David looked toward the kitchen. “Because I talk about you.”
Noah reappeared. “Constantly.”
“Noah, go away.”
“It’s true.”
David looked embarrassed.
Noah continued. “He shows me pictures of your garden.”
“Please stop helping. I actually don’t even think you are.”
“I’m trying to.”
Despite myself, I smiled for half a second.
Then I remembered why I was angry.
I turned back to David. “Why did you lie?”
“I was ashamed.”
“Of being 81 or did you think I was too young for you?”
“Of looking 81.”
I folded my arms.
“I had cancer two years ago.”
I was now feeling bad about mocking him.
He continued. “I was already aging badly, if that’s a thing. Then treatment took the rest.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been hard. What kind?”
“Colon cancer. I underwent surgery and chemotherapy.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. As far as they know.”
I hated that concern came before anger.
I hated even more that he noticed.
David said, “When we started talking, I didn’t think it would become anything.”
“So you lied.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Noah.
“Do you live here?”
He leaned against the doorway. “Part-time.”
“My mom works nights at the hospital. I stay here sometimes because it’s closer to school.”
I looked at David.
“You never mentioned a grandson.”
“I mentioned grandchildren.”
“Not one who lives in the next room.”
“I didn’t want you thinking I needed looking after.”
Noah snorted. “He does sometimes. Just like all old people.”
“Noah. Again, you are not helping.”
“You should know that he is irritating like all old people, too.”
I chuckled.
“He leaves cupboard doors open and complains about Wi-Fi like it’s a personal insult.”
David looked at him. “Go upstairs right now.”
When he left, I said, “So this is why we could have no video calls?”
David answered immediately. “I didn’t want you to see me yet.”
“So you just kept lying?”
“I kept meaning to tell you.”
“When?”
“After the first month.”
“But it’s been months now, and you haven’t.”
He looked away.
I felt something in me crack.
“Was I ever supposed to come here?”
David was quiet for too long.
I already knew.
“No, I didn’t think I would invite you anytime soon.”
“You never wanted to meet me?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then what are you saying?”
He lifted his eyes. “I thought if I kept you far enough away, I could keep being the version of myself you liked.”
The hallway went very quiet.
“Do you understand how cruel that is?”
His face crumpled. “Yes.”
“You decided for me. You decided I wouldn’t like you if I saw you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You let me tell you things I haven’t told anyone in years while making sure I couldn’t make an informed decision about you.”
He nodded. “I wasn’t thinking right. I’m sorry.”
I picked up my suitcase. “I think I’m going to leave.”
“Helen.”
“No.”
“Please stay long enough to let me explain.”
“You’ve already explained.”
I walked out.
I got another taxi and booked a hotel from the back seat.
When I reached the room, I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at that pale green jacket.
I felt stupid.
Then I called Claire.
She answered immediately.
“How’s the spa, Mom?”
Her sweet voice broke my resolve to hide everything. I started crying.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“There is no spa.”
Twenty minutes later, she knew everything.
When I finished, she said, “Okay. That’s a lot to process.”
“That’s it?”
“I’m trying not to yell at you because you’ve already had a bad day.”
“I lied to you. I’m sorry.”
“Are you safe?”
“I am.”
She exhaled. “Well, that’s all I care about.”
Then she said, “I understand why you did it.”
I hadn’t expected that from her. “You do?”
“You’ve been lonely.”
“I wasn’t that lonely.”
“You lied about flying 1,100 miles to meet a Facebook man.”
“That’s fair.”
“What he did was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“But I also understand why he did it.”
I frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Not approve. Understand.”
She paused. “You’re both scared.”
“Of what?”
“Rejection, but you still want to build connections.”
