Chapter Text
Lenny came out of the hall with a book and handed it to Nathan who stared at the man in confusion. "Her letters are inside. I assumed that's why you came." says the man sitting down in the armchair and stretching his legs out on the coffee table.
Tara was still dumbfounded by the fact that her best friend's grandmother had a painting of someone Jackson fucking Pollock admired.
"Nathan, I need to see that painting. It's, like, a matter of life and death for me," says the woman grabbing Nathan's arm who laughs nervously.
"Hey, if she can see it, I can see it too!" says Lenny as if he were a child, making the two young men laugh. "Would you like some tea? Soda? Weed?" asks the man without even waiting for an answer from both of them, getting up and heading towards the kitchen.
"Did he...just offer us marijuana?" Nathan asks Tara thinking he had heard wrong.
"YES! This is the best job you've ever put me on!" the woman replies excitedly. "I'll take some soda, Mister Bruce!"
"I thought you said you'd rather be with Edgar?" asks Nathan opening the book that appeared to be real but was actually a disguised box, how cool was that?!
"That was like forever ago," says Tara arranging the books on the table so they could put their glasses on without spoiling anything and also on account of her perfectionist side not being so controlled with that mess of papers.
"Literally 10 minutes ago," Ethan replies, getting a slap on the arm from Tara.
Lenny returned extending a glass of soda to Tara who thanked the man, the gentleman sat down sipping some of his coffee that smelled like something other than coffee.
"Don't worry I've been sober for..." Lenny paused to count on his fingers dramatically. "45 years? 50 years?" he asks himself trying to remember the hazy times of rehab. "Long story short, sober longer than you two have been alive. I can indulge in an irish coffee now and then, especially when a Maisel is in my house."
Nathan was so distracted reading the letters that he didn't even notice the slight insult Lenny let out towards his grandfather. His grandmother's letters were, to say the least, passionate. She sent several, postcards, pictures, flowers, God she had sent a napkin because apparently the lipstick on it was from Diana Ross. A NAPKIN.
But then it was over, there was nothing more after 1985, which did not go unnoticed by Nathan after all, he was born in 1985 was no coincidence.
"Did you guys exchange letters after '85?" asks Maisel putting all the papers back into the book and holding out to the man who held that book with a masterful strength as if those letters were everything.
"As I recall, it wasn't really an exchange it was more like I was sending letters to Santa Claus." says Lenny half laughing putting the book in his lap sipping some more of his coffee.
"Oh." let out a surprised Tara. "So you haven't spoken in 25 years?"
"Pretty much but I was there when she last performed at the..." says Lenny, his mouth dry just thinking about the name of the theater. "At Carnegie Hall."
"Why did you do that?" asks Nathan noticing the man's nervousness at the name of the theater.
"Did what?" asks Lenny pretending not to know what the boy was talking about.
"Get all worked up about a theater. There is something behind that, isn't there?" asked Nathan, already knowing that if the man did not tell the story he would have to run after his grandmother, or worse, Aunt Susie.
"That's between me and your grandmother, young man." Lenny says dismissing the matter. "I would like to talk more with you, especially you who seem to be a fine young lady," the man continues pointing to Tara who smiles at the compliment, "But I promised my daughter I would pick up my granddaughter from school."
"Of course, Mr. Bruce, we'll be right there! Thanks for the soda and your time!" speaks Tara smiling at the man as Nathan looked at the older man not really believing the excuse, if he had a daughter his granddaughter would be Nathan's or his sister's age and wouldn't be in school, he also realized that maybe he was just annoying the comedian with his questions without pause but again, for someone who has been arrested for obscenity more times than a white man has been president of the United States he could tell two 25 year old reporters to get out of his house.
"I thank you also, Mr. Bruce, and I apologize if I caused any inconvenience with the questions." Nathan says as soon as they arrive at the apartment door, Tara already outside.
"It didn't bother me, it just brought back memories I didn't know I hadn't forgotten yet. Well, tell your grandmother I'd like to have coffee with her. And you are welcome at my place anytime you want." says Lenny with a sad smile on his face waving goodbye to the two journalists, closing the door to his apartment as soon as the two turned around.
"You're not going to let this Carnie story go, are you?" asks Tara as the two walk down the stairs of the building.
"You know me so well, Tara," Nathan says smiling at his friend who rolls her eyes.
"I want to see the painting, just let me know when she tells you where it is. I promise I won't take any pictures," the woman continued, opening the door and letting Nathan out first, the two of them walking side by side down the sidewalk. "Where are we going?" asks Tara and Nathan looks at her confused.
"I thought you were taking us somewhere," the boy says stopping beside her who is also confused.
"No?" says Tara unsure.
"Do you want to go to my grandmother's house to see if she still has that painting?"
"Didn't you hear what I told you like a second ago?" asks Tara as she sees her friend waving to a cab that stops, Nathan opens the door and Tara gets in before him who says half laughing.
"That was like forever ago," the young man answered laughing as he got into the cab and was slapped on the arm as he said the address of the building where his grandmother lived.