Chương 3
“Well, that sounds less heroic.”
Despite herself, Evelyn smiled.
Patricia placed the plate on the dresser.
Her face had lost the bright social expression she wore downstairs.
“I didn’t know,” she said.
Evelyn looked at her.
“About the seating.”
Patricia sat in the small chair by the window.
Not Evelyn’s dining chair.
A different chair.
Still, the sight of someone sitting while Evelyn stood almost made her laugh.
“Tara told me you preferred moving around,” Patricia said.
“Apparently I’m a shark.”
Patricia frowned.
“What?”
“If I stop moving, I die.”
A startled laugh escaped her, followed immediately by guilt.
“I shouldn’t laugh.”
“It was mildly funny.”
Patricia picked at a loose thread on her sleeve.
“She shouldn’t have done that.”
“No.”
“And Daniel should have said something.”
Evelyn said nothing.
Patricia looked toward the door.
“My daughter can be difficult.”
“That’s a generous word.”
“She gets it from her father.”
From downstairs came Jim’s loud voice arguing about football statistics.
Patricia gave Evelyn a tired look.
“I’ve spent thirty-eight years blaming things on him when I run out of better explanations.”
Evelyn sat on the bed.
For a moment neither woman spoke.
Outside the bedroom window, a neighbor pushed a leaf blower along the edge of his driveway despite it being Thanksgiving afternoon.
The machine whined uselessly at a cluster of wet leaves.
Patricia watched him.
“He does that every Thursday?”
“Every Thursday.”
“Even Thanksgiving?”
“He’s committed.”
They watched the man fight the leaves for another few seconds.
Then Patricia said, “Tara thinks this house will be hers someday.”
Evelyn turned her head.
Patricia did not look at her.
“She’s said it more than once.”
The room seemed to narrow.
“What exactly has she said?”
Patricia folded the loose thread around one finger.
“That you’ll probably downsize.”
Evelyn waited.
“And?”
Patricia swallowed.
“And that Daniel is the son, so naturally the house would stay with him.”
Naturally.
Evelyn looked at the envelope in the drawer.
For the first time that day, the missing chair stopped being the largest thing in the room.
Patricia’s confession sat between them with more weight than accusation.
Evelyn leaned back slightly and studied the other woman’s face.
Patricia looked embarrassed, but not surprised by her own daughter.
That distinction mattered.
“How long has she been saying that?”
Patricia rubbed the thread between her fingers until it snapped.
“I don’t know.”
“That usually means a while.”
“A while.”
Evelyn nodded.
The leaf blower outside stopped abruptly.
The silence afterward seemed too clean.
“Did Daniel hear her say it?”
Patricia’s eyes moved toward the floor.
Once again, Evelyn got her answer before the words came.
“Sometimes.”
“And what did he say?”
“He usually changed the subject.”
Evelyn let out a small breath.
That was Daniel’s favorite form of courage.
Change the subject.
Delay the problem.
Let someone else absorb the cost.
When he was twelve, he had broken a neighbor’s basement window with a baseball and spent three days asking Evelyn unrelated questions about dinner until the neighbor came over holding the ball.
Walt had made him apologize in person.
Daniel had cried before walking across the street.
Afterward, Walt told him fear did not become smaller just because you made somebody else carry it.
Evelyn had not thought of that afternoon in years.
The memory arrived now because Patricia was staring at the carpet the same way Daniel had stared at the sidewalk.
“I shouldn’t have told you today,” Patricia said.
“Why not?”
“Because this is already ugly.”
“It was ugly before you came upstairs.”
Patricia winced.
“I know.”
Evelyn looked toward the dresser, where the stolen dinner was cooling.
A little gravy had run into the green beans.
She had always hated that.
Walt used to say food touching food was the entire point of Thanksgiving.
“You should eat,” Patricia said.
“Before it gets cold.”
Evelyn gave her a look.
Patricia lifted both palms.
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re right.”
That was another thing about humiliation.
It made practical kindness feel suspicious.
Evelyn picked up the plate and took a bite of mashed potatoes.
They were lukewarm.
She had made them with too much butter because Daniel liked them that way.
He had since high school.
That irritated her now.
Not enough to stop eating them.
Patricia remained by the window.
“Are you going back downstairs?”
“In a little while.”
“Do you want me to tell them anything?”
“No.”
Patricia hesitated.
“Tara’s going to notice I’m gone.”
“She’ll survive.”
“That’s not always been my experience.”
This time Evelyn laughed.
It came out unexpectedly and made both women look relieved.
Then Patricia stood.
At the door, she paused.
“I am sorry about the chair.”
Evelyn looked at the cooling turkey on her plate.
“I think the chair may have done me a favor.”
Patricia did not ask what she meant.
She only nodded and went downstairs.
Evelyn finished half the plate before losing interest.
When she checked her phone again, there were two missed calls from Daniel.
He was directly beneath her.
The absurdity of it almost made her smile.
He preferred a phone to a staircase.
A text followed.
Can you please come down so this doesn’t turn into a thing?
Evelyn read it twice.
Then she typed, It already is a thing.
He responded immediately.
That’s exactly what I mean.
She did not answer.
Another message appeared.
Tara’s upset.
Evelyn stared at those two words longer than she wanted to.
Of course Tara was upset.
The person causing the discomfort was upset that discomfort had entered the room.
It was almost elegant.
Evelyn set the phone face down.
Five minutes later, there was another knock.
This one did not wait for permission either.
Daniel stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
His cheeks were flushed.
Not with anger, Evelyn thought.
With embarrassment.
That seemed worse.
“Why are you up here?”
“I’m eating.”
“You know what I mean.”
May you like
“I usually do, but today seems full of surprises.”
Daniel closed his eyes for a second.
