Chương 7
Claire swallowed.
“What if I report her and she says I’m unstable because I reported her?”
Dana’s mouth tightened.
“She can say anything. That doesn’t make it true.”
That was easy to say.
Claire thought of the nine dated entries.
The careful wording.
The red seal.
The signature close enough to hers.
“What if people believe her?”
Dana did not say they wouldn’t.
Claire liked her more for that.
“Some people might.”
The answer sat between them.
Ethan looked miserable.
Claire stood again.
“I want to see her.”
He stared at her.
“No.”
Claire turned.
His face changed.
“Sorry. I mean—I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“That’s different.”
Dana asked, “Why do you want to see her?”
Claire thought about it.
“I want to ask one question.”
“What question?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Dana studied her.
“Then wait until you do.”
Margaret spent the next two hours downstairs in the hotel’s private lounge.
Claire knew because Margaret texted Ethan twice and Claire once.
The first message to Claire read:
I understand you are frightened. I will forgive what was said upstairs.
Claire stared at the screen for nearly a full minute.
Then she laughed so hard Rosa came in to check on her.
The second message arrived twenty minutes later.
Please do not let Ethan turn this into something it is not.
Claire handed the phone to Dana.
Dana photographed the messages.
“Do I respond?”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want to say?”
Claire typed three different answers.
The first contained profanity.
The second contained more profanity.
The third read:
Do not contact me again today.
Dana said, “That’s clear.”
Claire sent it.
Margaret did not reply.
At five, Claire’s sister Nora called from Cleveland.
Ethan had told her there was a problem but, under explicit instruction, had not explained it.
Nora answered on the first ring.
“What happened?”
Claire immediately began crying again.
“Oh, come on,” she said angrily at her own face.
Nora waited.
Claire wiped her nose.
“Margaret forged my signature on papers trying to get temporary custody of June.”
Silence.
Then Nora said, “I’m sorry, she what?”
Claire repeated it.
Nora used language that would have made their mother end the call.
For the first time all day, Claire felt completely understood.
“Do you want me there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m booking a flight.”
“Nora, you have patients tomorrow.”
“I have coworkers.”
“It’s storming here.”
“I have weather apps.”
“I don’t know where you’ll stay.”
“I have a credit card.”
Claire smiled through tears.
“You’re very aggressive.”
“I’ve been waiting thirty-two years for it to become useful.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Come.”
“I’m coming.”
After they hung up, Claire looked at Ethan.
“Nora’s coming.”
“I figured.”
“You heard?”
“The entire floor heard.”
“Good.”
Around six, the rain weakened.
The sea remained rough.
Claire ate half a turkey sandwich while June slept against Ethan’s chest.
Watching him hold the baby was complicated now.
His support was always correct. One hand behind the neck, the other beneath her bottom. He had learned quickly. He checked her breathing too often.
Claire had teased him about it yesterday.
Now she wondered how many of the things she had considered endearing had been shadowed by fear he never told her about.
He caught her watching.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The face where you’ve already convicted me of something.”
“I have a conviction face?”
“Apparently.”
“What did I convict you of?”
“I don’t know. That’s the concerning part.”
Claire took another bite.
“I’m trying to figure out whether I trust you.”
He stopped smiling.
June’s mouth opened in her sleep.
Ethan looked down.
“That seems reasonable.”
Claire groaned.
“Sorry.”
“No, it is.”
He looked at her again.
“I don’t expect you to decide today.”
“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said.”
“I had one left.”
The sandwich tasted like nothing.
Claire put it down.
“I need you to understand something.”
He waited.
“If your mother hadn’t forged the signature, I would still be angry with you.”
“I know.”
She pointed at him.
He caught himself.
“Right.”
“You told her private things after promising me you wouldn’t.”
“Yes.”
“You treated me like a problem you had to monitor.”
“I don’t think I did.”
“I do.”
He looked uncomfortable.
Good, Claire thought.
Then immediately felt petty.
Also good.
“I was scared,” he said.
“So was I.”
“I know.”
She stared at him.
He sighed.
“I’m going to keep accidentally saying that.”
“Probably.”
“I don’t want to defend what I did.”
“Then don’t.”
“But I do want to explain that I wasn’t afraid you would hurt June.”
Claire folded the sandwich wrapper.
Once.
Twice.
Then unfolded it again.
“What were you afraid of?”
“That you’d disappear inside yourself and I’d notice too late.”
She looked at him.
“My dad did that.”
Ethan’s father had died six years earlier.
Officially, cardiac arrest.
Unofficially, a long decline involving bourbon, sleeping pills, missed meetings, and a family that continued setting places at formal dinners as if polished silverware could correct anything.
Claire knew pieces.
Not all.
“Your father wasn’t postpartum.”
“No.”
“I’m not your father.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to turn me into him because you’re scared.”
“I know.”
She let it go.
Not forgive.
Just let the sentence remain unfinished.
At seven twelve, Margaret appeared outside the suite door.
Security called first.
Claire said she could come in.
Dana objected.
Ethan objected more carefully.
Claire listened to both.
Then said, “I want ten minutes.”
Margaret entered without her coat.
She looked smaller in the burgundy dress alone.
That surprised Claire.
For years, Margaret’s authority had seemed anatomical, as though she had been born with more space around her than other people.
Now she stood inside the doorway holding her handbag with both hands.
Her eyes went first to June.
Ethan was holding her.
Margaret looked away.
Dana stayed near the console.
Rosa remained outside the open door.
Claire had asked for both.
Margaret noticed.
“Is this necessary?”
May you like
Claire said, “Yes.”
Margaret nodded once.
