Sat in a bar in Boston that evening, Rosalie waited for her father to join her. She hadn't spoken to Alan for the remainder of the day, letting him get on with his case. She had returned home, showered, changed into her best suit and caught a taxi to her appointment across the river. And now she needed to speak to Denny. She sipped her second gin martini and waited for him to arrive impatiently, hoping he hadn't forgotten about her. He'd forgotten she was coming, but luckily she had called ahead to his housekeeper and secretary. He was okay most of the time she felt, but the little things passed him by. Which was okay at this stage, as she had learned from speaking to some of the foremost scientists in the country about it, but at some point, it would start to decline. It worried her. She looked up as he blustered into the room, making a beeline for her and beaming.
"Rosie! Sorry I'm late, I was having my usual scotch and cigar with Alan."
"It's fine Dad, don't worry. Another scotch?" She motioned to the waiter as she got up to hug him.
"Is the Pope Catholic?" He squeezed her tight before settling into his chair. "So, you and Alan are back on then?"
"What did he tell you?" She sipped her martini again.
"He didn't have to tell me. He looked well-rested and didn't hit on the sandwich lady." Rosalie chuckled as the scotch arrived.
"If that's all it takes then I'm never trusting him with a secret."
"You're too easy to read, Rosie. I had no idea until you just told me."
"Oh Dad, don't cross-examine me. I'm not a witness."
"I'm happy for you both. I really am." Denny raised his glass to his daughter and she toasted with him. "If you're happy, I'm happy sweetheart."
"Thanks Dad."
"So, what was so urgent that you wanted to go for a drink? You look nice. Is that why?"
"I uh… I had an appointment and I wanted to talk to you about it."
"Are you pregnant? Do they make you dress up for that now?"
"No! No I'm not pregnant." Rosalie shushed him, looking around her. "Do you think I'd be drinking if I was having a baby?"
"I drank the whole way through your mother's pregnancy," shrugged Denny.
"That's… yeah okay, whatever." She gulped the last of her martini and signalled for another round of drinks. "Do you remember when I called you from France, and I said I'd been chatting to an old classmate of mine?"
"If I say yes?"
"Okay, I'll take it as read that you do. Well, I had a few conversations with him, and it turns out that there's a position at Harvard for a research fellowship in the Classics department."
"That sounds good, I love the classics. The Rat Pack, the Constitution, my first wife." The drinks arrived and Rosalie frowned at him.
"No Dad, Classics as in classic civilizations. The thing I teach, remember?"
"Don't get so snippy, I'm joking with you." He downed his scotch and reached for the second. "So what does that mean?"
"More money, a more prestigious college, less teaching time… and I'd be in Boston." She turned the olive around in the glass and looked at him. "What do you think?"
"More money sounds good to me," he said as he sipped his scotch. "What you think is the most important thing. Making sure you're doing this for the right reasons."
"I'm doing it to be closer to you, Dad."
"Not Alan?" She sighed and rubbed her forehead.
"No. But also yes. I don't know."
"What's confusing you?"
"I don't know how he feels about me. One minute he's looking at me like I'm the only thing on the planet, and the next he pushes me away again."
"Alan isn't good at being happy, Rosie. That's the long and the short of it. But for what it's worth, I do think that he cares very deeply for you. I know he missed you whilst you were gone."
"He did?"
"Oh absolutely. He wasn't himself for weeks. Hardly ate, hardly slept… terrible."
"Thanks Dad." She smiled and rubbed his arm affectionately. "How's the Mad Cow treating you these days?"
"Mooing away like ever," Denny chuckled. "I'm fine, stop worrying. Why don't you call Alan and see if you two kids can get together? It was a long day today, I won of course, but he'd like to hear from you."
"Dad, isn't it weird you're encouraging me to date your best friend?"
"Of course not, I'm the best advocate he has."
An hour later, Rosalie arrived at Alan's room with a bottle of champagne.
"Champagne and that kind of suit? What did I do wrong?"
