Chapter 7: Lance in the Morning
He was waiting in the lobby at seven.
I had come down for coffee, leaving the kids asleep with a note on the nightstand.
Lance was in the same clothes as the night before, sitting in one of the low chairs near the entrance with a paper cup in his hands that had gone cold.
He stood when he saw me.
"Thank you," he said.
I didn't answer.
I got my coffee from the counter and sat across from him.
He looked like a man who had not slept.
His eyes were red at the edges and his jaw carried the particular tension of someone who had been rehearsing a conversation for hours and still didn't know how to begin it.
"I'm not going to pretend last night didn't happen," he said.
"Good."
"And I'm not going to pretend I've treated you fairly."
"Also good."
He turned the paper cup in his hands.
"What Raymond told you — it's true.
I found out about Carol and Renee in 2019.
Dad told me because he was panicking.
Renee had started sending letters and he didn't know what to do."
"And you decided to use it."
Lance's jaw moved.
"I told myself it wasn't like that.
I told myself I was just — that Dad owed me.
That he'd always given Courtney more.
That I'd been overlooked my whole life." He stopped.
"That's not an excuse.
I know that."
"What do you want from me, Lance?"
He looked up.
"I want to tell you something that I should have told you a long time ago." He set the cup down.
"The $85,000 — Dad didn't use all of it for Carol.
About $30,000 of it went to cover a debt that was mine.
A real one.
Not an investment gone wrong.
A gambling debt.
I was in serious trouble and I went to Dad and he used your money to get me out of it."
The lobby was quiet.
A family with young children crossed toward the elevator, the smallest one dragging a stuffed rabbit by one ear.
"You've known that for twelve years," I said.
"Yes."
"And every time you borrowed money from me after that—"
"I knew." He didn't look away.
"I knew what he'd done with your money and I kept coming back to you anyway.
Because you always said yes.
Because it was easy." He exhaled.
"I've been a coward, Brandon.
For a very long time."
I drank my coffee.
"What do you want me to do with this?" I asked.
"I don't know.
I'm not asking you to forgive me.
I don't think I've earned that." He reached into his pocket and set something on the table between us.
A folded check.
"It's not the full amount.
It's $8,000.
It's everything in my account right now.
I'm going to pay back the rest.
However long it takes."
I looked at the check.
I didn't pick it up.
"The position in Phoenix," I said.
"It's real this time.
I have a second interview next week.
Systems operations manager.
It's real work.
I need it to be real." He paused.
"I have a daughter, Brandon.
She's four.
Her name is Maya.
I haven't been the kind of father I want to be.
I'm trying to change that."
I hadn't known about Maya.
In twelve years, Lance had never mentioned a daughter.
"Does she live with you?"
"Every other week.
Her mother and I aren't together." He looked at the table.
"Maya asked me last month why she doesn't have a grandpa like her friends do.
I didn't know what to say."
The stuffed rabbit family had made it to the elevator.
The doors closed.
"I'm going to open Walter's letter today," I said.
Lance nodded slowly.
"Whatever it says — I think he means it.
He's not a good man in a lot of ways.
But he's not entirely bad either.
He's just been afraid for a very long time."
"Afraid of what?"
"Of being seen clearly." Lance stood.
He picked up the cold paper cup and held it like he didn't know what to do with it.
"I think last night was the first time in his life that someone made him stand still long enough for that to happen."
He left the check on the table.
He walked out through the lobby doors into the San Diego morning.
I sat with my coffee and looked at the check for a long time.
Then I picked it up, folded it, and put it in my pocket.
Not because it fixed anything.
Because he had shown up.
And that was different from every time before.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Courtney.
*Kids are awake.
Paige is asking for you.
She wants to know if you'll take her to see the ocean before we leave.*
I read it twice.
Then I typed back: *Tell her I'll be up in five minutes.*
I finished my coffee.
On the way to the elevator I passed the front desk.
"Excuse me," I said.
"Can you tell me the checkout time?"
"Noon, sir."
I had four hours.
I went upstairs, changed into something comfortable, and knocked on Courtney's door.
She opened it.
Paige was behind her in a yellow sweater, her hair still messy from sleep, holding her shoes in both hands.
"Dad!" She ran at me.
I caught her.
Over her shoulder, Courtney looked at me with an expression I hadn't seen from her in a long time.
Not managed.
Not careful.
Just open.
"Can I come?" she asked quietly.
I looked at her for a moment.
"Yeah," I said.
May you like
"Come on."
We took the elevator down together, the four of us, and walked out into the morning.
