Beyond the Shadow of Night(112)

“Thank you.” Asher looked around the kitchen. “Nice place Brad has here.”

“Well, it’s kind of Brad and Diane’s place now.”

“Oh, yes. Of course. And I’m really pleased for you. I know how your father . . . well, I know what he was like.”

“Yes.”

Asher smiled again and said how nice the coffee was. It was then that Diane couldn’t help herself. It hadn’t been the kind of question to ask over the phone, but she got the impression it might well be her last chance to ask him face to face.

“Why did you do it, Asher?”

There. The question had been burning a hole, and now it was said. It was out there. A look of severe concentration cast a shadow over Asher’s face. He froze, staring at her, then slowly and quietly said, “The confession?”

“I still don’t understand. And I’d like to. If you don’t mind.”

Now he just looked bewildered. “I’m still not sure I can say. But I know I’ve felt guilty all my life, and that evening I felt guiltier than ever. I guess I still feel I was responsible for your father’s death, even though I didn’t pull the trigger. I was guilty in that respect.”

“But you really weren’t, Asher. It’s only looking back that I can see Father was always on the edge like that anyway.”

“Thank you. But I’m still sorry. I still miss him.”

“I know. Me too.”

“You realize if it hadn’t been for him I wouldn’t have met Izabella earlier this year?”

“I guess not.”

“He paid for my vacation, and he persuaded me to return to Warsaw—for the wrong reasons, perhaps, but he persuaded me nonetheless.”

“He was my father. I know he wasn’t all bad.”

“Of course not. I know that too.” Asher stopped and took a long breath. “That brings me to the reason I’m here. I have to ask you something.”

“Sure. What?”

“You see, when I saw Izabella in Warsaw we got on better than I ever could have dreamed of.”

“You told me that already.”

“No, I mean really well. It was uncanny—almost as if we’d been together all those years as a married couple. If anything, it was even more beautiful than it was when we knew each other during the war.”

“I can believe that. You painted a pretty picture, I have to say.”

“And I told her about my life up in Detroit, how I had friends I met regularly in the library—buddies, so I thought. Do you know that when I was in hospital not one of them came to see me? Not one. The only visitors I had were you and your father.”

“No, I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

“You see, we told each other about everything. It felt so good for me. And then, on the day I left, when I thought it couldn’t get any better, she sat me down and asked me to live with her permanently in Warsaw.”

“Oh, Asher. That’s really nice.”

“Well, it should have been. I wanted to say yes to her. I wanted to say yes a thousand times. But I was too scared.”

“I don’t understand. Scared of what?”

Asher gave his chin a rub, pausing for thought, before continuing. “You see, I had this image in my mind. Izabella and I are married—have been married for fifty years. And we’re happy, deliriously so. We have a lovely house, nicely decorated, clean and tidy, fresh flowers on the dining table. We go on vacation together, just the two of us now our children are all grown up. But we help out the children by giving advice, and we play with our grandchildren.” He shrugged. “Schmaltzy, I know. But I couldn’t get those thoughts and images out of my mind. I knew damn well that I’d spend my time with Izabella regretting the past, wishing to God we’d got together just after the war and enjoyed all those years together, had that family and the nice house and the vacations. All that regret, it would have made me angry. And that wouldn’t have been fair on her.”

Diane gave a thoughtful nod.

“The regretting, the longing for a past I never had—I just couldn’t face it. I guess getting myself locked up meant I could avoid having to explain it to Izabella. It’s only now I realize that. But I called her after I got released, explained it all to her. We talked for hours, just like we had in Warsaw, and with her help, I think I’m ready. She told me I can still have those thoughts of what might have been, and that in time I’ll come to accept that the chance has gone. And she’s right. I don’t long for those things anymore. I think of them occasionally, but I don’t long for them. I accept the chance has gone.”

“You know something?” Diane said. “I completely get that.”

Asher smiled softly, sadness in his eyes. “Somehow I thought you might.”

“Well, good on you. And does that mean you’re going?”

“Uh-huh. This is my farewell tour, and you have the only ticket.”

“I’m so pleased for you, Asher. You deserve a little happiness.”

“Thank you.” He leaned in and whispered, “So do you.”

“Okay, okay.” She blushed.

“Anyway,” he said. “I have a big favor to ask you.”

“Sure. Anything.”