"Do you really want to know?" She slipped into the room and kissed him gently.
"Well you don't have to tell me but we don't usually have champagne." He rubbed her lower back and moved towards the phone. "I'll have room service bring glasses and an ice bucket. Did you have a nice evening with Denny?"
"I did actually," she said, taking off her shoes off. "He told me you missed me."
"I told you that."
"But now it's corroborated." She smiled and unbuttoned her jacket, sitting on the couch to rub the balls of her stockinged feet. Alan made the call and came to sit next to her, taking her left foot in his hands and deftly massaging it. "Mmm, thank you."
"So what occasions champagne, this suit and you arriving so late?"
"Wait till the glasses get here." She tipped her head back and nestled into the arm of the couch as he switched to her right foot. "I heard you won your case today."
"I did. Murder trial. Our client was innocent."
"I'm pleased for you. I suppose I ought to carry on with my paper tomorrow."
"You mean you haven't finished it yet?" She scoffed.
"Try hardly started it. I can't get the structure right." There was a gentle knock at the door and Alan got up to fetch the ice bucket and flutes.
"I can run through it with you if you'd like. I always thought papers were like legal arguments, you just need a good opening and closing." He brought them back to the coffee table and put the bottle in the bucket, laying the glasses gently on top, before sitting back down and picking her feet up again.
"That would probably help," she said with a smile, looking back up at him. His eyes were concentrated on her foot, deftly pushing the pressure points between each toe. The martinis had gone to her head and she felt things becoming a little fuzzy. "Mmm. I love… when you do that." She caught herself in time she thought.
"Are you drunk?" Alan said with a smile.
"Maybe a little. I had martinis with Dad." She pulled her feet back towards her and wrapped her arms around her knees.
"I'm glad you two sorted things out."
"Me too. I missed him." Alan touched the champagne bottle to test its coolness.
"This feels suitably chilled. Can I open it now and you can tell me the big secret?"
"Of course." She watched him expertly tear the foil from the cork, twist the metal cage and quietly pop the cork out, before pouring two glasses.
"What are we drinking to?"
"The future," she said, meeting his gaze as they gently touched the flutes together. "I got a new job."
"Well, congratulations!" Alan felt the breath catch slightly in his throat. She was already in New York which was far enough to be a nuisance. What if she had taken a job at Yale? Arguably more prestigious than Columbia. Or maybe Brown, or even Dartmouth? Or worse, France?
"I'm taking a fellowship at Harvard," she said shyly.
"Harvard?! That's… It's…" He found himself speechless. He had never considered having her become a permanent fixture in his life, no matter how much he'd enjoyed having her there with him. He suddenly saw a flash into the future; the two of them growing apart, resenting each other, her envying his friendship with her father, he envying their natural bond as father and daughter, her inevitable dismay at the lack of children and marriage…
"I told you I have a new job, not that I'm dying, Alan," Rosalie laughed nervously as she watched colour drain from his face. "It's good news."
"I don't understand why."
"The money is better, the grants are better. I'd be teaching less and spending more time working. I'm closer to Dad." She studied his face. "I-I thought you'd be happy."
"I'm very happy for you, but… I thought we said we were going to take things slow."
"It's not a five year plan Alan. I made a career choice. My tenure is up at Columbia soon and I want this fellowship. I can really make a difference there." She drained her champagne and shook her head disbelievingly. "You don't change do you? We spend a month practically living together and you love it, but the second someone makes so much as a movement towards commitment you run away with your tail between your legs."
"Rosalie, I didn't mean it like that. You've been drinking. Let's take a minute."
"I don't want to take a minute." She put her flute down on the coffee table forcefully and stood up. "Don't get me wrong, I wasn't expecting a marching band, but I didn't think you'd make this all about you." She pulled her shoes on and grabbed her jacket and handbag.
"Don't go for Christ's sakes, you're in no state to go out there alone," Alan said, trying to block her way to the door.
"Stop it Alan. Just stop it. You don't get everything your way," she spat, pushing past him and leaving the room.
