Chương 13
Nathan folded the letter.
He sat with it for a long time.
Teresa did not speak.
Finally he asked, “Did she hate me?”
Teresa kept sorting.
“Sometimes.”
“That’s honest.”
“You don’t need me to protect you from her feelings.”
“No.”
“She hated you when rent was late.”
Nathan looked up.
“She had money.”
“No. Walter froze the account he paid her through. She wouldn’t touch anything connected to Cross after that.”
“I would have—”
Teresa turned.
“Don’t.”
Nathan stopped.
“She knew you would’ve paid if she asked. That was part of why she didn’t ask.”
He looked at the photographs.
Teresa softened slightly.
“She didn’t hate you every day.”
Nathan looked at her.
“She’d see you on television and turn it off. Then two minutes later she’d turn it back on.”
He smiled faintly.
“She complained about your ties.”
“She hated most of my ties.”
“She was right.”
“Yes.”
Teresa sat on the floor across from him.
“For years, she kept expecting you to figure it out.”
Nathan stared at the letter.
“I should have.”
“Yes.”
“She could have contacted me another way.”
Teresa’s expression changed.
There it was.
The ugly thing.
Nathan heard himself and hated it before she answered.
“She was threatened.”
“I know.”
“She was raising a child.”
“I know.”
“You had private investigators.”
“I know.”
“She had a prepaid phone and a one-bedroom apartment in Baltimore.”
Nathan looked down.
“I know.”
Teresa’s anger did not disappear.
But something in it became less sharp.
“Good.”
They spent four hours in the storage unit.
Nathan carried boxes.
He complained about his back.
Teresa told him he was old.
He reminded her he was only five years older.
She told him he looked older.
At one point they found a bag of expired coupons Mara had kept for no apparent reason.
Teresa laughed so hard she had to sit down.
“She never used these.”
Nathan looked at a coupon for toothpaste.
“Why keep them?”
“She kept saying she would.”
“That makes no sense.”
“No.”
For a minute they were laughing about a dead woman’s useless coupons.
Then Teresa began crying.
Quietly.
Nathan sat beside her.
He did not touch her.
After a while she wiped her face with her sleeve.
“I’m still mad at her.”
Nathan looked over.
“For what?”
“For dying.”
The answer surprised him.
Teresa laughed bitterly.
“Stupid, right?”
“No.”
“She knew she was sick for two months before she told me.”
“Why?”
“She didn’t want me to worry.”
“That sounds like her.”
“I wanted those two months.”
Nathan nodded.
Teresa looked at him.
“You don’t get to make this about how much you lost.”
“I know.”
She gave him a warning look.
He corrected himself.
“Right.”
Another month passed before Nathan was formally cleared of participating in his father’s Rivergate fraud.
He was not cleared of everything.
Cross Meridian restated certain historical disclosures.
The company paid penalties related to reporting failures.
Nathan personally settled a civil governance claim rather than litigate it for years.
He was not charged criminally.
The distinction mattered legally.
It mattered less to Eli.
“Are you going to jail?” he asked again.
“No.”
“Because you’re rich?”
Nathan sighed.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“How sure?”
Nathan looked at Teresa.
She was enjoying this.
“My lawyers are very sure.”
“That sounds like because you’re rich.”
Teresa laughed.
Nathan pointed at her.
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m not trying to.”
They were eating pizza in Teresa’s apartment.
It was the first time she had allowed Nathan inside.
He had arrived with no security visible, although Hsu waited in a car down the block.
Nathan brought nothing.
No presents.
No flowers.
No expensive food.
Rachel had advised him not to show up empty-handed because humans generally brought something when invited to dinner.
He bought a twelve-dollar bakery pie.
Teresa inspected the box.
“You chose this?”
“Yes.”
“Rachel chose this.”
“No.”
“You called her.”
Nathan hesitated.
Teresa laughed.
“I knew it.”
“I asked whether pie was appropriate.”
“Jesus, Nathan.”
“I don’t do this.”
“That’s becoming obvious.”
Eli opened the box.
“What kind?”
“Apple.”
“I don’t like apple.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
Teresa laughed again.
“Welcome to parenting.”
“I’m not his parent.”
The words came out too quickly.
Eli looked at him.
Nathan corrected himself.
“I mean, not yet. Not in the way Teresa is. I didn’t mean—”
Eli shrugged.
“I know.”
Nathan felt worse.
They ate pepperoni pizza.
Eli told him about a science project involving plant growth.
Nathan offered an idea.
Eli rejected it.
Nathan tried another.
Rejected.
Finally he said, “Why ask me?”
“I didn’t.”
Teresa nearly choked on her drink.
After dinner, Eli went to his room to find something.
Nathan looked around the apartment.
Family photographs filled the shelves.
Mara appeared in many.
Nathan did not.
Of course he didn’t.
Teresa noticed where he was looking.
“I took some down before you came.”
Nathan turned.
“Why?”
“I didn’t know if it would be weird.”
“It’s her home.”
“It was.”
He looked at a photograph near the television.
Mara held a toddler Eli on her shoulders.
She was laughing.
Nathan moved closer.
“I’ve never seen this.”
“You’ve never seen most of his life.”
The sentence was cruel.
It was also true.
Teresa sighed.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“I can be mad without being awful.”
Nathan looked at her.
“Apparently.”
She rolled her eyes.
Eli returned carrying a shoebox.
He placed it on Nathan’s lap.
“What’s this?”
“Mom’s.”
Inside were more photographs.
Eli pointed.
“That’s me when I lost my first tooth.”
Another.
“That’s my kindergarten class.”
Another.
“That was Halloween. I was an astronaut.”
Nathan held the photograph.
Eli wore a cheap white costume and a plastic helmet.
“You liked space then too.”
“Yes.”
“Your mother make this?”
“The backpack.”
Nathan looked closer.
The oxygen pack was made from two painted soda bottles taped to cardboard.
“She was good at that.”
“She burned her finger with the glue gun.”
Nathan smiled.
“That also sounds like her.”
May you like
Eli kept showing him pictures.
Nathan did not try to memorize all of them.
