“I know who you are,” he says, his tone easy. Looking back at Addison, he says, “How do you two know each other?”
“We go to school together.”
“Huh. Wow. Where are you going to college anyway?”
“Harvard Law actually,” she says, her voice devoid of enthusiasm.
“No kidding! Good for you. I always knew you’d make something of yourself.”
“I’m trying.”
From the way she’s glaring, I’m wondering if I should tell this man to feck off.
“Sounds like you’re succeeding. Well, I’m going on a beer run. You and Henry should come down and say hi to Nora and the kids.” He gestures to a blond woman who is sitting several rows down with three teenagers, all of whom are staring.
“Yeah, maybe we’ll do that,” Addison says.
“Okay, great,” he says. “Listen, since you’re living so close now you really should come by for dinner some night. Prince Henry, too.”
Addison’s voice grows tight. “I’
m pretty busy with school and work, so…”
Phillip nods, a look of understanding crossing his face. “I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, hey?”
“Well sometimes the tree punt kicks the apple out of his life when the apple is three and she ends up living in a trailer park with her junkie mother and has to claw her way out of poverty so she learns to work really hard.”
Phillip sighs, then runs his tongue over his teeth, looking very put out. “Okay, maybe some day you’ll change your mind about me.”
“Could happen, say if someone invents a time machine and you go back and decide not to abandon your daughter.”
He stiffens a bit, then looks at me and says, “Nice to meet you, Henry.”
With that, he jogs up the steps and out of sight.
Addison sits quietly next to me, blinking back tears. I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Your father?”
Nodding, she says, “That’s his preferred family down there. The ones who matter to him.”
“What an arsehole.”
She laughs a little through her tears, and I pull her to me and give her a kiss on the lips. “You want to get out of here?”
“Can we?”
“Of course.”
***
Dusk is starting to fall as we walk along the streets of Boston, hand in hand. Addison is quiet and hurt and I hate like hell to see her like this.
“Do you want to get some dinner?” I ask.
“I’m not really hungry, but I’ll sit with you if you want to eat.”
“No, I’m not hungry either.” I guide us into a small park surrounded by trees that have yet to drop their red and yellow leaves. Finding a bench, I sit and gently tug her hand so she’ll join me.
As soon as we’re sitting, I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her to me. Addison rests her head on my shoulder and after a minute, I can tell by her jagged breaths that she’s crying. Pressing my lips to her head, I kiss her, then rub my hand up and down her arm, wanting her to feel that I’m here for her.