“Not a bad idea.” He set his cup down. “Noni, do you think I could have it?”
Noni waved her hand. “Take the whole book. You know, I’m surprised it was just stuck in the photo album like that. It was so important to her. She must have forgotten it was there. They were married sixty- seven years, you know.”
“It’s a good thing Nick found it then. Otherwise it might have been lost to time forever.” I couldn’t get over the matching date. What did it mean?
Noni nodded, eyeing me thoughtfully. “Yes. Although, nothing is really lost forever. When a thing is meant to be found, the right person will find it. So I bet there’s a reason why that note was discovered again after all this time.”
“You mean…you think it was a sign?” I asked carefully.
Nick laughed. “You’re getting to her, Noni. Coco believes in signs. Keep going with it, please.”
I was too flustered to even hit him.
“Not a sign, necessarily. I just meant that I think it’s right Nick came across the note. That he was meant to have it.” She took another sip of coffee and winked at me over the rim of her cup.
Later that morning, Nick painted the Adirondack chairs while I typed up some of Noni’s stories on her desktop, which reminded me of the kind we used to have in our elementary school classrooms. In addition to the Lupo stories she knew, she talked about growing up on the farm, what it was like to be a teenager during the Depression, and meeting her husband Joe at a USO dance in 1944. I printed a copy of the file for Noni and emailed a copy to Nick and myself—maybe it wasn’t my family, but I felt emotionally invested in the stories somehow.
After lunch, we said goodbye to Noni, and got on the road. It looked like rain, so we didn’t put the top down on the convertible, and sure enough, after about ten minutes on I-75, it began to sprinkle, and then pour. Visibility was so bad, I wouldn’t have blamed Nick for pulling over and waiting out the storm, but he just slowed down and stayed focused.
“Sorry. This ride home might take us awhile,” he said without taking his eyes off the road.
“That’s OK. I’m not in a rush to get back.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I thought ahead to the task I was dreading—a pregnancy test. After we got back to Detroit, I’d leave right from the parking garage and stop at a drugstore on my way home. The thought of taking a test at my parents’ house was pretty cringe-worthy, but I didn’t want to do it at Nick’s apartment either. I wanted to be alone. Maybe I could do it at the Devine Events office.
“Want to talk?” Nick glanced at me briefly.
“Not really…” I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. “I don’t have anything new to say yet. I’m still…working through some things.”
“OK. Do you want to stop at a store on the way home?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ll take care of it.”
He pressed his lips together, and I could tell he wasn’t saying something he was thinking.
“What?” I pressed.
“It doesn’t seem like you should be alone when you take it.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“No, I know, it’s not that. I mean it doesn’t seem fair. For you to be alone.”
I studied his profile carefully. His jaw was set at a stubborn angle. “Fair to whom, Nick?”
“To me.”
“You!” My arms flew open. “How is it unfair to you that I want to take this pregnancy test alone? You’re not my boyfriend.”
“Maybe not, but I’m still the potential father. I want the answer just as badly as you do.” He risked a sideways glance at me. “And I want the truth.”
“What!” I exploded. “You think I’d lie to you about this? You’re the liar in this car, Nick. I think we’ve established that this weekend. Thanks for the reminder.” I turned away from him in a huff, crossing my legs toward the passenger door and staring out my window. Unfuckingbelievable. Just when he starts to get under my skin again, he has to be an asshole.
“Don’t get mad, Coco. I’m trying to be honest here. You know what? Women say they want men to talk about their feelings and be honest, but they don’t really mean it.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t need to hear your feelings when you’re insinuating that I’d lie about something like a baby.”
“Wouldn’t you? Even though you don’t want it?”
“No, I wouldn’t! But you’re damn right I don’t want it.”
Nick exhaled like he was struggling to keep his temper. “You’re trying to hurt me. I get it.”
“Good.” I felt a small victory in getting to him.
A covert glance over my shoulder revealed white knuckles on the steering wheel.
“How many times am I going to have to apologize for the past, Coco?” His tone was aggrieved, as if he were the victim of injustice here. “I’m sorry. I never should have done any of the wrong things I did. But it was seven fucking years ago. Can’t we move on?”
“I’m not looking for another apology because you hurt me in the past, Nick. I’m looking for one for what you said to me just now.”
He was quiet after that, and I kept my eyes on the raindrops splattering down the window. All the way down I-75 we sat in icy silence, both of us hurt and angry, neither of us willing to apologize again.