Chương 3
“What exactly did Claire make you promise?”
Graham opened his mouth, but Beth answered first.
“She asked him to let Nora be part of Millie’s life.”
I turned toward her.
“Part of her life how?”
Beth folded her arms, then unfolded them almost immediately.
“I don’t know exactly.”
“You knew enough to recognize the blue house.”
Her eyes dropped to the paving stones.
“I knew he’d started taking Millie there.”
“How long?”
“Rachel.”
I looked back at Graham.
“How long?”
He exhaled through his nose.
“About eight months.”
Eight months.
The number landed with strange precision.
Eight months meant Christmas.
It meant the weekend we drove three hours to see my parents.
It meant the morning Millie came home with purple marker on the side of her hand and told me she had been making cards with Daddy.
It meant Graham had been doing this while we discussed seating charts, picked flowers, combined insurance policies, and argued about whether the kitchen needed new cabinet handles.
“You’ve been taking her there for eight months.”
“Yes.”
“And you never thought I should know.”
“I thought you should know.”
“But you didn’t tell me.”
“No.”
“Those are different things.”
“I know.”
Beth shifted her weight.
“I should go back inside.”
I looked at her.
“You should stay.”
She stopped.
“Because I’m starting to think there are layers to this secret, and I’m apparently the only adult here who didn’t get the memo.”
“That’s not fair,” Graham said.
I stared at him.
He looked away first.
“No,” I said.
“It’s exactly fair.”
A burst of applause rose from inside the ballroom, followed by a cheer.
Someone had probably started a dance circle.
My wedding reception was continuing without me.
The absurdity of it made my hands feel numb.
Graham sat on the opposite end of the stone bench.
He left several feet between us.
“Nora and Claire met in college.”
I remained standing.
“Okay.”
“They were roommates for two years.”
“Okay.”
“They were close.”
Beth made a small sound.
Graham looked at her.
“What?”
“You always say close.”
“Because they were.”
“They were more than close.”
I turned to Beth.
Graham’s expression hardened.
“Beth.”
“She deserves the whole thing.”
“I’m trying to tell her.”
“No, you’re trying to tell her the version that lets you control when each bad part arrives.”
He stood.
“Stay out of it.”
Beth’s face flushed.
“You made me part of it when you asked me to cover for you.”
My eyes moved between them.
“Cover for what?”
Neither answered.
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
“This is incredible.”
“Rachel, listen to me.”
“I have been listening.”
I pointed toward Beth.
“She just said she covered for you.”
Graham looked tired now rather than frightened.
That annoyed me more than fear had.
I was the one standing outside my own wedding reception discovering that my husband had spent eight months arranging secret visits between his daughter and a woman connected to his dead wife.
He did not get to look exhausted by the inconvenience of explaining it.
“Claire and Nora were together before Claire met me,” he said.
The courtyard seemed to get quieter.
Even the music through the wall disappeared beneath the rush in my ears.
“Together.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Almost three years, I think.”
“You think?”
“I wasn’t there.”
“Don’t get sarcastic.”
“I’m not.”
“You sound sarcastic.”
“I’m trying not to say this badly.”
“You’re six years late.”
He flinched.
Beth looked toward the door.
I wondered if she was afraid someone might come outside.
For once, I hoped they did.
I almost wanted witnesses.
Not because I wanted humiliation.
Because I had begun to distrust private information.
“What happened between them?”
I asked.
Graham rubbed his palms against his suit pants.
“Claire wanted children.”
“Nora didn’t?”
“Nora did.”
He paused.
“At least eventually.”
“That doesn’t sound like the reason.”
“It wasn’t the only reason.”
“Then stop giving me one sentence at a time.”
His jaw flexed.
“Claire’s parents didn’t accept the relationship.”
I knew Claire’s parents.
They had attended the ceremony.
They had hugged me.
Her mother, Lillian, had cried while fastening a pearl bracelet around Millie’s wrist before the service.
I suddenly remembered the way Lillian had once described Nora when her name came up in an old photograph.
A college friend.
Nothing more.
“They pushed Claire hard.”
Graham continued.
“They threatened to stop paying tuition.”
“She was an adult.”
“She was twenty-one.”
“Still an adult.”
“I’m not defending them.”
“Then what happened?”
“She and Nora broke up.”
“And then Claire married you.”
“Not immediately.”
“How immediately is not immediately?”
“Two years later.”
I looked at Beth.
She nodded faintly.
Apparently that part was true.
“Did Claire love her?”
Graham’s face changed.
It was subtle, but I saw it.
“That’s the question you don’t want to answer.”
“She loved me.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Rachel.”
“Did she love Nora?”
He stared past my shoulder.
“I think part of her always did.”
There it was.
An answer so quiet it hurt more than anything dramatic could have.
I sat on the bench because my legs had begun shaking again.
My dress spread around me in stiff ivory folds.
A tiny dead leaf had caught in the hem.
I picked at it without thinking.
“So Claire was in love with Nora.”
“She was in love with me too.”
“I didn’t say she wasn’t.”
“I need you to understand that.”
“Why?”
“Because I know how this sounds.”
I looked up at him.
“I don’t think you do.”
He sat again.
Beth remained standing near the door.
“Claire contacted Nora during the pregnancy.”
I stopped picking at the leaf.
“When?”
“About five months in.”
“Did you know?”
“Not at first.”
“What does that mean?”
“I found out later.”
“Later when?”
“After Claire died.”
Every answer created another question.
It was like discovering a staircase in a house I thought I knew, each step leading down to another locked room.
“How did you find out?”
“Emails.”
“Her emails?”
May you like
“Yes.”
“You read them.”
