The Sweetness of Forgetting (89)

Alain folds his hands over mine. “He cares about what happens to you. And whether you admit it or not, you care about what happens to him too.”

“Those still aren’t things we have in common,” I reply stubbornly.

“He cares about Annie,” Alain adds softly. “You cannot tell me you do not have that in common.”

I pause before nodding. “Yeah,” I admit. “He does care about Annie.”

“That is not something that comes along every day,” Alain says. “Think about how he helped her when we were in Paris and Rose was brought to the hospital. He was there for her. And he was there for you.”

I nod again. “I know. He’s a good guy.”

“He is more than that,” Alain says. “Tell me, why do you not believe in this?”

I shrug and look down. “He’s seven years younger than I am, for one thing,” I mumble.

Alain laughs. “Your grandmother married a Christian man, although she is a Jew. And you just came from the home of a woman who is happily married to a Christian Jew, although she is Muslim. If something as important as religious differences can be surmounted, do you really think seven years make a difference?”

I shrug again. “Fine. But I also have a child.”

Alain just looks at me. “Of course. But I do not understand why this is an excuse for you.”

“Well, for one thing, he’s only twenty-nine. I can’t ask him to take on the responsibility of a teenage kid.”

“It seems to me that you have not asked him,” Alain says, “and yet he is already here, taking on the responsibility. Is that not his decision to make?”

I hang my head. “But my mother always put men first, you know? I always felt like I didn’t matter to her as much as they did. Her life revolved around whomever she was dating at the time. I promised myself I would never, ever make my child feel that way.”

“You are not your mother,” Alain says after a moment.

“But what if I turn into her?” I ask in a small voice. “What if now that I’m divorced, that’s exactly what I do? I can’t let myself go down that road. Annie has to come first, no matter what.”

“Letting someone else in does not mean leaving Annie out,” Alain says carefully.

I can feel tears rolling down my cheeks and am surprised to realize I’ve started crying. “But what if he hurts me?” I blurt out. “What if I let him into my life, and he breaks my heart? What if he hurts Annie? She’s been through so much with her dad; I don’t think I could bear it if I hurt her too.”

Alain pats my hand. “It is true, that is a risk you take,” he says. “But life is about taking risks. How can you live, otherwise?”

“But I’m happy enough now,” I tell him. “Maybe that’s enough. How do you know Gavin won’t change all that?”

“I don’t,” Alain says. “But there is only one way to find out.” Alain stands and grabs my cell phone from the counter, where it’s charging. “Call him. Ask him to go with you tomorrow. You do not need to make any decisions right away. But open the door, Hope. Open the door to let him in.”

I take the phone from him and draw a deep breath. “Okay.”



Annie wakes up with me at three in the morning, and as I sip coffee at the kitchen table and read yesterday’s newspaper, she eats Rice Krispies and drinks a glass of orange juice while staring at me.

“So Mr. Keyes said yes?” she asks. “He’s gonna go with you?”

“Yes,” I say. I clear my throat. “He’ll be here at four.”

“Good,” she says. “Mr. Keyes is really nice. Don’t you think?”

I nod and look down at my coffee. “Yes, he is,” I say carefully.

“He’s good at fixing things.”

I give her a funny look. “Well, obviously. He’s a handyman.”

She laughs. “No, I mean, like, he fixes people and stuff. Like he likes to help people.”

I smile. “Yeah, I guess he does.”

Annie doesn’t say anything for a second. “So, like, you know he likes you, right? You can see it, the way he looks at you.”

I can feel a flush creeping up my neck. I’m not ready to discuss this with Annie. “Like your dad looks at Sunshine?” I make a lame attempt at a joke.

Annie makes a face. “No, not like that.”

I laugh. I’m about to say something else in protest, but Annie beats me to it.

“Dad looks at Sunshine like he’s scared, I think,” she says.

“Scared?”

She thinks for a minute. “Scared of being alone,” she says. “But Gavin looks at you different.”

“What do you mean?” I ask softly. I realize I really want to hear her answer.

She shrugs and looks back down at her cereal. “I don’t know. Like he just wants to be around you. Like he thinks you’re great. Like he wants to do stuff to make your life good.”

I’m silent for a minute. I don’t know what to say. “Does that bother you?” is what I finally settle on.

Annie looks surprised. “No. Why would it?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s been hard for you, watching your dad move on so quickly. I guess I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. You’re my number one priority. Now and always.”