she said, laughing. “I’ve done my part. Now I’m off to the Voodoo. . . . Mia’s waiting.”
With that she was gone, leaving Corrie and Daniel on the patio.
“She’s great,” Corrie said. “I can’t believe she’s so . . . sane after everything she’s been through.”
“Well, she puts on a good front, anyway,” Daniel said. “But don’t let her fool you. She pretends to be all grown up, but inside she’s still a scared little kid.”
“Did she ever try to find her mother?”
“Yeah, but she never did. For all we know, her mom could be back in Korea.”
“That’s so sad.”
“The world is full of sad stories, Corrie. Don’t you know that?”
Corrie didn’t answer. Of course she knew there was sadness in the world, even in her own perfect, little world. Why did Daniel always make her feel inadequate?
“Come on,” he said, rising abruptly. “Help me with the dishes.”
They stood side by side at the sink. Daniel washed while Corrie dried.
“I can’t believe you don’t have a dishwasher.”
“Don’t need one.” Daniel smiled, handing her a plate. “Usually, it’s just me. It’d take me a month to dirty up enough dishes to fill a dishwasher.”
“Do you think Capri will really move out?”
“I don’t know. I never thought she would, but once she starts college, she just might fly the coop.”
“And then you’ll be alone again.” Corrie swiped a towel across the counter. “Will you be lonely?”
Daniel watched her, saying nothing.
She stopped to look at him. “Won’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said finally. “If Capri leaves, I’ll probably be lonely. Hell, I’m lonely now.”
He watched her carefully.
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you lonely?”
Corrie hung the towel on the refrigerator door and turned away.
“No,” she said, her voice sharp. “Of course I’m not lonely. I have Mark.”
“Tell me about him.”
They walked back out to the patio, Daniel carrying the wine. He poured her another glass.
Careful,
she thought.
You don’t want to get drunk
.
“Mark is wonderful,” she said, not looking at him. “He’s an architect. He’s done some lovely buildings. Right now he’s working on an apartment building in New York.”
“How did you guys meet?” Daniel relaxed in his chair.
“Actually, I’ve known him since I was a kid. He’s Sarah’s brother. You remember Sarah?”
“Yeah, I remember her.”
“Mark is her big brother, so I already knew him some. But we didn’t really get to know each other until a couple years after you . . . after graduation.”
She took a sip of wine.
“I was on a blind date,” she said, smiling into her glass. “I let Bryn fix me up with a guy from the university, a friend of Paul’s. We were at Brennan’s having dinner and I saw Mark at the bar. He was there with a client. And when the client left, he came over to our table and just . . . sat down.
“If you asked him, he’d tell you that he could see I was bored and he rescued me. But really, Mark just does stuff like that. He saw me, thought I was cute, and barged in on my date. Just sat down and waited the other guy out.”
“That’s kind of presumptuous,” Daniel said.
“That’s Mark.”
Corrie smiled again. “He sees what he wants and he goes for it. And honestly, it felt good to be wanted like that.”
“Is he good to you?”
Corrie smiled, swirling the wine in her glass.
“Yes, he’s very good to me.” She laughed. “He even likes my mom.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Daniel asked. “Your mom is great. I loved your mom.”
“I know, but Mark is . . . he came from a wealthy family, you know? His parents are so . . . proper. I wasn’t sure what he’d think of mine.”
“Well, if he didn’t love your mom, I’d say there was something seriously wrong with him.”
“Mark is good,” Corrie said softly. “He’s very good to me.”
“How come you don’t have kids?”
Corrie felt herself tense.
Damn, he is just as direct as ever
.
She sat quietly for a minute, then said, “Oh, I don’t know. The time just never seemed right.”
“That’s a load of crap.” Daniel’s voice was flat. “You always wanted kids, Corrie. What happened?”
She sipped her wine before answering.
“Apparently, I can’t have them.”
“Oh, Coriander. I’m sorry. You were meant to be a mom.”
“Well,” she said, trying to smile. “I guess God doesn’t think so.”
He stared at her. “Since when do you believe in God?”
“I converted to Catholicism when I married Mark,” she said. “He’s not particularly religious, but it was important to his parents. I never thought about faith before that, but I like going to church. It’s very . . . calming.”
“Well, I don’t believe that God doesn’t want you to have kids. You’d be a great mother.”
She didn’t answer.
“Why don’t you adopt? There are lots of kids out there who need good homes.”
He leaned toward her, looking her full in the face. “Seriously, Corrie, I could put you in touch with an agency here. We work with several good ones. There are so many babies who need—”
“Thank you, Daniel. But I will handle my life by myself.”
“Sorry,” he said, smiling at her. “I slipped into social worker mode. I’m a big believer in adoption. I’ve even thought about adopting myself.”
Corrie stared at him in disbelief.
“You?” She laughed. “I can’t see that.”
“I know, back in college I said I didn’t want kids. But I’m thirty-three now. I’ve got a good job, or at least I will if your article raises some money for the center. I’m tired of living alone. . . . I think I’d be a good dad.”
Corrie shook her head. The wine was making her feel fuzzy. This could not possibly be the same man she’d known in college.
“I’m sorry,” Daniel said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “The baby thing is just . . . hard.”
“Is it you, or is it him?”
“Damn it, Daniel! That is none of your business.”
He didn’t reply.
She sighed. “It’s me,” she said finally. “I’m sure it’s me.”
“Did the doctor tell you that?”
“The doctors never could tell for sure what it was. Just that it wasn’t happening.”
“I’m really sorry.”
Daniel stood and walked to the railing of the patio.
“There are a lot of things I’m sorry about, Corrie. The biggest thing, though, is that I’m sorry I left you the way I did.”
Corrie didn’t reply.
“I still don’t know why I did what I did, running off that way. I felt . . . I don’t know, I guess I felt like if I stayed, I’d never leave. Never leave Middlebrook, never leave the Midwest, never get to do anything . . . important.”
“You don’t have to explain anything, Daniel.”
“Yes, I really do,” he said, turning to face her. “Because I hurt you. I was a real bastard, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly, rising to stand beside him, leaning against the railing. “I’m okay.”
“Yeah,” he said, looking away. “You’re okay. . . . But I’m not.”
Corrie watched his face, wished she could reach over to brush the red hair away from his collar.
“I thought I could save the world, you know? I thought it was my calling, that I could change the world.”
“You are helping people. Look at what you’ve done for Capri, and for that artist, and for all the kids at the center. You’ve had a huge impact on their lives.”
“Maybe,” he said, turning to look at her. “But for the one person I loved more than anything, the only difference I made was to hurt her . . . to hurt you.
“And now—” He turned away again. “Now you are happily married. You have the nice house you always wanted, the nice husband, the nice life. And all I can think of is, I still want you.
“How selfish is that?” he said. “Now that you’re finally happy, all I want to do is grab you and hold you and never let you go.”
Corrie stood absolutely still. She heard the hum of traffic from the freeway below, felt a warm breeze on her skin. She closed her eyes and leaned against the railing, her mind spinning dizzily.
Then she felt Daniel’s arms around her, let herself be pulled to him. His lips found hers, softly at first, then harder, more insistent. She leaned into his body, his familiar smell enveloping her. She tilted her head, opened her lips, and kissed him. She felt electric, as if the past ten years had slipped away and she was twenty-two again, in the arms of her lover.
His hands were in her hair, pulling her face closer. She ran her hands down his arms, felt him shudder. God, she felt alive.