Chương 4
Disappeared.
Returned.
Finally:
Tell her I love her.
Rachel put the phone facedown.
She went into the bathroom and tried to clean the peach dress.
The frosting came out.
A darker grease mark did not.
She rubbed until the satin puckered.
Then she stopped.
At two in the morning, she woke on top of the covers with the bedside lamp still on.
Her phone showed another message.
This one from Vivian.
I hope you understand that after what happened tonight, I cannot pretend everything is normal. I have never been treated with such disrespect in my life.
Rachel read it twice.
Then once more.
She wanted to answer.
She wanted to write every example she could remember.
She wanted to ask Vivian whether a ruined cake justified frightening a child.
She wanted to say, You trained your son to protect your feelings from everyone, including himself.
She wanted to say something cruel enough that Vivian would finally feel what Rachel had felt for years.
Instead Rachel opened a blank note on her phone and typed everything there.
She did not send it.
At seven fifteen, Mia woke asking for pancakes.
Children had a disturbing talent for surviving family crises without respecting the emotional schedule.
Rachel ordered pancakes.
Mia rejected them because the blueberries were “inside.”
Rachel cut around the blueberries.
Mia ate three bites and then asked for Ethan.
Rachel looked at the empty chair across from her.
“We’ll see Daddy soon.”
“Grandma too?”
Rachel hesitated.
“Maybe not Grandma today.”
Mia considered that.
Then dipped a finger into maple syrup.
At eight thirty, someone knocked.
Rachel checked the peephole.
Ethan.
She opened the door but did not invite him in immediately.
He wore the same olive shirt from the night before, wrinkled now. The red mark on his cheek had faded almost completely.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
They stood there.
Rachel hated that he looked familiar.
She had expected something to be visibly different.
He smelled like hotel soap.
His hair stuck up slightly near the crown.
For eleven years, she had known exactly where he kept spare phone chargers, how he sneezed twice in bright sunlight, which side of his neck hurt after long flights.
Now she did not know whether to let him into a hotel room.
“Mia’s eating.”
“I can come back.”
She stepped aside.
“No. Come in.”
Mia saw him and screamed happily.
“Daddy!”
Ethan’s entire face changed.
He crossed the room and crouched beside her.
“Hey, bug.”
“Cake fall.”
“I heard.”
“I make mess.”
“Yeah.”
Rachel watched him.
He picked up a napkin and wiped syrup from Mia’s wrist.
“Was it a pretty big mess?”
Mia spread her hands.
“Big.”
“That happens sometimes.”
“Grandma mad.”
Ethan paused.
Rachel saw his throat move.
“Yes.”
“Bad Mia?”
Ethan looked at Rachel.
Then back at Mia.
“No, bug.”
He touched her nose.
“You did something you weren’t supposed to do. You’re still you.”
Mia smiled.
Rachel turned toward the window because tears had started again and she was tired of crying in front of people.
Ethan stayed with Mia until she finished breakfast.
He did not mention the slap.
Neither did Rachel.
For fifteen minutes they performed parenthood together almost normally.
Shoes.
Hair.
A clean shirt.
Finding the stuffed rabbit that Mia had somehow shoved underneath an armchair.
Then Ethan said, “Claire can watch her for an hour.”
Rachel looked at him.
“You already asked Claire?”
“I asked if she’d be willing. I didn’t tell her we decided anything.”
A small irritation rose.
Then Rachel forced it down.
“Okay.”
“Only if you’re comfortable.”
“I’m comfortable with Claire.”
He nodded.
That sentence had more underneath it than either acknowledged.
Claire arrived wearing leggings and Mark’s oversized college sweatshirt.
She had no makeup on and looked ten years younger than she had at dinner.
Mia ran to her.
Claire hugged her.
“Hey, frosting criminal.”
Rachel stiffened.
Claire immediately grimaced.
“Bad joke.”
Mia laughed anyway.
“Cake fall!”
“Yes, I heard the cake had a rough night.”
Rachel appreciated that Claire did not say more.
They left Mia with her and walked downstairs.
The resort had a library lounge near the lobby with leather chairs nobody seemed to use in the morning.
Rachel and Ethan chose two chairs facing each other.
For a while neither spoke.
A man across the room typed on a laptop.
An employee polished the brass edge of a fireplace screen.
Rachel noticed the employee had one shoelace untied.
She kept staring at it.
Finally Ethan said, “I don’t know how to talk about this.”
“Me neither.”
“I’m angry.”
“You should be.”
He rubbed his hands together.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
Rachel looked up sharply.
“I didn’t ask.”
“I know. I’m telling you because I don’t want to exaggerate what happened. I don’t think you’re going to start hitting me. I don’t feel unsafe around you.”
She waited.
“But you hit me.”
“Yes.”
“And I keep replaying it.”
Rachel’s throat tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“No. I mean—”
She stopped.
The apology she wanted to give started turning into a speech in her head.
She abandoned it.
“I’m sorry.”
Ethan stared at the carpet.
Rachel said, “I was furious. That explains it. It doesn’t excuse it.”
He nodded once.
“I appreciate you saying that.”
Another pause.
Then Rachel asked, “Can we talk about your mother?”
He leaned back.
Immediately.
A physical retreat.
“See?”
“What?”
“That.”
“I just said we could talk.”
“Your whole body said no.”
Ethan looked annoyed.
“My body is apparently having a private conversation.”
Rachel almost smiled.
Almost.
He rubbed his face.
“Fine. Talk about Mom.”
Rachel hated how much permission she heard in the sentence.
“She screamed at a two-year-old.”
“She screamed because Mia had a knife.”
“No. She screamed because of the cake.”
“She was scared.”
“She pointed at Mia and said get that child away from me.”
“She was angry.”
“Exactly.”
Ethan exhaled.
“Rachel, it was her seventieth birthday. That cake cost—”
He stopped.
May you like
Rachel stared at him.
“How much did it cost?”
