Chương 13
Of course it was chocolate.
I closed my eyes.
“Did Mark agree to this?”
“He didn’t stop her.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
Claire hesitated.
“He looks wrecked.”
Something in me recoiled from the sympathy before I could stop it.
Then guilt followed.
Mark was allowed to look wrecked.
Our marriage was ending.
His mother had detonated something in front of fourteen people, and he had chosen the worst possible side of it.
That did not mean he felt nothing.
It only meant feeling had not made him act better.
“Is he there now?”
“Yes.”
“Put him on.”
Natalie looked at me sharply.
I raised one finger.
Claire whispered, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
A few muffled sounds followed.
Then Mark’s voice came through.
“Rachel?”
“You bought beds.”
Silence.
“For the girls.”
“I gathered that.”
“I needed somewhere for them to sleep.”
“You haven’t even spoken to them about staying there.”
“I’m their father.”
“That was not my point.”
He exhaled.
“We need a plan.”
“I agree.”
“Good.”
“Not your mother’s plan.”
“She’s trying to help.”
“No.”
My voice came out sharper than I intended.
“She is trying to erase what happened by replacing the cake.”
“She feels terrible.”
“Does Emma know that?”
“I haven’t talked to Emma.”
“You talked to her yesterday.”
“You know what I mean.”
There was that phrase again.
It had become a trapdoor in our marriage.
Whenever Mark could not defend what he had actually said, he invited me to substitute a better meaning for him.
I glanced at Natalie.
She was watching without interrupting.
“Your attorney contacted mine,” I said.
“I know.”
“I’m willing to discuss a temporary schedule.”
Mark was quiet.
“Okay.”
“The girls are not sleeping at your parents’ house tonight.”
His voice changed.
“Why?”
“Because Emma is afraid of your mother.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Natalie’s eyes narrowed.
I said nothing for a second.
Mark seemed to hear himself.
“I mean, Mom isn’t dangerous.”
“Emma doesn’t want to see her.”
“She’s ten.”
“Yes.”
“She doesn’t get to decide which adults are in her life based on one bad day.”
“One bad day?”
“Rachel.”
“No.”
I stood and walked to the far end of the conference room.
“You don’t get to shrink this again.”
“I’m not shrinking anything.”
“Your mother told our daughter she wasn’t worth celebrating because she wasn’t male.”
“That is not exactly what she said.”
I laughed.
Natalie looked down at her notes.
Maybe to give me the dignity of pretending she had not heard it.
“Actually, it was remarkably close.”
Mark’s breathing grew louder.
“Mom is willing to apologize.”
“To Emma?”
“Yes.”
“Without explaining why Emma misunderstood?”
Another silence.
I knew Diane too well.
“She hasn’t agreed to that, has she?”
“She wants a chance to talk.”
“No.”
“You can’t ban my mother forever.”
“I didn’t say forever.”
“You’re acting like she attacked Emma.”
“She threw a glass cake stand at the floor beside her.”
“That is not what happened.”
“It landed less than three feet from her.”
“She didn’t throw it at Emma.”
“I didn’t say she did.”
“You’re making it sound violent.”
“It was violent.”
He went quiet.
I hated that I was shaking again.
Natalie pushed a bottle of water toward me.
I ignored it.
Finally, Mark said, “What are you offering?”
That was the first useful sentence of the call.
“Two hours today.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I want them with me.”
“Yes.”
“Without you.”
“Yes.”
He sounded surprised.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Natalie.
She nodded once.
“A neutral place.”
“Fine.”
“Claire can be nearby.”
“Why?”
“Because Emma trusts her.”
“Claire doesn’t need to supervise me.”
“I didn’t say supervise.”
“That’s what you mean.”
“No.”
I stopped myself before saying it again.
“We’re not doing this if every sentence becomes a fight.”
He exhaled.
“Where?”
“Let the attorneys work out the details.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“What?”
“We need attorneys to arrange two hours with my own children?”
“We apparently need attorneys for a lot of things we used to handle badly ourselves.”
That silenced him.
I regretted the sentence immediately.
It was true, but it was also mean.
There was enough meanness in the room already.
Mark spoke more quietly.
“Are they okay?”
The question startled me.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Emma?”
“She’s hurt.”
“I know.”
“No.”
I pressed my thumb against the edge of the table.
“I don’t think you do.”
He did not argue.
That was new.
I could hear something in the background on his end.
Cabinet doors.
Then Diane’s voice, faint and indistinct.
Mark moved away from it.
“I want to fix this.”
“You can start by not making her see your mother today.”
“I’ll handle Mom.”
The phrase almost made me laugh.
Mark had been handling Diane for twelve years.
Mostly by handing her everyone else.
“Okay.”
I said it without irony this time.
He seemed to notice.
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
“If it’s just you and the girls today, I’m willing to make that work.”
He was quiet.
Then he said, “Thank you.”
The words landed strangely.
For years, basic compromise between us had usually ended with one person feeling defeated.
I could not remember the last time he had thanked me without sarcasm.
After the call, Natalie wrote something on her legal pad.
“What?”
I asked.
“Nothing.”
“That is visibly something.”
She looked up.
“You did better once he stopped arguing about his mother.”
“I nearly lost it.”
“You didn’t.”
“I wanted to.”
“That’s different.”
I sat down again.
“You heard him say the girls wouldn’t be around Diane?”
“I heard him agree.”
“Does that matter?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I reached for the water.
My hand was still shaking.
Natalie glanced at it and then away.
She did not comment.
By ten thirty, the attorneys had agreed on a temporary visit at a public library with a children’s courtyard and café attached.
Two hours.
Claire would bring Mark in through the front entrance.
Denise would bring the girls through the side parking lot.
May you like
I would not be there.
That last part felt wrong in my body even though my brain agreed with it.
