Page 16 of Moonstruck at Midnight
There was an Eiffel Tower metallic key chain inside. The note read:
For your new key to your new apartment.
We’ll always have Paris.
C. xx
April 16, 2009
CALEB DID SHOW UPthe day we left for New York, just FYI. We arrived home on April 12th, and I stayed in my father’s apartment for a few days because mine wasn’t ready yet. But it was ready now, and Caleb was driving my father and me there, alongside Aaron, for a change. I was finally going to move into my own place.
Caleb seemed thrilled. His reflection of the rearview mirror gave him away. He kept biting his lower lip, probably hoping to prevent an over-enthusiastic grin from sneaking out of his face.
Aaron was being Aaron: calm, cool, and collected. His navy-blue eyes stared out the window and through the side-view mirrors, casuallylooking out.He always managed to look relaxed yet in control of the situation.
My father refused to let go of my hand. His embrace felt warm and safe, and although we werehome,I could feel his reluctance to keep his word regarding my second birthday present.
We spent most of the flight back to New York talking through the conditions attached to his gift. We both had to compromise, but finally found common ground after a few rounds of negotiation.
My father asked for three conditions—the first one: asimple request.I had already transferred my credits from PCA to Parsons, but my father wanted me to enroll in a summer course there. He didn’t want me lazing around all summer.
I agreed. It was a perfect idea actually because I would get to know the school before starting the Fall semester.
His second request consisted of having Mrs. Mullins as my housekeeper.
A trap. I was getting a nanny.
I knew Mrs. Mullins’s job would include a weekly report to my father. And again, I was okay with it as long as I could experience a more independent life.
I don’t remember, but my father said I met Mrs. Mullins or Mimi (as he called her) when I was a child. And after years of having so many people living with us, I realized it couldn’t be that awful to have just one person helping me out.
I grew tired of not having real privacy, and my father knew that, but it wasn’t an unknown fact that Icouldn’tcook. For my safety and those in my building, it was best to have Mrs. Mullins handling the cooking for me.
And last but not least, athirdsecurity agent. Yup.Necessary and non-negotiable—that’s what my father kept repeating on the flight. The new agent would come directly from the DSS. Unlike Caleb and Aaron, who were approved by the DSS but hired independently.
I had overreacted with this request. It felt unfair, like going backward instead of making progress regarding this specific area of my life. This condition incited a heated debate.
If I wanted to roamfreelyin New York City, I was to agree to that. He explained how I would still have two agents on duty. The third would be incorporated to enable rotation on their schedules. My father supposed I would probably have a more demanding agenda in New York.
I had my doubts.
I was going to attempt for the first time to live a life of my very own. It was frightening as hell, but I needed it. I owed it to myself. I had felt so trapped for years, unaware of the comfortable cage I lived in.
The first step was to convince myself to get out. Even though Aaron and Caleb did an excellent job keeping me safe and comfortable, I would’ve thought progress meant having less security and not an additional agent following me around.
The past few months in Paris felt more careless, free. But a glacial sensation still gnawed at my chest and stomach as I tried to block out the memories and trauma about my mother’s death.
Four years had gone by since she was gone, but there were days when it still felt like yesterday. The worst part of all was not knowingwhyit happened. My father insisted they were still looking into it, and I bought that for a while, but it was evident that he kept something from me. I didn’t know anymore if it was best to stop asking—to not know at all.
But how to stop thinking about it?
I refused to talk about this matter with anyone, which wasn’t very useful in helping me process everything that happened. I thought I could do it myself—a few steps back to keep thrusting myself forward.
The car approached the sidewalk. A green canvas sunshade with golden poles sheltered the Midtown East’s pre-war building entrance.
“Four eighty-five Park, Mr. Murphy,” Caleb announced with his thick sexy accent as he shifted into park.
We were greeted by a couple of door guards: Senad, a tall, slender man, and Bruce, who was shorter and rocked a shaved head and frame-less glasses. They were both very friendly and asked us if we needed any help with my things. But Aaron and Caleb had everything under control.
