Chương 8
She rubbed both hands over her face.
“And then they showed me the messages I sent during orientation.”
Robert said, “Those were private.”
“Oh my God, Dad.”
“What?”
“You cannot defend me from my own text messages.”
He sat back.
“I’m your father.”
“That doesn’t make it your job to make me innocent.”
The sentence seemed to strike the entire table.
Claire looked at her sister.
Chloe’s eyes were wet, but she was not crying.
She blinked until the shine receded.
“I didn’t even really want that job.”
Diane frowned.
“What?”
Chloe stared at her plate.
“I wanted you to be proud of me.”
“We were.”
“I know.”
Her laugh was quiet and ugly.
“That was the whole point.”
Claire felt something shift inside her.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
Recognition.
Chloe continued.
“I saw the Harrington opening and thought if I got into a huge company with a fancy office, Mom would tell Aunt Lisa and Dad would finally stop asking what brand coordination means.”
Robert frowned.
“I know what it means.”
“You called it advertising for three years.”
“That’s essentially—”
“Dad.”
He stopped.
Chloe looked toward Claire.
“And I knew Claire worked there.”
Diane looked sharply at her.
“You said you didn’t.”
“I knew she worked there. I didn’t know she was CEO.”
Claire sat very still.
Chloe rubbed her thumb against the edge of the table.
“I thought maybe if I got hired there, she’d have to admit I was good at something.”
Claire stared at her.
“Why would you need me to admit that?”
Chloe’s expression turned almost angry.
“Because you never do.”
The accusation surprised Claire.
“That isn’t true.”
“Name one time.”
Claire opened her mouth.
Nothing came.
Chloe gave a small nod.
“Exactly.”
Claire searched memory.
There had been graduations.
Promotions.
Chloe’s campaigns.
A charity event she organized in college.
Claire had congratulated her, surely.
Hadn’t she?
She remembered text messages.
Nice.
Good for you.
Sounds fun.
Efficient little acknowledgments sent between flights and meetings.
She had spent years resenting their parents for making Chloe the center of every room.
At some point, without deciding to, Claire had begun withholding praise because Chloe already received too much.
She had called it fairness.
Chloe had experienced it as contempt.
Claire looked down at her plate.
“You’re right.”
Chloe blinked.
Robert said, “Claire—”
She ignored him.
“I don’t think I’ve been generous with you.”
Chloe’s face changed.
Claire continued before she lost courage.
“I thought everyone else was so generous that mine didn’t matter.”
“Well.”
Chloe looked away.
“It did.”
Diane pressed her lips together.
Claire stared at the tablecloth.
The pattern was the same pale blue one Diane had used every spring for years.
There was a faint stain near the center from a candle Robert had knocked over at Easter when Claire was seventeen.
For some reason, noticing it made the room feel less dangerous.
Claire said, “I’m sorry.”
Chloe breathed out.
“Okay.”
It was not forgiveness.
Claire was grateful for that.
Robert pushed his plate away.
“This is getting ridiculous. You’re both acting as if we committed some crime by loving Chloe.”
Claire looked at him.
“No one said that.”
“You imply it constantly.”
Diane said, “Robert.”
“No. I’m tired of being blamed because one daughter needed more support than the other.”
Claire felt the old reflex rise again.
Independent.
Capable.
Easy.
She looked at her father.
“Did you ever ask whether I needed support?”
Robert’s face hardened.
“You never asked for it.”
“I was a child.”
“You were never helpless.”
“I didn’t say helpless.”
The room went quiet again.
Claire could hear the refrigerator cycling on in the kitchen.
Robert looked toward his plate.
“I thought you liked being left alone.”
Claire stared at him.
There it was.
Not an apology.
Not even quite an admission.
But for the first time, she heard uncertainty instead of authority.
“I learned to like it,” she said.
Robert’s shoulders lowered slightly.
Diane looked at Claire.
“We were proud of you.”
Claire nodded.
“I believe you.”
Her mother’s eyes filled.
Claire continued.
“I just don’t think you were very interested in me.”
Diane looked as though Claire had slapped her.
Chloe whispered, “Claire.”
But Claire did not take it back.
Diane’s voice was thin.
“That’s cruel.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
“Well, you are.”
Claire nodded.
“I know.”
Her mother pushed away from the table and left the room.
Robert started to stand.
Chloe said, “Let her go.”
He stared at her.
Chloe looked tired.
“For once, let someone be upset without fixing the story.”
Robert remained standing for a moment.
Then he sat back down.
No one finished dinner.
Claire helped Chloe clear the plates.
Robert went to the living room and turned on a baseball game he did not seem to watch.
Diane stayed upstairs.
At the sink, Chloe rinsed dishes while Claire loaded the dishwasher.
“You put bowls on the bottom now?” Chloe asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s wrong.”
“It’s a machine.”
“It has laws.”
Claire looked at her.
Chloe pointed with a wet fork.
“Don’t CEO me.”
Claire moved the bowl.
“Happy?”
“No, but less disturbed.”
They worked in silence.
After a while Chloe said, “I’m taking down the posts.”
Claire stopped.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
“Harrington isn’t asking.”
“I know.”
Claire closed the dishwasher.
“Then why?”
Chloe turned off the water.
“Because some of it isn’t true anymore.”
“What part?”
“The part where I said you fired me because of family grudges.”
Claire leaned against the counter.
“You can leave up your criticism of how I handled it.”
“I plan to.”
Claire almost smiled.
“Fair.”
Chloe dried her hands.
“I still think you were awful.”
“I was.”
“And smug.”
“Yes.”
“And the nine-minutes line was psychotic.”
“HR used the phrase ‘personally charged.’”
Chloe stared at her.
Then she laughed.
Claire laughed too.
This time it lasted longer.
When it faded, Chloe looked down at the towel in her hands.
May you like
“Were you really going to let me work there?”
“If none of that happened?”
