Chương 8
He ended the call.
When Evan came downstairs in dark pants and a gray sweater, the house looked as if a party had been abandoned during evacuation.
Half-full champagne glasses sat on trays. White petals had been crushed into the rug near the terrace. Somebody had left a clutch on a windowsill. The florist was dismantling the arch outside.
The boys had already gone with his mother.
Claire was in the kitchen, staring at a plate containing half a sandwich she had not touched.
Mason stood by the far counter.
Paige was between them.
Evan stopped in the doorway.
Mason looked up.
“Can we talk?”
“We already did.”
“I want to show you something.”
Evan nearly refused.
Paige said, “See it.”
Mason took out his phone.
He opened a text thread and placed the device on the island.
The messages were between Mason and Claire.
Twelve days earlier:
MASON: I gave the sample. Whatever it says, he has to know.
CLAIRE: I know.
MASON: Before the wedding.
CLAIRE: I said I know.
Five days earlier:
MASON: Results?
CLAIRE: Yes.
MASON: And?
A gap of twenty-two minutes.
CLAIRE: It’s you. All three.
MASON: Tell him tonight.
CLAIRE: I can’t do this by text.
MASON: I didn’t say text him.
Three days earlier:
MASON: Did you tell him?
CLAIRE: Tonight.
MASON: Claire.
CLAIRE: I’m doing it.
The next morning:
MASON: Did you?
No answer.
Wedding morning, 7:11 a.m.:
MASON: I am asking once. Does Evan know?
CLAIRE: Not yet.
MASON: Then there cannot be a wedding today.
Claire looked at Evan.
“I didn’t ask him to show you.”
Mason picked up the phone.
“I should have told you myself when she didn’t.”
“Yes,” Evan said.
“I came early because I was going to.”
“You arrived at ten.”
“I went looking for you.”
“I was with the boys.”
“I know.”
“You could have walked in.”
“I know.”
Evan stared at him.
Mason’s face tightened.
“I stood outside the playroom for maybe a minute. You were helping Caleb with his tie. Owen was lying on the floor because he said his shoes were attacking him.”
A small, involuntary smile moved through Claire’s face and vanished.
Mason continued.
“And Noah kept asking if he could carry the rings even though he’d already been told no. I watched you with them and I—”
He stopped.
Evan waited.
“You what?”
“I lost my nerve.”
Evan laughed bitterly.
“Runs in the family.”
Mason accepted that.
Claire looked down.
Paige folded her arms.
“What does Mason want regarding the boys?”
Mason’s head came up.
“I don’t know.”
“Good,” Paige said. “At least one honest answer today.”
Evan looked at him.
“You thought about it.”
“Of course I did.”
“What did you think?”
Mason leaned back against the counter.
“I thought if they were mine, I had spent six years pretending not to notice. I thought if they weren’t mine, I had spent six years feeling guilty for nothing. I thought maybe knowing would make one of those things easier.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
“Do you want them to call you Dad?”
Mason’s face twisted.
“No.”
The speed of the answer surprised Evan.
“No?”
“They already have one.”
Claire looked at Evan.
He hated that the sentence affected him.
Mason continued.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be now. I don’t know what they should know or when. I don’t know if I have a right to ask for anything.”
“You have a talent for discovering uncertainty after facts become unavoidable.”
“I deserve that.”
“I’m not interested in what you deserve.”
“I know.”
Evan’s mouth tightened.
“Stop saying that.”
Mason nodded.
The kitchen settled into silence.
Somewhere near the front door, someone dropped a metal tray and cursed.
Claire stared at her sandwich.
Paige opened her tote.
“I want copies of the boys’ birth certificates tonight. Tomorrow I’m going to speak with someone who handles family-law issues every day. I am not going to pretend my general knowledge is enough for this.”
Evan glanced at her.
“You’re bringing in another lawyer?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you were my lawyer.”
“I am. That’s why I know when not to improvise.”
Mason rubbed his forehead.
“What should I do?”
Paige looked at him.
“Get your own attorney.”
“Do I need one?”
“If you are asking that question, yes.”
Evan turned to Claire.
“What are you going to tell your parents?”
“The truth.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
He nodded.
She looked at him carefully.
“Where am I sleeping?”
The question was practical enough to hurt.
Evan looked toward the hall.
“I don’t know.”
“I can go to my mother’s.”
“The boys are coming back.”
“I know.”
“You can see them.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Yes, you were.”
She looked away.
Evan rubbed his wrist beneath the steel watch.
“You should stay in the guest room tonight.”
Claire blinked.
“You want me here?”
“I want them to wake up tomorrow and know where both of us are.”
Mason looked at the floor.
Claire nodded.
“All right.”
Evan turned to Mason.
“You leave.”
Mason’s face did not change.
“Okay.”
“And for tonight, you do not contact Claire.”
“Okay.”
“You do not contact the boys.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
Mason picked up his jacket from the back of a chair.
At the kitchen doorway he stopped.
“Evan.”
Evan did not answer.
Mason waited several seconds.
Then he left.
The boys returned at seven-fifteen carrying a plastic container of wedding cake their grandmother had somehow acquired before the caterer departed.
Owen had frosting on his cheek.
Caleb was barefoot.
Noah came through the front door first and immediately looked for Evan.
Evan was standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Noah relaxed when he saw him.
That tiny release of tension made something in Evan ache.
“Did Grandma tell you cake is dinner?” Evan asked.
“No.”
“Good.”
“She said it can be dinner if we don’t tell you.”
From outside, his mother shouted, “That child is a liar.”
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Owen ran in laughing.
For twenty minutes, life became offensively ordinary.
