Chương 4
“You came.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I gave it fifty-fifty.”
She stepped aside.
Christopher’s voice carried from the family room.
Michelle answered him, and something in my body reacted before my mind did.
I had known that voice for twenty years.
Michelle had talked me through my father’s funeral, my first failed fertility cycle, and the night Christopher disappeared after an argument and turned off his phone.
Now she was laughing at something my former husband had said.
Evelyn touched my elbow.
“Before you go in.”
She handed me a photograph.
Andrew Lawson looked about nineteen in it, standing beside an old pickup with one hand raised against the sun.
I had seen other pictures of him, but never this one.
His face was narrower than Christopher’s.
His eyes were lighter.
And beneath his left ear was a small, dark crescent-shaped birthmark.
“What am I looking for?”
Evelyn took the photograph back.
“You’ll know.”
I hated the certainty in her voice.
“I am not inspecting a newborn for family secrets.”
“Neither am I.”
“You invited me here specifically to do that.”
Before she could answer, Christopher appeared at the end of the hall.
His expression passed through surprise and disbelief before settling into anger.
“What the hell is she doing here?”
Michelle came up behind him holding the baby girl.
She stopped so abruptly the blanket slipped from one shoulder.
For one strange second, none of us spoke.
Then Michelle said my name.
Not defensively.
Not angrily.
Almost with relief.
That disturbed me more than anything else.
“I invited her,” Evelyn said.
Christopher turned on his mother.
“Why?”
“Because this is still my house.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is the only one you’re getting in the hallway.”
The baby girl made a small complaining sound.
Michelle looked down immediately and adjusted the blanket around her.
I had prepared myself to hate her with the baby.
Instead I saw exhaustion beneath her makeup and a stain on the shoulder of her blouse.
Ordinary details made the situation worse.
“Victoria,” she said quietly, “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I gathered that.”
Christopher stepped between us.
“You need to leave.”
Evelyn said, “She stays.”
“Mom.”
“Christopher.”
Their voices were nearly identical when they were angry.
From the family room came a thin cry.
Christopher looked over his shoulder.
“The baby.”
“I’ll get him,” Evelyn said.
“No.”
The word came from Michelle.
Everyone looked at her.
She tightened her hold on the girl.
“I mean, I can.”
“You’re holding Emma,” Christopher said.
“I can put her down.”
“I’ve got him.”
He walked away before anyone could object.
Michelle watched him go.
Her face had gone pale.
I noticed it.
Evelyn noticed it too.
“Michelle,” Evelyn said, “when did you first meet Richard?”
Michelle looked at her.
Christopher returned carrying the boy against his chest.
“What kind of question is that?”
Michelle did not answer.
Evelyn moved toward him.
The baby’s cap had slipped sideways.
Christopher adjusted it impatiently, exposing the left side of the boy’s head.
There, beneath his tiny ear, was a dark crescent.
Evelyn stopped.
The color drained from her face so quickly I reached for her without thinking.
Christopher frowned.
“Mom?”
She did not look at him.
She stared at the child.
Then her eyes moved slowly to Michelle.
“He never told you about that resemblance?”
Michelle’s lips parted.
Christopher looked from his mother to the baby.
“What resemblance?”
Evelyn gripped my wrist hard enough to hurt.
“Andrew,” she whispered.
Michelle closed her eyes.
And that was when I knew she had been waiting for someone to say his name.
Christopher was the first to move.
He shifted the boy against his chest and stared at Michelle as though the answer might be written somewhere on her face.
“What does she mean?”
Michelle opened her eyes.
“Chris.”
“No.”
His voice was low now, which was worse than shouting.
“What does my mother mean?”
Emma began fussing in Michelle’s arms.
Michelle bounced her gently, but her gaze remained fixed on the floor.
Evelyn released my wrist.
“Give me the baby.”
Christopher stepped back.
“Why?”
“Because you’re squeezing him.”
He looked down and loosened his arms immediately.
The boy had stopped crying and was making small rooting movements against Christopher’s shirt.
For an instant Christopher looked frightened by his own hands.
Then he gave the baby to Evelyn.
She carried him to the couch and sat with the careful stiffness of someone whose knees had suddenly become unreliable.
Michelle moved toward her.
“Don’t.”
Evelyn did not raise her voice.
Michelle stopped.
Christopher looked at me.
“You knew about this.”
“I knew about a photograph approximately ten minutes ago.”
“You came here for this.”
“I came because your mother found records she didn’t understand.”
“What records?”
Evelyn looked at Michelle.
“Tell him.”
Michelle shook her head.
“Not while I’m holding her.”
It was such an ordinary maternal objection that nobody challenged it.
She crossed to a portable bassinet near the window and lowered Emma into it.
The baby objected immediately.
Michelle rested one hand on her stomach and rocked the bassinet until the crying softened.
Christopher stood behind her.
“Tell me.”
“I need you not to start yelling.”
“Then don’t give me a reason.”
Michelle laughed once without humor.
“You’ve already decided there is one.”
“Michelle.”
She turned around.
“I used a clinic.”
Christopher blinked.
“We used a clinic.”
“No.”
Something in her face changed.
“You didn’t.”
The room became very quiet.
Christopher’s mouth opened, then closed.
I found myself staring at the bassinet because watching him absorb the sentence felt indecent despite everything he had done to me.
“What are you talking about?”
Michelle folded her arms.
“You remember when we first started trying?”
Christopher stared at her.
“You said we should wait because you were still married.”
“I was trying to keep you from asking questions.”
“What questions?”
“About why nothing was happening.”
His face tightened.
May you like
“We weren’t trying long enough for that to mean anything.”
“I knew it would mean something.”
