Chương 8
“You’re putting ideas in his head.”
Nadine laughed without humor.
“That didn’t take long.”
Gideon glared at her.
“Stay out of my marriage.”
“Your marriage seems crowded already.”
“Nadine,” I said.
She lifted both hands and stepped back.
I crouched beside the suitcases.
The envelope addressed to Diane was thick.
“Whose is this?”
“Mine.”
“Then take it.”
I handed it to him without opening it.
He did not accept it.
“What?”
“It’s yours.”
He kept his arms at his sides.
I looked at Hanley.
“Would you mind noting that this was inside Roger’s suitcase?”
“I already did.”
I set the envelope on the concrete floor.
“Open it yourself.”
Gideon stared at it.
“That’s private.”
“Then move it.”
Nothing happened.
My skin prickled.
“Gideon.”
He stepped forward.
Hanley blocked him with one arm.
“I’ll get it.”
She picked up the envelope by one corner and handed it to him.
He held it for less than a second before it slipped.
The flap had not been sealed properly.
Several papers slid onto the garage floor.
One was a printed copy of my work schedule.
Another had my name across the top.
I did not touch anything.
Hanley crouched.
“What is this?”
Gideon said, “Personal documents.”
“I’m not reading them for content.”
She gathered the pages enough to return them.
Then one photograph landed faceup.
It showed me asleep on our couch.
Roger sat beside me watching television.
My stomach dropped.
I recognized the picture immediately.
“That’s the photo.”
Gideon’s eyes narrowed.
“What photo?”
“The one you said was cute.”
Nadine stepped closer.
“What is going on?”
I pointed.
“He took that months ago.”
Another photograph had fallen beneath it.
Me holding a glass of wine at Celina’s birthday dinner.
Another showed my prescription bottle on the kitchen counter.
Another showed a sink full of dishes.
I stared at them.
The humiliation was strangely intimate.
Not because any photograph contained something shameful.
Because I could see the intention behind their selection.
A sleeping mother.
Alcohol.
Medication.
A messy house.
Ordinary moments clipped out of ordinary life and arranged into a version of me.
“Why are those in an envelope going to your mother?”
I asked.
Gideon rubbed both hands over his face.
“You are making this look insane.”
“I am not touching anything.”
“You’re standing there interpreting things.”
“So interpret them for me.”
He looked at Hanley.
“I wanted my mother to understand what had been going on.”
“What had been going on?”
“You’ve been exhausted.”
“I work nights.”
“You sleep during the day.”
“That is generally how night shifts work.”
“You drink.”
“I had one glass of wine at my sister’s birthday.”
“You take medication.”
“For nausea.”
“You leave dishes.”
Nadine made a disgusted sound.
Hanley remained neutral, but I saw her glance at the sink photograph again.
I said, “You assembled a file on me.”
“It wasn’t a file.”
“It was photographs and documents in an envelope.”
“That doesn’t make it a file.”
“Fine.”
I stood.
“You assembled a decorative scrapbook proving I sometimes sleep, drink wine, take prescribed medication, and fail to wash a plate.”
He clenched his teeth.
“This sarcasm is why talking to you is impossible.”
“No, talking to me is impossible because you lie.”
“You think everything is a lie now.”
“Did you have a daughter?”
His face hardened.
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“Did you open accounts in Claire’s name?”
“She ran up debt too.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Because your question is designed to make me guilty.”
I stared at him.
Then something occurred to me.
“What was supposed to happen today?”
He blinked.
“What?”
“Forget the affair for one minute.”
“That’s convenient.”
“What was the plan?”
“There wasn’t a plan.”
“You packed three suitcases.”
“I told you.”
“No.”
I pointed at them.
“You packed mine, Roger’s, and presumably your own.”
His eyes shifted.
I followed them.
On a shelf behind a stack of paint cans sat a black duffel bag.
Nadine saw it too.
I said, “There.”
Gideon’s shoulders dropped slightly.
The fight went out of him for a moment.
Not remorse.
Calculation.
“We were going to my mother’s.”
“After my shift?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
“When you got home.”
“At six fourteen?”
“Yes.”
“Except when I got home, you were in the guest room with Celina.”
He said nothing.
“Was Celina going too?”
“No.”
“Did she know we were leaving?”
“No.”
“Did your mother know I was coming?”
Another pause.
“No.”
I felt almost lightheaded.
“So Diane thought Roger was coming for weeks because I was unstable.”
“I never said unstable.”
“And I supposedly thought we were all going for space.”
“I hadn’t explained it to her yet.”
“While Roger thought I wasn’t coming at all.”
“He misunderstood.”
“And Celina thought you were preparing to leave me.”
His face changed.
There it was.
A small, involuntary reaction.
I had finally found a corner where his stories collided.
“What did you tell Celina?”
“Nothing.”
“She says you told her you were working out finances before leaving.”
“She’s lying to save herself.”
“Maybe.”
I believed Celina was capable of lying.
That was the problem.
Everyone involved had become unreliable.
Even me, perhaps, if anger was allowed to choose which facts mattered.
I looked at Hanley.
“I want to finish collecting essential things and leave.”
“That’s probably best.”
Gideon said, “And Roger?”
I looked at him.
“What about him?”
“When are you bringing him back?”
“I’m not discussing that here.”
“He’s my son.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t get to decide unilaterally where he lives.”
“I know.”
That answer surprised him.
I was grateful Nadine had stopped talking.
“I’m contacting an attorney today.”
His expression tightened.
“You’re really doing this.”
“I don’t know what this is yet.”
“Divorce.”
“I said I don’t know.”
“That means yes.”
“No, Gideon, it means for the first time today I’m refusing to pretend I know things before I know them.”
May you like
He laughed bitterly.
“You already called my mother, dragged the police here, accused me of fraud.”
