Page 35 of Second Chance

After a few minutes, the decisive jingle of the bell in the front office announces her departure.

Tony closes the hood and wipes it down.

It’s only when he hears Kyle’s voice that he realizes they haven’t talked all day. “You doing okay, kid?”

Tony knows he should appreciate it. It’s the question he wishes Gianna would answer. It’s the question he wishes she would askhimsometimes.

“I’m not a kid.”

“Just checking. That’s me done for the day too.”

“See ya.”

Daniel texted him some time in the afternoon to let Tony know he’s out of detergent, so Tony detours through Red Hook on his way back from Kingston. It would be way faster to hit up the Target at the Kingston Mall, but the Hannaford’s in Red Hook has the bougie brand of pesto Daniel likes and also a significantly lower likelihood of Tony running into someone he vaguely knows and has to make small talk with. Anyway, if he’s picking Daniel up at work, he’d have to cross the bridge either way.

It seems a solid idea all the way up until he remembers the road works blocking the direct road from Kingston, which means he has to drive through Red Hook proper. Red Hook is the worst. The intersection by the gas station collects all the rush hour traffic running between Rhinebeck and Germantown. When the road was built, apparently no one remembered people sometimes turn left at intersections, so there are ten- to fifteen-minute waits at a red light every time Tony ends up here because some bozo in a pickup has essentially parked in the middle of the road. For a hot second, from a distance of half a mile, Tony thinks he’ll get lucky. But sure enough, the light turns red before more than two cars can get through. Tony gets stuck behind the goddamn Lobell college shuttle at the worst intersection in the state.

He’s not kidding. Based on this intersection alone, he cannot fathom someone got paid to do urban planning in this town.

“Swear to god,” he mutters to no one in particular, grinding to a sudden halt behind the shuttle, right next to the dinky little tea shop Gianna loves. “I’m gonna petition Andrew Cuomo personally to build a fucking left-turn lane.”

Behind him, someone honks way too close for comfort.

Tony gnashes his teeth, lifting his foot off the brake and rolling forward the scant few inches between him and the shuttle.

He checks the rearview mirror.

It’s that goddamn ’07 Toyota Camry. Ironic mustache Sean sits in the passenger seat, and Lily rolls to a stop way too close for comfort. In the mirror, he can see she’s been crying. Even after nearly rear-ending him, her eyes aren’t on the road. Instead, she’s staring at her boyfriend and gesticulating wildly.Her hands are still on the wheel, but she slaps it several times in quick succession as if to make her agitation disappear.

A wordless sound of frustration makes its way out of Tony’s throat.

Neither of them should be behind the wheel. They’re a danger on the roads. And why the fuck Lily’s the one driving when she found her professor stabbed less than three days ago is a mystery for the ages. She seems as though she’s unstable enough to leave threatening messages on her professor’s door.

After another two full cycles of the traffic lights up ahead, Tony to makes it around the corner, and he spends the entire interim staring at Lily in the mirror. She’s obviously upset, talking nonstop, hands flying around. Sean’s mouth barely moves in response, but his hand is on her shoulder. As far as Tony can tell, this does not calm her down. A pang goes through him. He wonders if he would have been that calm, that stable at Sean’s age. He doubts he would have been able to keep it together for someone else to the extent Sean is. At least Sean has Colette to talk to. It’s good he knows to seek out help. Whatever Lily is going through, he can’t carry it for her, and by the looks of it, trying is making it harder on them both.

Tony hopes he’s never too much for Daniel to carry.

Tony shakes himself out of his reverie when traffic starts up again, and he can finally get to the store. He rushes through shopping, then dumps the detergent and some things for dinner tomorrow in the back seat.

Daniel waits for him in the big parking lot at the back of the lecture hall at Lobell. He’s dressed for work in a light blue button-up, beige pants, and the leather briefcase Tony laughed at the first time he saw it. The shirt brings out Daniel’s eyes. If Tony didn’t know better, he’d think everything was fine. But heknows Daniel well enough by now to read the troubled tension lingering around the corners of his mouth.

“How was your day?” he asks as Daniel gets into the car.

Daniel sighs, rubbing his palms over his face. “Not great.”

Tony reverses out of his parking space, ignoring the little sputter the motor does every time he switches gear. Time to check under the hood again soon. This car, it’s killing him. “You gonna elaborate?” He switches to drive and exits the lot.

“Do you want me to?” Daniel shifts in his seat. “It’s all about…”

“I’d rather know.”

Daniel doesn’t immediately start talking.

“Look, you have way more reason than me to be upset. You knew Amelia Lawrence. You’re—”

“It’s not a competition.”

He’s so fucking calm.

---