The Commitment(82)

"Oh, honey, you should have told him right away," she said, her voice filled with warning. "Honesty is the best policy. Tell him as soon as you get a chance, in case he does see it."

"I will. I know it was a mistake."

My dad popped his head in the kitchen. "What was a mistake?"

I shook my head and gave him a hug. "Oh, nothing Daddy."

He hugged me back and laughed. "What's this for?"

"Just glad to see you."

He squeezed me and then kept his arm around my shoulder when our embrace ended. "Where's that man of yours? I didn't see his coat in the closet."

"He'll be here soon," I said, swallowing hard, my anxiety growing about seeing Drake. "He's running an errand of some kind."

"Hope he gets here soon. I'm starved."

"Me, too," Elaine said, putting the salad in the refrigerator. "Let's go wait in the living room."

I followed my father and sat next to him on the couch, while Elaine went to the music system and put something on – her usual favorite jazz. After some chitchat on my father's campaign, I checked my watch – it was already 12:45 and so Drake had been more than fifteen minutes. That wasn't like him at all – he was usually exceptionally conscious of appointments, and was often early. I began to have a bad feeling about things.

The three of us sat and talked about the weather, which was nice but cold, then we talked about their viruses, and how their symptoms cleared up. We talked about my father's new videoconferencing app on his phone. When I checked my watch again, it was one o'clock and there was nothing from Drake on my phone or email.

He had to have seen the photograph some time when he was out, and was upset.

That had to be the only reason.

Finally, at about ten after one, almost an hour since he dropped me off, the door opened and in came Drake, a scarf around his neck, a bunch of roses in his hand – yellow roses and baby's breath. His cheeks were rosy and he looked fine, a smile on his face.

"There you are, young man," my father said. "We were beginning to worry about you."

Elaine got up and went to Drake first, catching my eye on the way. I rose and went to the entrance behind her.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his voice soft. "I wanted to stop and get you something on my way. Here," he said, handing the bouquet of roses to Elaine. "Something to brighten up the table." In his other hand was a bottle of champagne.

Elaine accepted the bouquet and smiled, then leaned over and kissed Drake on the cheek.

"Why thank you so much, Drake. Fresh flowers are always nice." She went past me and raised her eyebrows. "I'll go put them in some water."

My father stepped up and took the champagne. "I'll get some glasses," he said, smiling. "We have lots to celebrate."

I went to Drake, relieved that he seemed none the wiser about the photograph. In fact, he seemed really happy. After he hung up his coat and removed his boots, he leaned down to give me a warm kiss.

My father returned with four champagne glasses on a tray, the bottle in a chiller. We all sat down while my father opened the bottle.

Drake turned to my father, who poured the champagne into the glasses.

"Ethan," he said. "Good to see you're feeling better."

"You as well, young man. You're a hero with all that's happened this past week."

Drake shook his head and put his arm around my shoulders, leaning back. "I'm no hero," he said. "Liam's my son. It was the least I could do."

It was then I noticed the New York Weekly folded up on the side table. My face heated when I saw it, and all I could think of was keeping Drake busy so he wouldn't read it. I turned my back to the paper as if I could use my body to block his view. Elaine came in with the vase of flowers, and expertly put the vase down on the side table, removing the paper as she did. I watched as she surreptitiously held the paper behind her back and then left the room, depositing the paper in a magazine holder by the door.

She smiled at me from the doorway. "Katie, do you want to help me in the kitchen?"

I sighed, glad she thought to hide the paper. My father would keep Drake occupied until lunch. I would tell Drake about the photograph, but not now and not here at my parent's apartment. I didn't want any drama to happen in front of them.

I stood up to leave, but when I got to the door, my father's cell phone rang and he looked at the call display.

"Oh, damn," he said, shaking his head. "Gotta take this, Drake. You relax for a bit, read the paper, watch some headlines."

My father handed Drake the channel changer and glanced around for the paper, but luckily, he didn't see it.

"No problem, Ethan. I had a busy morning so I'm glad to take it easy for a moment."