Page 93 of We Could Be So Good
But a newspaper is more than a legacy or a job or a family business—it’s a mouthpiece, a microphone, a way into the hearts and minds of hundreds of thousands of people. And Andy isn’t going to give that up lightly. There are probably dozens of people more deserving and better qualified than Andy to wield the power that publishing a newspaper would give them, but the fact is that Andy’s the one who does have this power, and he’s going to use it.
He spent his childhood watching his parents use their positions to influence the world—he’s not sure either of them would put it so baldly, but that’s what they did. His father’s still doing it, with every column inch he devotes to civil rights, with every story that treats progressive politics as something other than crypto-communism.
Andy can carry on doing that. He keeps thinking about thatVillage Voicearticle and he doesn’t know if it’s just wishful thinking, but if people like him are going to get the law on their side, then having a newspaper sure isn’t a bad thing.
“I want to run theChronicle,” he repeats. “But I don’t want to do it by myself, Dad. I’ve spent too long doing things by myself.” He doesn’t mean for it to be a rebuke, but he also doesn’t mind if his father takes it that way. The fact is that he’s never asked hisfather for anything. But he’s asking for this, and he needs his father to hear it.
“What I was thinking,” Andy goes on, “is that I take over as publisher in September, just as you planned. But you stay available as an adviser.”
“An adviser,” his father repeats.
“Someone with a lifetime’s worth of wisdom and experience who I can consult as I need to. You wouldn’t have to go into the office if you didn’t want.”
His father is silent for too long, staring at Andy, his drink forgotten in his hand. “You’re asking whether you can telephone me to ask for advice?”
“Well, yes.”
“Andy. Son. I— Of course you can.”
It’s really only then that Andy realizes what he’s asking for. He’s asking for his father to be a father. And it feels like the biggest favor he’s ever asked of anyone. He nearly apologizes, nearly explains that he doesn’t make a habit of asking for things, that he hates being a bother. But he thinks his father just figured that out.
His father is still looking at him, shocked and a little ashamed. Andy has to saysomething.
“I think it’ll be fun,” Andy says, bringing his glass to his mouth. “I have all kinds of ideas.”
“I always thought it was,” his father agrees, and raises his glass.
***
After his father goes to bed, Andy checks his watch. Somehow, despite having been awake for what feels like forty-eight hours, it’s not even ten o’clock.
He kneels in front of the television, searching for something towatch. A detective show, a police show, another detective show. No thanks. What Andy really wants to watch is the sort of sitcom that revolves around impish kids who get into minor scrapes, their well-dressed parents, and the adorable family dog. Obviously, he knows nobody’s life is that perfect; obviously, he knows the reason he likes those shows so much is because they’re a glimpse into a kind of stable family life he’s never known, but neither of those facts stop him from wanting to watch them.
It occurs to him, though, that hardly anybody he knows grew up that way, either. Nick certainly didn’t. Emily and Jeanne went to boarding school. Linda’s parents got divorced when she was a kid. Andy had always figured he’d have that kind of life when he grew up, but now that he knows queer people aren’t allowed it, he doesn’t want it. He feels cheated, like he’s gotten to the last page of a book and it turns out the whole story was a dream. The dog dies in the last chapter. You never find out who stole the diamond necklace.
The fact that this thing that’s been a source of such comfort to him probably never existed in any meaningful way makes him feel rattled. Everyone he knows is trying to assemble some kind of life from the spare parts they have lying around, just like Andy.
And, fuck it, that’s what Andy’s going to do. He doesn’t care if the world wants to give him space to make a life. He’s going to push and shove until he and Nick have the space they need and then he’s going to build the kind of life they want. If he wants someone to come home to, and if Nick wants to be that person, then Andy’s going to make sure they have it.
PartV
Nick
Chapter Twenty-Four
It’s only after Nick gets off the phone with his brother that he notices how thoroughly Andy has scrubbed the apartment of all traces of himself. Sure, his fancy dishes are still stacked in the cupboard and his chairs are still arranged around the table. But the bits of detritus that follow Andy around—gum wrappers and envelopes and books open facedown on every surface, including the stove—are gone. His razor and hairbrush are gone. His coffee mug has been cleaned and put away. The pajamas that Nick now thinks of as Andy’s are folded neatly at the foot of the bed.
Nick has never hated his apartment so much.
“Okay, slugger,” he says to his nephew, who’s sitting on the couch, halfheartedly watchingAmerican Bandstand. Nick has confiscated all the cigarettes and Sal is pretty unimpressed. “Your dad isn’t as pissed off as you might have thought.”
“Glad to get rid of me,” Sal mutters, which Nick suspects isn’t far from the truth. “Is he gonna let me stay with you tonight?”
“For the weekend.” Nick isn’t sure if that’s good enough. He still doesn’t know exactly what precipitated Sal running away that morning, only that he got on the subway to come here instead of getting on the bus to school. Nick retreats to the kitchen, notreturning until he has a glass of bourbon that’s a little too full, and sits down on the couch next to his nephew. “Is he hitting you?”
“Jesus, no. I keep telling you that he isn’t. My mom would murder him with her own hands.”
“Yeah, but I have to ask.”
