When the sky begins to darken, I am finally ready. Casually, I say, “So, it turns out that Esben is not a terrible person.”
“Oh?” Steff is rooting through my closet and trying hard not to frown at my unfashionable clothing.
“I watched the video.”
“Did you?” She takes a red top off the hanger and holds it against her torso and assesses herself in the mirror. “This is actually cute.”
I laugh. “You can stop pretending that you don’t want to know what happened with Esben.”
She flings the top at me playfully. “Well, thank God!” Steff jumps on the bed and crashes down to a sitting position. “Tell me. Tell me!”
So, I do. Every detail that I can remember, although I do leave out the part when I set my hand on his face. And the part when he put his hand on mine . . . I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.
Steffi leans back against the headboard and hugs a pillow while she listens. “So, he’s really not a monster. Who knew?”
I roll my eyes. “You knew!”
“Fine, yes. But you had to see with your own eyes.” She looks at me directly. “Allison? He’s as perfect as they come. He is.”
I don’t know what to say to this.
“Look, I doubt people as much as you do, but Esben is not like most people. Even I can see that.”
I nod.
“You don’t need to keep pushing him away. He’s not a threat.”
“Maybe.”
“Might be nice for you to have a friend.”
“I have you.”
“Allison, of course you have me.” She reaches for her shoes. “But Esben is special. You know how you and I are exceptions? Esben is, too. Just a thought.” She stands and throws on a coat.
“Are you going somewhere?” I ask.
“Chinese food. Last night’s fling recommended a place a block away. I’m starving, so I’ll go pick up dinner. We need at least five orders of fried dumplings.”
“I’ll come with you.” I start to get up, but she stops me.
“My dear, I love you, but you need a shower. You reek.”
“Well, thanks. You don’t smell so hot either.”
“I smell like sexy sex. But I’ll shower after dinner. I’ve got an early flight, so I’m going to have to get up at the crack of dawn to drive to Boston. No drinking tonight. Or not much drinking. We’re cutting ourselves off by eleven. Midnight, let’s say midnight.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m drinking after last night. I don’t need to do anything else idiotic.”
“You need to redefine idiotic.” Steff swings open the door to the hall. “Back soon, smelly girl.”
She is right. I do stink, so I strip down and put on my robe. The women’s bathroom is crowded this evening, with girls primping for Saturday night parties. Carmen is leaning into a mirror and applying lipstick. Here hair is shorter now and colored a light purple that’s very pretty. I walk past her, then think twice and decide to make eye contact in the mirror.
“Hi, Carmen.”
She stands up straight. “Oh, hi, Allison.” I don’t blame her for looking tentative.
“Are you going out tonight?” I ask. “You look nice.”
“Thanks. Yeah, I have a date. Or sort of a date.” She smiles a little. “Meeting him at a party.”
“Cool. Have fun.”
She assesses her appearance in the mirror and rubs her lips together. “You want to come with me?”
I don’t have my usual urge to run away screaming, which I find interesting. “I actually have a friend in town this weekend, and we’re still recovering from last night. But thanks.” I start toward a free shower stall and then look back. I’m nervous and shaking a bit, but I say, “Maybe next weekend?”
“Yeah. That’d be great.”
I set my bath products on the floor of the shower, hang my robe, and turn the faucet to just below scalding. A shower has never felt so good, and I take my time, praying that this shower will clear my head of the jumbled mess that’s swirling around inside. I wish Steffi could stay longer, especially with what’s been going on. My usual quiet college life has been turned upside down, and I don’t know what’s going to hit next. Although, I must admit I don’t actually feel unhappy right now, and not just because Steffi is still here. Now that I’ve at least had a conversation with Esben, the entire video incident feels less unpleasant, and I don’t have constant waves of anger or shame crashing over me the way I did before. Perhaps, as Steffi suggested, Esben is an exception. I don’t know.
When I get back to the room, Steffi is still gone, so I text her. My stomach is growling like crazy, and I hope she actually did get five orders of dumplings, because I could down them all in a flash. After a few minutes, she replies that she got lost going to the restaurant, and now they’re backed up. I set to tidying up the common area, and the box tower grabs my attention. I debate for a bit, then take a box from the top of the pile and bring it to my bedroom.
I set it on the bed and stare at it. Then I move it to the desk, and I sit on the bed and stare at it. Then I stand up and pace back and forth like a tiger in a cage. For the first time, I am yearning to open one of these boxes, and it also feels like I’m up against a challenge, as though I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t open any of these care packages because I don’t deserve them. Now I’m tempted to cave.
Screw it.
I grab some scissors and slice the tape. After a few deep breaths, I open the box.
Immediately, I start laughing. The top layer of the care package is made up of microwavable macaroni and cheese cups. It’s so perfect. When I’ve got my giggling under control, I see what else Simon has sent. Plastic spoons, lemon cookies, and tea bags (for a tea party, Simon insists!), instant soups, hair ties, body lotions in various fruit scents, socks with monkeys on them, a ten-cup coffeepot, a bag of ground Sumatra, two red mugs, individual raw sugar packets, and a twenty-dollar bill earmarked for pizza. He’s included a card, and on the front is a picture of a leopard seal. Inside, he has written:
Allison—
Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a card with a leopard seal on it? Very. In fact, they do not seem to exist, so yours truly made one using an online photo service. THAT’S DEDICATION!
Let me know if there are other things you would like me to send for you, even though that is unlikely, because I know that you are not opening these boxes, and that’s okay. I’m still going to send them, because that’s what fathers do for their daughters. Or maybe it’s just what I do for you, my sweet girl.
I hope one day you’ll be ready to open these, but if that day never comes, that will also be okay.
Much love,
Simon
Five times I read the note, and then I cannot get to my phone fast enough.
“Hi, kiddo. How are you?” Simon answers with his usual cheer.
“How did you know I wasn’t opening the care packages?” I demand.
He laughs. “Well, honey, every time you call to thank me, you are very polite but very vague. I figured that if you’d been opening them, I would have heard something about the inflatable unicorn, which I knew you wouldn’t find funny, but I do.”