Philip Roth - Letting Go

“You’ve apologized already.”

“It was just so awful—” She was close to tears. “I can’t apologize enough.”

“So long as everything’s worked out.”

“You’ve never been anything but kind to me, Gabe.” Unable to control her emotions, she left the room. In the few minutes while she was gone, he put on his coat.

“I didn’t mean to drive you out,” she said, coming down the hall.

“I have to go home and fill out an application anyway.” He did not take the hand which she was holding a little way out from her side. “I only dropped by for a minute.”

“What are you applying for?”

“For a job in Istanbul — exotic, don’t you think?”

“Paul said you might not be staying next year.”

“I’m thinking of going abroad for a year or two.”

“We’re going to miss you. If we’re still here. Paul has given up on his Ph.D.”

“I didn’t know.”

“He’s given up writing, I think. Now he says he might want to teach in a high school. That’s okay with me — I don’t care where he teaches, so long as he stays happy.”

“Of course.”

“By the end of next year,” said Libby, moving rapidly on, “we’ll all be scattered all over the place again.” She had taken a step backwards into the hall. “Would you like to get a last look at Rachel?”

“No, I’d better—”

“Wait one second—” She ran off, leaving him to stand in his coat. What was she up to?

She reappeared just as abruptly. “There are just those little catches on the side of the crib. I couldn’t remember closing them. I’d put new sheets on, and then I couldn’t remember — As I said, I’m still the old nut I always was.”

To smile seemed inappropriate, but that was what he did. “It’s natural to worry, Libby.”

“I want to tell you something, Gabe.”

This girl! This girl!

“I want to tell you because I think you would want to know.”

“And what is that?”

“Sid, tonight when he called, told me that he was going to get married.”

He’d had no idea what she might be going to say. Even after she had spoken, he did not immediately see what the news had to do with him. “I didn’t know that,” he said.

“I wasn’t sure …”

“No, I didn’t know.”

“And I thought you would want to.”

Only now was he stunned. “Certainly, why not …”

“I saw her the other day, Gabe. Outside the co-op. I had Rachel in the carriage, and suddenly I turned and started pushing it the other way. I was actually running, and I knew it was noticeable, but I couldn’t help it. Remember that warm day we had? Well, that was it. I think she saw me, but I couldn’t stop myself. If she had looked into the carriage and seen Rachel, I knew it would break her heart. It would break mine. I go to bed and I lie awake, ever since that happened, and I think: Rachel’s going to smother under the blanket. I think I haven’t snapped those damn snaps, the ones that lower the bars on the side. I even thought of asking Paul to send this crib back for another model. Truly, I get up four and five times a night. I get up and I check — and then I wind up in bed, thinking about her. Every time I go down to the basement to hang up my wash, I somehow think of her little boy. I was probably rude and impolite again, and awful, but I just had to turn the carriage around and get away. Then when Sid told me he thought he was going to be married pretty soon … Well, I didn’t know if you knew or not — I don’t want to seem a gossip, but I thought you would want to hear.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

“I feel I’m talking about things that are none of my business—”

“It was a horrible thing, Libby. I suppose that makes it everybody’s business.”

She did not understand that he was trying to shut her up, but it was not entirely her obtuseness that was responsible — his tone had been vague. He realized that he wanted to hear even more. So did Libby.

“What — what does she … say about it? How does she feel now?” she asked him.

“I don’t know.”

“I thought perhaps you run into her. At the University.”

“We even manage not to run into one another.”

“I’m sorry, Gabe. It’s a hard thing to forget. It’s a hard thing not to talk about. I keep wondering what it’s like for her. I nearly called her once — I feel now how rotten I was with her, when I was being rotten and crazy with everyone. I almost called her one evening to come over for coffee. But I don’t even know what to say. You become somehow afraid of a person when something like that happens to him.”

“The best thing for all of us is to let the past be. There’s nothing anybody can do about it.”

“I feel terrible that she saw me and I kept running.”

She waited; he nodded. “I was going to say something to Sid,” she said. “He’s been so kind to us, he hasn’t charged a penny, and he’s been so concerned, so decent. I was going to ask him to explain for me to her … That’s it, you see, it would all have taken so much explanation.”

Despite his inability to keep his mind precisely on what he was about, by ten o’clock he had managed to complete both applications. He typed the address on each envelope, then settled back in his chair. It was done. By March he would hear, and by June he would be gone. There was really nothing more for him to do in the way of planning.

Except call Jaffe.

At first he could not explain why the idea had occurred to him. Then he remembered Libby saying that Jaffe had called her , and the nervousness she had expressed over the lawyer not giving her his message directly — at the same time that she had expressed gratitude for his reticence. What a girl! She still had the power to present her anxieties in such a way that they came to seem your anxieties. It did not appear to be an unconscious talent either — it never had. Doubtless what she had been hoping was that Gabe would volunteer on the spot to call Jaffe for her and to work out whatever little problem had arisen. But, of course, no problem of which she didn’t know the details beforehand could be imagined by Libby to be “little.” If Sid had called, what else but catastrophe! Theresa wanting Rachel for her own — or worse.

Was that even a legal possibility? He did not know the final ins and outs of the adoption. He had not even realized that Theresa would have to do any signing. Had Jaffe called to say Theresa wouldn’t sign? Was the natural father to sign too? Did he have to be dug up now? Would he meet the Herzes?

No, it probably wasn’t even necessary for the father to appear in the court at all. Whatever the necessities, Jaffe would take care of them; he was a capable man, he would see to it that everything was tight and binding; the Herzes would be protected. It was not his business to brood over the last-minute details; he had his own applications to mail. The Herzes were Rachel’s parents and they would have to work out matters for themselves.

With Jaffe’s help.

Why not? Surely he was better equipped than a layman to deal with whatever problem might have arisen; that he did not charge them for his services was his own affair … Not that if some last-minute help were needed, he himself wouldn’t step forward. If there was some foul-up concerning Theresa Haug, he felt he could solve it as well as anybody. Better, in fact. What he would have liked was for Jaffe to call him and ask that he be of assistance. He had no reason to believe, however, that Jaffe would ever again seek his help … which was precisely why he should call him. Call him. Yes, he would really like to do that. Jaffe should know that he was quite willing, and quite able, to play his part in this adoption right down to the end.