He sat up slightly and looked at me. ‘Oh, Auden. Is that what she’s saying?’

‘She isn’t saying anything,’ I told him, pulling open the heavy shades. ‘I’m just asking because I want you guys to work it out, that’s all.’

He watched me, studious, as I walked around his room, picking up coffee cups and fast-food bags. ‘Your concern is intriguing,’ he said finally. ‘Considering I thought you didn’t like Heidi.’

‘What?’ I threw a couple of sticky, ketchup-covered napkins in the overflowing trash can. ‘Of course I do.’

‘So you don’t think she’s some vapid, soulless Barbie doll?’

‘No,’ I said, pushing aside the thought that, okay, this might have once been true. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘Because that’s what your mother said,’ he replied, his voice heavy. ‘And you two tend to think alike.’

I was in the bathroom as he said this, washing my hands, and hearing it I looked up, then away from my own eyes in the mirror. Maybe this had once been true, as well. ‘Not about everything,’ I said.

‘Oh, but that is what is great about your mother,’ he mused as I looked around for a clean towel to wipe my hands on. ‘You always know what she’s thinking. There’s none of this guessing around, speculating, having to read all the hidden signs and codes. When she was unhappy, I knew it. But Heidi…’

I stepped back into the room, sitting down on the other bed. ‘Heidi what?’

He sighed again. ‘She hides everything. Keeps it deep down, and you think everything’s fine, but then one day, out of nowhere, it suddenly explodes in your face. She’s not fine, she’s unhappy. You haven’t been doing enough after all. Oh, and you’re the worst father ever, also.’

I waited a beat or two before asking, ‘Did she actually say that, though?’

‘Of course not!’ he snapped. ‘But in marriage, all is subtext, Auden. The fact of the matter is that in her mind, I have failed her and Thisbe. From day one, apparently.’

‘So you try again,’ I said. ‘And do better.’

He gave me a sad look. ‘It’s not that easy, honey.’

‘What’s the alternative, though? Just staying here, alone?’

‘Well, I don’t know.’ He got off the bed, walking over to the window and sliding his hands in his pockets. ‘I certainly don’t want to make things any worse than I already have. It’s possible they’d be better off without me. Even probable.’

I felt my stomach twist, unexpectedly. ‘I doubt that,’ I said. ‘Heidi loves you.’

‘And I her,’ he said. ‘But sometimes, love isn’t enough.’ The weird thing was that what bothered me most about him saying this was that it was such a lame, throwaway line. He was a great writer: I knew he could do better.

‘I’ve got to go to work,’ I said, picking up my bag from the bed beside me. ‘I just… I wanted to see how you were.’

He walked over to me, pulling me close for a hug. I could feel that beard, itchy and out of place, rubbing my forehead as he murmured, ‘I’m okay. I’ll be okay.’

Outside, I walked to the elevator and hit the button, which did not light up. I hit it again. Nothing. Then I stepped closer, and bashed it with my fist.

I realized – as it finally lit up, and fast – that I was furious. No: heart-pounding, can’t-even-think-straight pissed off. When I got inside the elevator, the doors closed, mirroring my reflection back at me. This time, I looked at myself full-on.

It was the strangest thing, to be suddenly infuriated, like something he’d said, or done, had uncapped a valve within me, long sealed, and suddenly something was shooting out, gushing like a geyser. As I crossed the lobby to the boardwalk, all I could think was that regardless of the performance I’d just witnessed, it didn’t make you noble to step away from something that wasn’t working, even if you thought you were the reason for the malfunction. Especially then. It just made you a quitter. Because if you were the problem, chances were you could also be the solution. The only way to find out was to take another shot.

I was almost to Clementine’s before I realized how fast I was walking, passing people on both sides. When I finally pushed the door open, I was breathing so heavily and so flushed that Maggie jumped, startled, when she saw me.

‘Auden?’ she said. ‘What’s –’

‘I need a favor,’ I told her.

She blinked at me. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘What is it?’

When I told her, I expected her to be confused. Or maybe laugh at me. But she did neither. She just considered it for a moment, and then nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I can do that.’

Chapter FIFTEEN

It was, to say the least, embarrassing.

‘Now, see,’ Maggie said as I got up off the ground, ‘that’s what we don’t want to happen.’

‘Got it.’ I looked down, noting my newly scraped knee, which now matched my other one. ‘I just… it feels so weird.’

‘I bet.’ She sighed. ‘I mean, there’s a reason you’re supposed to learn this when you’re little.’

‘Less self-conscious?’

‘Less distance to fall.’

She reached down, picking up the bike and putting it back into a standing position. Once more, I climbed on, resting my feet flat on the ground. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Try again.’