only problem is that the girl that I want isn't available.
"What's going to happen with Leslie?" I ask.
He shrugs and takes a bite of his hash browns.
"I like her a lot," he admits, "even if she has children."
"You don't want children?" I ask.
"No, it's not that. It's just that I don't know how I would be as a stepfather. But it's not like any of that matters. She lives here. She is still technically married-"
"Her husband did leave her eighteen months ago and she hasn't heard from him since," I point out. "I'm not sure that she's exactly married in the traditional sense."
"That may be the case but, come on now, Henry. This isn't realistic. I mean, I live in New York. She lives in Louisville. She has two kids. She has a job."
"She's a waitress," I say. "Nothing against waitressing, but I'm pretty certain that she can get that kind of position in New York as well, and it probably pays a lot better."
"Look, I would love to ask her to come with me, but where? I live in a studio apartment. What, is she gonna leave her kids here? Besides, you know that her parents don't approve of me."
"Fuck that," I say.
"They’re still her parents and they help her take care of the kids and she lives with them."
"They're racists," I insist. "The only reason they don't approve of you is that you're black."
"Whatever," Liam says, waving his hand. "They are a big part of her life and I don't know if I can fill whatever void they would leave if she were to come with me."
"Listen," I say, finishing the last of my pancakes. "I know that this is kind of a complicated situation, but I just want to tell you not to waste your chance. If there's even an inkling in your mind that this girl might be the right one for you, I want you to do everything in your power to make her yours."
"Is that your advice to me? Or is that the advice that you would give yourself?" he asks.
Of course, I'm talking about Aurora.
Given everything that happened between us, I have a lot of regrets.
That's just how things are.
"You're my friend and I don't want you to make the same mistakes I have," I say quietly.
8
Aurora
The interviewer arrives at twilight, just as the city is settling in for the evening. She is a peppy and eager woman in her mid-20s with a red mane that cascades down her back. She smiles and nods taking down everything that Franklin says.
She’s just as methodical in jotting down my words, but something is different, nevertheless.
She knows exactly how influential Franklin can be in her career.
She wants to make a good impression and she wants him to like this article.
"So, how is it that you two met?" she asks, bringing her pen to her mouth.
When Franklin glances at her, her eyes light up, and he looks her up and down the way that men assess women at bars.
This is the man that I’m going to marry and he can’t even contain himself during our engagement interview for the New York Chronicle.
I can’t let this bother me I decide. He is acting polite and approachable and that's what I need to do.
I glance over at the videographer who has his camera pointed in my face.
"Would you mind if I confirm a few facts for the background material?" Danielle asks.
We are sitting in Franklin‘s living room, which is currently disguised as a stage. There are lights everywhere and furniture has been rearranged so that it looks good on film.
"Of course not," I say.
She gives me a slight nod and then turns her attention back to Franklin.
"You have attended Princeton University and majored in economics?" she asks.
"Yes, with a concentration on finance."
"And before that, you attended Saint Ambrose, which is a boarding school?"
"Oh, no," he says, "are we going back all the way to high school?"
Danielle laughs. "Well, it is a very well-known school. They would appreciate it if I mention it."
"Yes, I’m sure that they would," Franklin admits. "The problem is that I won't."
He stares at her without changing his facial expression until she laughs uncomfortably.
"I graduated from Barnard College with a bachelor's degree in English and then I got my master’s and PhD at Columbia."
"What would you say it was like to go to an all-girls school?" Danielle asks.
I am slightly taken aback by how easily she dismissed my years of post-graduate work, but I take a