Chương 11
“How’s freedom?” he asked.
“Expensive.”
He laughed.
“No, seriously.”
“I bought store-brand detergent yesterday.”
“Tragic.”
“I stood in the aisle comparing price per ounce like my grandparents survived the Depression.”
“You realize normal people do that.”
“I’m learning.”
Thomas drank his iced tea.
“What about Eleanor?”
Natalie looked at him.
“What about her?”
“Have you seen her?”
“No.”
“Talked?”
“Letters.”
“How many?”
“Three.”
“Better?”
Natalie shrugged.
“Different.”
The second letter had contained no explanation.
The third included a complaint about a television actress Eleanor disliked, followed by an awkward paragraph about counseling.
That had felt more promising than the apology.
Human beings rarely changed in elegant lines.
Eleanor still corrected Natalie’s grammar in one letter.
Natalie nearly sent it back unopened.
Instead she circled the correction in red and wrote:
This is why people hide things from you.
Eleanor’s next letter began:
Point taken, although your comma remains incorrect.
Natalie had laughed for almost a full minute.
The fact that she laughed made her angry.
The fact that she was angry made her laugh again.
Progress, apparently, was ridiculous.
Sophie did not want contact.
Then one afternoon in January she asked, “Do you think Grandma still has the fish pond?”
Natalie looked up from folding laundry.
“Yes.”
“Does Henry still feed them?”
“Probably.”
Henry had been Eleanor’s gardener for twenty years.
Sophie pulled a sock onto her hand.
“Could I see the fish without seeing Grandma?”
“I can ask.”
“No.”
Natalie waited.
“Maybe Grandma could be far away.”
“Okay.”
“Like inside.”
“Okay.”
“Not at the window.”
“Sophie.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to negotiate this all by yourself.”
The sock puppet opened its mouth.
“I know.”
Natalie sat beside her.
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s allowed.”
Sophie stared at the sock.
“Do you miss her?”
Natalie looked down at the laundry.
“Yes.”
“Are you still mad?”
“Yes.”
Sophie nodded.
“Me too.”
It was strangely comforting.
The first supervised visit happened in February at Dr. Reynolds’s office.
Eleanor arrived ten minutes early.
Natalie arrived exactly on time because she refused to give her mother the satisfaction of punctuality as moral superiority.
Sophie carried the stuffed stingray she had owned since she was five.
Eleanor stood when they entered.
She wore a gray dress, small pearl earrings, and no necklace.
Natalie noticed immediately.
So did Sophie.
Nobody mentioned it.
Eleanor looked at Sophie.
“Hello, darling.”
Sophie moved closer to Natalie.
Eleanor stopped herself from stepping forward.
“Hello, Grandma.”
Dr. Reynolds invited everyone to sit.
For the first five minutes, the conversation was unbearable.
School.
Weather.
A book Sophie was reading.
Eleanor asked too many questions.
Sophie answered in single words.
Natalie wanted to interfere.
Dr. Reynolds caught her eye once.
Natalie stayed quiet.
Then Sophie said, “Why did you tape me?”
Eleanor’s face changed.
Natalie’s hands tightened.
Dr. Reynolds said nothing.
Eleanor looked at Sophie.
“I didn’t put the tape on you myself.”
Natalie nearly stood.
Eleanor raised one hand.
“That was the first answer that came into my head,” she said. “It was a dishonest answer.”
Sophie watched her.
Eleanor swallowed.
“I told someone to keep you in the chair. When he used tape, I let him. You were crying, and I let him.”
“Why?”
“Because I was angry.”
“At me?”
“At several people.”
“That’s weird.”
“Yes.”
Sophie hugged the stingray.
“Mom says grown-ups are supposed to control themselves.”
Eleanor’s mouth tightened slightly.
“Your mother is correct.”
Natalie nearly choked.
Sophie looked at her.
Natalie covered it with a cough.
Eleanor noticed.
For one second something almost familiar moved between them.
Then Sophie asked, “Did you hate Daddy?”
The room changed again.
Eleanor looked at Natalie.
Natalie did not rescue her.
“I disliked many things about your father.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Natalie stared at the floor.
Evan would have been unbearable with pride.
Eleanor said, “Sometimes I hated him.”
Sophie looked surprised.
“Why?”
“Because he made your mother less interested in pleasing me.”
Natalie looked up.
Eleanor continued before she could speak.
“And because he knew that bothered me.”
“That sounds like Daddy.”
Despite herself, Natalie smiled.
Sophie did too.
Eleanor’s eyes filled.
She did not cry dramatically.
She blinked and looked at her hands.
“I was very cruel about him after he died,” she said. “That was wrong.”
Sophie leaned back.
“Mom says dead people can still be annoying.”
Dr. Reynolds covered a smile.
Eleanor looked at Natalie.
“Does she?”
Natalie shrugged.
“He left wet towels on the bed.”
“That was appalling.”
Sophie giggled.
For perhaps thirty seconds they were simply three people who had known the same man.
Then the moment passed.
The visit lasted forty-five minutes.
At the end Eleanor did not ask for a hug.
That mattered.
Sophie noticed.
In the car she said, “Grandma looked old.”
“She is sixty-nine.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Natalie glanced at her in the mirror.
“What did you mean?”
“I don’t know.”
Natalie nodded.
That was allowed too.
The visits continued monthly.
Sometimes they went well.
Sometimes Eleanor ruined them.
In April she corrected Sophie’s table manners during a supervised lunch.
Sophie froze.
Natalie put down her fork.
Eleanor immediately said, “I’m sorry.”
Sophie stared.
“You say that a lot now.”
“I require practice.”
“That means you’re bad at it.”
“Yes.”
Natalie looked away so neither of them saw her smile.
In May Eleanor tried to give Sophie an expensive bracelet.
Natalie refused.
Eleanor became offended.
They argued in the parking lot afterward.
“You cannot treat every gift as manipulation.”
“No. But you can’t spend your way around discomfort.”
“It is a bracelet.”
“It is six thousand dollars.”
“I have six thousand dollars.”
“That is not the point.”
“I know what the point is. You enjoy making it.”
Natalie stared at her.
“There she is.”
Eleanor went pale with anger.
For one second Natalie saw the old pattern preparing itself.
Then Eleanor inhaled.
She looked toward Sophie, who was inside with Dr. Reynolds.
“I am going home.”
“Good.”
“I am angry with you.”
May you like
“Allowed.”
“I also understand what you are saying.”
