Chapter 6: The Call I Hadn't Made in Three Years
She picked up on the second ring.
"Carol," I said.
"It's Rachel.
I'm sorry to call so late."
A brief pause.
Then, warmly: "Rachel.
Don't be silly.
Is everything all right?"
Carol was Daniel's former supervisor at the restaurant where he'd worked for six years before his health declined.
She'd come to his funeral.
She'd sent flowers every year on his birthday for the first three years after he d*ed, until I'd finally written to thank her and we'd lost touch the way people do.
"Everything's fine," I said.
"I'm calling because — this is going to sound like an odd request."
"Try me."
I told her about the evening.
About Leo, about Sam, about the box of photographs.
I told her what Leo had said about wanting to come back and apologize.
I didn't make Leo sound better than he'd been, and I didn't make the situation sound worse than it was.
I just told her the truth.
Carol was quiet for a moment when I finished.
"Sam's been at that location for about eight months," she said.
"He's one of their best.
Never misses a shift.
Customers ask for him by name."
"He was very professional tonight," I said.
"Even when he didn't have to be."
"That's Sam," she said.
"He doesn't carry things the way you'd expect.
But that doesn't mean they don't land."
"I know," I said.
"That's why I'm calling.
I want to bring Leo back tomorrow.
But I don't want it to feel like a performance.
I don't want Sam to feel like he's being used as a lesson."
"What do you want it to feel like?"
"I want Leo to apologize because he means it.
And I want Sam to be able to accept it or not, on his own terms.
No audience.
No drama."
Carol was quiet again.
I could hear her thinking.
"Let me make a call in the morning," she said.
"I know the manager at that location.
I'll explain the situation and ask if we can arrange something low-key.
If Sam is comfortable with it, we'll make it happen.
If he's not, we respect that and Leo writes a letter instead."
"That's more than fair," I said.
"Rachel." Her voice was gentler now.
"How are you doing?
With all of this.
Bringing Daniel back up."
I looked at the wooden box on the kitchen table.
"It hurt," I said honestly.
"But I think it needed to happen.
I kept him too private for too long.
Leo didn't even know who he was."
"Daniel would have wanted Leo to know him," Carol said.
"He talked about that baby like he'd hung the moon."
My throat tightened.
"I know."
"Get some sleep.
I'll call you by nine."
I thanked her and set the phone down.
The kitchen was quiet.
The box sat on the table with the lid closed.
I reached over and rested my hand on top of it for a moment, the way you might rest your hand on someone's shoulder.
Then I turned off the light and went to bed.
May you like
Carol called at eight forty-seven.
Sam had said yes.
