Chapter 5: Sunday Night Nobu

We're sitting at a table near the window and Derek is talking about real estate and Jennifer is nodding and Chloe is on her phone under the table and I'm drinking a Sapporo and watching people walk past on PCH and wondering how much longer this dinner is going to last.

Derek orders the black cod miso. Jennifer gets the yellowtail sashimi with jalapeño. Chloe orders chicken teriyaki and Jennifer starts to say something about her being more adventurous but stops. I get the salmon teriyaki and edamame.

"So Chloe tells me you two are going to New York," Derek says and I look at Chloe and she looks at me and I can see the panic in her eyes.

"I might have mentioned it to Mom this morning," she says quietly.

Jennifer puts down her wine glass. "You're taking her out of school for ten days."

"It's a work trip," I say. "She'll miss a week. She can make it up."

"Without asking me."

"I'm asking you now."

Derek clears his throat. "Maybe this is something you two should discuss privately."

"Maybe you should stay out of it," I say.

"Dad," Chloe says.

"It's fine," Derek says but his smile is gone now.

"It's not fine," Jennifer says. "You can't just make decisions about her without talking to me first."

"You're dating someone new and bringing him around without talking to me first."

"That's different."

"How is it different."

"Because it's my life. Chloe is both of our responsibility."

"I'm right here," Chloe says again but no one is listening.

The food arrives. The server places each dish carefully and asks if we need anything else and we all say no and he leaves and we sit in silence.

Derek cuts his black cod into small pieces. Jennifer picks at her yellowtail. Chloe stares at her chicken. I drink my beer.

"I want to go," Chloe says.

Jennifer looks at her. "What."

"To New York. I want to go. We never do anything together anymore. Just me and Dad. It's always schedules and custody and whose week it is and I'm tired of it."

"Sweetheart," Jennifer starts but Chloe interrupts.

"I'm not asking. I'm telling you. I'm going."

"You're fifteen," Jennifer says. "You don't get to tell us anything."

"Then stop me," Chloe says and she stands up and walks out of the restaurant and I watch her go and then I stand up too.

"Where are you going," Jennifer says.

"After my daughter," I say.

I leave money on the table, more than enough to cover everything, and I walk out and Chloe is standing on the sidewalk and she's crying and I put my arm around her and we stand there and cars pass and the ocean is somewhere out there in the dark making sounds that no one can hear over the traffic.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"Don't be," I say.

"I ruined dinner."

"Dinner was already ruined."

She laughs a little through her tears. "She's going to say no. To New York."

"Probably," I say.

"So what do we do."

I look at her and I think about all the times I've tried to do the right thing and failed and all the times I've done the wrong thing and it turned out okay anyway and I think about what Jennifer said about responsibility and what Chloe said about never doing anything together and I think about how in a few years she'll be gone, off to college or moved out or living her own life, and these moments, right now, this is all we get.

"We go anyway," I say.

She looks up at me. "Really."

"Really."

"Mom is going to kill you."

"Probably," I say again.

She wipes her eyes and smiles and she takes my hand and we walk to the Audi and I open the door for her and she gets in and I get in the driver's side and I start the car and the radio comes on, some song I don't know, and Chloe doesn't change it and we drive toward Brentwood and neither of us says anything and the city spreads out around us, all lights and movement and people living their lives in houses we'll never see, and I think that maybe this is enough, maybe this moment right here is all anyone gets, and maybe that has to be okay.

When we pull into the driveway Chloe turns to me.

"Thank you," she says.

"For what."

"For choosing me."

And I want to tell her that it's not a choice, that she's my daughter and that's not something I choose, it's something I am, but I know what she means and I know she's right and I know that for too long I haven't chosen her, I've chosen my work or my pride or my anger or my own comfort, and I want to tell her that I'll always choose her from now on but I know that's not a promise I can make because I'll fail again and probably soon.

So instead I say, "Always," and I hope it's true.

We go inside and she goes upstairs and I hear her door close and I stand in the kitchen in my house that she hates and I pour a glass of Macallan and I sit at the counter and my phone buzzes and it's Jennifer and I don't answer and it buzzes again and again and finally I turn it off and I sit in the silence and I drink my whiskey and I think about New York and what happens after and I don't have any answers but for the first time in a long time I don't mind not knowing.