Page 40 of One Last Thing Before You Go

KNOX

Iwanted this trip to help prove that I could be responsible and am just as much an adult as she is, no matter the age difference. I wanted to prove to Lottie that I’m not some infatuated kid and that she could trust me with important shit. But no. I had to go and have a meltdown over my father.

My dad.

In all honesty, I thought I had everything together, but hearing Erwin say Walter had talked about me, that he’d mentioned me more than once…

The whole thing was too much to handle.

It takes some time, but after a few minutes of breathing and easy small talk with Lottie, I manage to pull myself together. Even if I’m mortified and gutted that I may have ruined this thing with her (though after our conversation on the way here, I’m beginning to think my age or maturity level is not necessarily why she keeps pushing me away). Eventually, we make it back to Erwin’s booth as cool as two cucumbers—business cucumbers, that is.

“You’re back,” Erwin greets us with a hesitant smile. “Thought you’d run off.”

“Not just yet.” I force a smile. “Sorry about that, by the way. I… I needed a second.”

“He’s gone, isn’t he? Walter, I mean. And not to Scotland.” Erwin frowns, brows pulled together.

“Yes, he’s gone,” Lottie whispers. “About two weeks ago.”

Erwin looks down at the floor and nods. “I am truly sorry to hear that. In all honesty, he hadn’t been looking great the last few times I’d seen him.”

After a brief pause, he lifts his head up and forces a smile. “Well, then. How about I introduce you to your father’s world? Get to know him a little better.”

And without another word, we follow Erwin, weaving through the crowd. We let him guide us for the rest of the afternoon, during which I can feel Lottie’s eyes on me. She watches as I’m introduced to my father’s old friends, how they greet me with the same kindness and pleasant surprise Erwin did. She watches how I break the news of my father’s passing to them and, every time, I see her brace herself, ready to provide me with any kind of support I might need. And whenever I feel my composure begin to slip, she squeezes my hand, reminding me that she’s right here. She’s not going anywhere.

“We’re meeting up for some drinks in a bit. Would you like to come?” Erwin asks. “It’ll be a group of your father’s friends. We can toast to his memory, answer any questions you may have?”

I wince, my control slipping just a bit. Today has been a lot. Enough that I’m not sure whether I could spend a whole night listening about more parts of Walter’s personality that I never got to meet.

“I don’t know…” I start, looking to Lottie for support. She shoots me an encouraging smile, threading her fingers through my own once more.

“It might be nice to get to know this side of Walter. I didn’t know it either.”

My eyes lock on hers, trying to read what’s in them: support, affection, strength. She’s there, this woman I’ve known less than a couple of weeks. There for me. And though she’s pushing her heart away, just out of reach, she’s still been more emotionally supportive and available to me in the past couple of hours than anyone has in my whole life. Throughout this entire day, she’s never left my side, never been without a word of encouragement. Throughout this entire day, Lottie has been my rock.

“Okay. Yeah. I guess it would be cool to know more about him.”

Half an hour later, we meet Erwin and a few people from the convention at a nearby bar, some we’d met already earlier in the day.

“He talked about you a lot, you know?” Allison, one of the traders, whispers to me. She bought two books from us for much more than we expected and pointed us in the direction of three other buyers. Thanks to her and Erwin, we sold the first editions in less than an hour, making more than six times the money we were hoping to come back with. We’re officially going home with enough to cover the demo, electrical work, and some of the renovation. Not enough to cover the full cost of the remodel, but now that we have an in with the rare book trade crowd, those last copies in Walter’s apartment will definitely help us get there.

I look back at Allison, her silver-threaded raven hair shining under the bar lights, in surprise. “He—He did?”

“Oh, yeah,” Broderick—another man from Walter’s gang—pipes in. “He always bragged about his son, the photographer. Even told us about that award you won? The—the—” He snaps his fingers a few times. “The World Photography Awards for travel photojournalism, right? Wouldn’t let us forget how talented you are.” He smiles kindly at me, patting the back of my hand.

My jaw slackens, eyes dropping to the table.

That award was my proudest achievement. I had the privilege of spending five weeks at the Yutajé camp in the Venezuelan Amazon, photographing everything from the beautiful foliage to the most dangerous animals, and epic waterfalls and river banks. It was more than I could’ve ever dreamed of, and to be recognized by such a prestigious award was life-changing. It validated all of my hard work over the past couple of years. All of the bullshit assignments.

And Walter celebrated my win with me from afar.

“He bragged about it? And how did he even find out? It was a couple of years ago—we weren’t even speaking when I won the award.”

Lottie’s hands reach for mine under the table and I look gratefully back at her with a sheepish smile.

“Dad always said photography was stupid. That I was making a mistake by pursuing it as a career,” I tell her. Her eyes widen, maybe because it’s the first time I’ve used the D-word out loud since this whole thing happened. It feels monumental and pivotal to my relationship with Walter, even if it is posthumously.

She squeezes my hand again, speaking in a low voice. “I’m sure most parents of children who choose to pursue the arts live in constant fear of their child’s success or lack thereof. And I think everyone at this table would agree with you in saying that Walter was not one for being sensitive to others’ feelings. He loved in his own unique way.” She treads carefully, as if trying to avoid detonating any minefields she might find.