“Sure am. So I need all ten toes for now. But once I retire I can take up knife juggling, just like I’ve always wanted.”
Nina and Narelle both chuckled. Nothing from his father, as Nick had expected.
“Where in America do you dance, Carly?” his mum asked, after a quick, tense glance at Rod. At least she was trying.
“New York Ballet. I’ve been there my whole career, so, thirteen years now. And I was at the school before that.”
“Wow, that’s a top-notch company, isn’t it? Very impressive,” his mum nodded. “And do you like living in New York?”
“I’ve never lived anywhere else,” Carly shrugged. “I don’t think I ever want to.”
“So you grew up in New York,” his father said suddenly. It was a statement, not a question. All four other sets of eyes at the table swung towards him as he set his cutlery down and looked Carly full in the face for the first time. Nick’s shoulders tightened again at the tone of his father’s voice, firm and ready for a fight.
“Yes, born and raised,” Carly said, her pride audible even through the tight smile she was reserving just for him.
“And your parents, they still live there? Nearby?”
“Rod,” his mother hissed out of the corner of her mouth, but he ignored her.
“They do. On the same subway line, in fact.”
“And how do you think they would feel if you packed up one day and moved to the other side of the world without telling them?”
“Dad, come on,” Nina said. When he didn’t respond, keeping his eyes fixed on Carly, Nina shook her head and took a large swig of wine.
Carly glanced at Nick, who had already opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t have to answer the question. But she placed her hand on his, just like she’d done in the car earlier.
“My parents want me to be happy and successful, Mr. Jacobs.” Nick was impressed by how level her voice was, even though she must be furious by now. “They’re not interested in holding me back. And if I had to go to the other side of the world to have the career I wanted to have, they’d want to support me.”
Financially, at least. Nick knew full well that her parents barely understood her decision to move to the other end of Manhattan, but he appreciated her willingness to stray from the absolute truth for him.
His father looked unmoved, but he didn’t reply immediately, and Nina jumped into the silence.
“Nick, why don’t you tell us about—”
“And how do you think they would feel if you stayed away for years, Ms. Montgomery,” his dad interrupted, in full principal mode now, “and threatened to never come home again?”
“Rod, that’s enough,” his mum said, louder this time. She shot a look of mingled apology and exasperation at Nick. “You know that’s not what Nicholas meant. You were both angry, like you are now, and you said things you shouldn’t have said.” Nick wanted to agree with her, though part of him never wanted to come home again if this was what it was going to be like. But he said nothing, and she kept talking.
“But for heaven’s sake, it was years ago, and Nicholas has come home, and now that he’s retired, maybe he’ll stay a while. Or forever,” she added hopefully. “You can be a photographer anywhere, after all.”
Nick’s mind went numb with rage, and for a moment all he could do was stare at his mother. He blinked, trying to muster up a response, but Carly had found one first. When she spoke, her voice hot and furious, every ounce of sugar and syrup evaporated.
“Your son went out into the world when he was basically still a child and managed to find a job in one of the best companies in one of the most competitive industries in the world. He held on to that job and was so good at it that he was promoted within just a few years, then gotanotherjob at the oldest and most respected ballet company on the whole planet. And then he retired and carved out an entirely new career inanotherextremely competitive industry, where he’s absolutely killing it, and—”
“Carly, it’s okay, just—” Nick started, his cheeks warm from a miserable cocktail of gratitude and shame. He appreciated that she was defending him, but the thought of her defending a lie—a lie he’d let her believe—made his skin crawl. He shook his head, trying to get her to stop, but he should have known that once she started, there was no stopping her. She pushed her chair back and stood, back rigid and knees locked.
“No, it’s not okay. It’s not okay at all! They should be proud of you! You worked so hard for this, you sacrificed so much, and maybe you’ve done things differently from how they wanted you to do it, but you’re fuckingdoing it, Nick, and you’re good at it. And they should respect that!” She glared at his father, who was staring up at her with his fork suspended a few centimetres above his plate. Nick glanced at his mother, whose eyes were glassy. Next to her, Nina was clutching her wine glass and watching Carly with a mix of alarm and awe.
Carly turned to his Dad, face alight with righteous fury. “Your son is talented. Really, really talented. I mean, do you know how good you have to be to be aballet photographerinFrance? The country that invented balletandphotography? Most parents would kill for a kid like this, someone who’s serious and smart and successful at whatever they decide to do—”
“Carly, let it go,” Nick said, louder this time. “You don’t have to—Let’s just go.” He got to his feet, heart racing with adrenaline but his limbs heavy.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Carly agreed, looking down at him, eyes blazing. Her cheeks were pink under her freckles, and her chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths. She grabbed her bag from the back of her chair and tossed it over her shoulder, then threw one last, disgusted look at his father. “I feel sick.”
She turned on her heel and marched out of the kitchen, and Nick followed, a little dazed, as she stalked down the hall to the front door. He’d never been one for storming out, but maybe Carly was onto something. This felt damn good. She wrenched open the front door, and he was about to follow her through it when Nina came dashing down the hallway calling his name.
“Go, I’ll meet you in the car,” he told Carly. She looked for a moment like she was going to ignore him, but then she turned and marched down the front steps and threw herself into the front seat.
