Chương 5
“The question.”
I typed slowly.
I need everyone to answer honestly.
If you ever invited me, Lily, or Noah to something and Mom told you we couldn’t come without you hearing it directly from me, tell me now.
I read it once.
Then I added another sentence.
And if Mom ever told you that I wanted Noah excluded from something, I need to know that too.
Dad inhaled.
Lily whispered, “Send it.”
I pressed the button.
For eleven seconds, nothing happened.
Then Eric’s typing bubble appeared.
It disappeared.
Caroline’s appeared.
Then Susan’s.
Then Rachel’s.
Then my cousin Matt’s.
Dad’s phone began vibrating on the table.
Mine did too.
The first actual message came from Rachel.
Oh my God.
The second came from Eric.
Marissa, call me before you read anything else.
Then Caroline wrote a sentence that made Dad reach across the table and take my wrist.
Mom told us you were the one who wanted Noah left out.
I read Caroline’s message three times before the words settled into something my mind could hold.
Dad’s hand was still around my wrist.
I pulled free, not because I was angry at him, but because suddenly I could not stand being touched.
Lily was already typing.
“What are you doing?”
“Asking her what she means.”
“Don’t.”
She looked at me.
“Why?”
“Because I want her to answer me.”
I opened a private message to Caroline.
Tell me exactly what Mom said.
The reply came almost immediately.
Can I call?
I stared at the screen.
Then I pressed the phone icon.
Caroline answered before the first full ring.
“Marissa.”
Her voice sounded thin.
“Tell me.”
She exhaled.
“Okay.”
Dad looked away.
Lily stayed beside me.
“Last fall,” Caroline said, “Mom told me you didn’t want Noah invited to things unless you specifically said it was okay.”
My chair scraped slightly as I shifted.
“What things?”
“Birthday parties.”
“For the kids?”
“Yes.”
“Christmas stuff?”
“Yes.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“She said you were exhausted.”
Caroline’s words began coming faster.
“She said Noah had been struggling more, and that every invitation became this whole emotional thing for you because you felt guilty saying no.”
My stomach turned.
“So she said she was helping me?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“By telling people not to put you in that position.”
Lily mouthed something I couldn’t hear.
I held up one finger.
“Did you believe her?”
Caroline went quiet.
That silence hurt more than yes would have.
“Caroline.”
“I did.”
I looked toward the living room.
Noah was still watching television.
A cartoon character screamed about pancakes.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not true.”
“I guess because it sounded plausible.”
“To you.”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“What else?”
She hesitated.
“Mom said you were becoming sensitive about anyone commenting on Noah.”
I laughed once.
There was nothing funny in it.
“So if I objected to someone insulting my child, that proved I was sensitive.”
“I didn’t think of it like that.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
“Marissa.”
I closed my eyes.
“What else?”
“She told me you’d asked her to be the bad guy.”
My eyes opened.
“What?”
Dad looked sharply at me.
Lily’s face went blank.
Caroline continued quickly.
“She said you didn’t want Noah to know you were limiting invitations, so you asked her to handle it quietly.”
For several seconds I could hear only Caroline breathing.
“That never happened.”
“I know that now.”
“No.”
My voice rose.
“You know it because I’m telling you.”
“I know.”
“No, Caroline, you spent almost a year thinking I was secretly ashamed to bring my own son around the family.”
She started crying.
I hated that part of me responded immediately.
I hated that I wanted to soothe her.
“I’m sorry.”
Her voice cracked.
“I should have called you.”
“Yes.”
“I thought I was respecting what you wanted.”
“You were respecting what Mom said I wanted.”
“I know.”
“That’s different.”
“I know.”
Lily moved away from the table.
She stood at the sink with her back to us.
Dad stared into his coffee.
I asked, “Did you ever tell anyone else?”
Caroline sniffed.
“Eric.”
Dad looked up.
“When?”
“After Mason’s birthday.”
Mason was Eric’s twelve-year-old son.
We had not attended his birthday dinner in February.
Mom had told me Eric was keeping it small because Mason wanted only a couple of school friends there.
I had sent him a gift card.
Noah had drawn a picture of a dragon holding balloons.
“What happened at Mason’s birthday?”
Caroline sounded sick now.
“Eric asked why you never came anymore.”
My fingers went numb around the phone.
“What did you say?”
“I told him what Mom told me.”
Dad whispered, “Jesus.”
I barely heard him.
“What did Eric say?”
“He got mad.”
“At me.”
“Yes.”
“Did he call me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he said if that was how you wanted to handle things, fine.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Eric, who had stood beside our car the day before looking ashamed, had spent months believing I was the one withdrawing Noah from the family.
And I had spent those same months believing my siblings were quietly withdrawing from us.
Mom had not simply intercepted invitations.
She had created two separate stories and handed one to each side.
“Anything else?”
Caroline’s crying had gone quiet.
“There’s Easter.”
My eyes moved to Susan’s unread message.
“What about Easter?”
“Ask Susan.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know exactly what happened.”
“Caroline.”
“I really don’t.”
She inhaled shakily.
“I just know Mom told Susan you wanted the egg hunt moved because Noah couldn’t handle the kids being loud.”
I frowned.
“I never asked that.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
“Susan got angry.”
“Why?”
“Because she’d already planned everything.”
I looked at Dad.
He was rubbing his forehead now.
Caroline said, “And then Mom told you Susan canceled because of the weather, right?”
My throat tightened.
“Yes.”
“It wasn’t canceled.”
Lily turned around.
“What?”
Caroline heard her.
“Lily?”
“She’s here.”
“Oh.”
A pause.
May you like
“I’m sorry you’re hearing all this.”
Lily’s mouth tightened.
