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"You'll meet them when they come home." He reaches for my hand. "I want you to meet them."
I don't point out the obvious elephant in the room. I haven't even met his daughter yet and every time we're together I think about that.
"I have a picture of my folks in the office." He drops my hand and stands. "You mentioned seeing a photograph of them, but I have one of when they first met. I'm going to get it framed for their anniversary. I'll grab it and show you. You'll get a kick out of the clothes they're wearing."
I can only nod as he takes off down the hallway. With every piece of himself that he exposes to me, I feel the weight of the imbalance between us. He's taking a risk by sharing his life with me. I need to start taking risks too.
***
Ten minutes pass before I finally get up to see where he is. I hear his voice just as I round the corner into the home office. His back is to me. The chair behind the desk swiveled so he can look out at the city.
"May, you know that monkeys don't live in apartments," he says with a sigh into his phone. "When I said we would think about a new pet, I didn't mean a monkey."
I smile to myself. His voice is softer as he speaks to his daughter, the tone less abrasive. There's patience in his words as well as hints of happiness.
"I don't know what a monkey eats. I doubt that it's banana pancakes though."
I stifle a laugh with a swallow. My gaze falls to the open drawer of a filing cabinet. Dozens of pictures sit atop the cabinet and in the drawer. I pick up one. It's of two small children, a boy, and a girl. I study their faces, trying to find Nolan in the boy but his hair is a few shades lighter and longer. The girl is pretty. There's a ribbon tied into her long blonde hair.
"No, May. Bunk beds are not made for girls and their monkeys. Whoever told you that was pulling your leg."
I pick up one of the photographs. It's a small print of a man and a teenage boy with sun-streaked hair standing next to a docked sailboat. The boy is clinging tightly to the man's hand, the smiles on both their faces a testament to their love of each other. This had to be Nolan. The man is old enough to be his grandfather. This is his family. The pictures and memories and the phone call he's engrossed in are all parts of a life that I want a place in.
"I didn't mean that they grabbed your leg and pulled on it. It's a saying, sweetheart. I'll explain it to you when I get home," he murmurs. The amusement in his words is clear. "I'm visiting with my friend right now. I'll be home in a couple of hours."
I place the picture back with the others, my eyes lingering on the young boy's face while I finger the necklace around my neck. It's the one Nolan had fixed for me.
He gave it back to me earlier and smiled when I told him it had been a Christmas gift from Adley.
"Yes, I'll make you pancakes for dinner. I need to go, sweetheart. I love you."
He waits for a breath before he ends the call.
I shuffle my sandals against the hardwood floor hoping the sound will be enough to turn his chair. It does.
"Ellie?" His smile is as warm as his tone. "I was gone for so long you must have wondered if I fell off a cliff."
"A cliff?" I lean toward him, my hands resting on the wall behind him. "Is that what happened?"
"Yes, that's exactly what happened."
I look for some understanding in his eyes, but there's nothing but calmness and contentment.
"If you heard any of that you know that my daughter wants a monkey." He pushes the chair back from the desk and stands. "She's persuasive but she can't win this battle."
"You sound so sure of that."
He scratches the light growth of beard on his jaw. "I'm good with another dog. A cat is fine. I'll get her an enormous aquarium for an entire school of goldfish but a monkey isn't moving in."
"A monkey who sleeps in a bunk bed and eats pancakes is pretty special," I say through a laugh. "I'd pay money to see that."
"I'll take you to the circus." He stalks toward me. "Only if you promise you'll stay away from the clowns."
"That's the second time you've brought up clowns," I point out as I gaze up into his face. "Are you as scared of them as you are of spiders?"
"Not scared." He leans down until his eyes are level with mine. "I don't like clowns. I don't want you to like clowns either."
"You can't tell me what I can like, Nolan." I feign a frown that quickly turns into a grin. "I might really like clowns."
