Chương 9
She held the box.
“These are literally the same filters.”
“They’re not.”
“They fit the machine.”
“They collapse.”
“They have never collapsed.”
“They collapsed last week.”
Rachel stared at him.
Then looked at the calendar on the refrigerator.
Sunday.
“Oh.”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You did with your face.”
Rachel put the filters down.
“You miss her.”
He opened a cabinet.
Closed it.
“Yes.”
Rachel had expected that answer eventually.
She had not expected jealousy.
It arrived hot and childish.
After everything Vivian had done, Ethan missed her.
Rachel hated that part of herself.
“She’s your mother,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You’re allowed.”
“I know.”
Rachel opened the box and began putting filters into the drawer.
“I don’t want you to think you have to hate her because I’m angry with her.”
Ethan leaned against the counter.
“Thank you.”
Rachel shoved the drawer too hard.
It bounced open.
Ethan reached over and pushed it closed gently.
“You are still angry.”
“Obviously.”
“I mean right now.”
Rachel laughed.
“I’m apparently not as evolved as my vocabulary.”
“Neither am I.”
“I don’t want to compete with your mother.”
“You’re not.”
“Sometimes it feels like I am.”
Ethan nodded.
“That’s on me.”
Rachel looked at him.
He did not elaborate.
He did not promise never to make her feel that way again.
He simply owned the part he could own.
It was better than a promise.
The first visit happened in November.
Vivian asked to see Mia.
Not Rachel.
Mia.
Ethan showed Rachel the message.
Rachel’s stomach tightened.
“She hasn’t apologized.”
“No.”
“She still thinks she did nothing wrong.”
“Probably.”
Rachel paced the bedroom.
“Then no.”
Ethan sat on the bed.
“Okay.”
Rachel stopped.
“That’s it?”
“You said no.”
“You don’t disagree?”
“I do.”
Rachel stared at him.
“Then why did you say okay?”
“Because we said visits require two yeses.”
The rule had been Lena’s suggestion.
Rachel had agreed to it.
She had assumed it would protect her.
Now it annoyed her.
“What do you think?”
“I think three months is a long time for Mia.”
“She’s two. She barely understands time.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Rachel waited.
“I think Mom should apologize,” Ethan said. “I also think if we make the relationship depend on her saying exactly what we need her to say, there may never be one.”
“Maybe there shouldn’t be one.”
“Maybe.”
He did not fight.
That made it harder.
Rachel sat beside him.
“I’m scared she’ll do it again.”
“So am I.”
“You are?”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“I thought you thought I exaggerated.”
“I did.”
“And now?”
“I think you exaggerated sometimes.”
Rachel rolled her eyes.
“But not about that night.”
She looked down.
Ethan continued.
“I watched the video.”
Rachel’s head snapped up.
“What video?”
“Claire had one.”
“What?”
“She was filming Mom blowing out the candles.”
Rachel went cold.
“There’s a video of the whole thing?”
“Not the whole thing.”
“Of me hitting you?”
“No.”
Rachel exhaled.
“Just Mia grabbing the knife and Mom yelling.”
“Why didn’t Claire say something?”
“She didn’t realize she had it. The phone dropped onto the table when the cake fell.”
Rachel stared at him.
“You watched it?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you now.”
“What did it show?”
Ethan rubbed his hands together.
“Mia grabbed the knife.”
“I know.”
“Mom yelled.”
“I know.”
“She wasn’t yelling because she was scared about the knife.”
Rachel went still.
“How can you tell?”
“Because she says, ‘Look what you did.’ Before the line about getting her away.”
Rachel remembered the room.
The crying.
Vivian’s finger.
She had forgotten those words.
Or perhaps never heard them clearly.
Ethan looked at her.
“I was wrong about that.”
Rachel felt a pulse of vindication.
It was immediate.
Ugly.
Satisfying.
She wanted to say, I told you.
She wanted to ask whether he finally understood.
Then she saw his face.
He looked devastated.
Not because Rachel had been right.
Because something he had needed to believe about his mother had become harder to believe.
Rachel reached for his hand.
He let her take it.
“I’m sorry.”
He gave a small laugh.
“For being right?”
“For what it costs you.”
He looked at her.
“That was almost disgustingly mature.”
“Don’t worry. I’m still enjoying being right.”
He laughed again.
Then covered his eyes.
Rachel rested her head against his shoulder.
They did not use the video against Vivian.
That surprised Claire.
“You’re sure?” she asked when Rachel told her.
They were sitting at a playground while Mia attempted to put wood chips into the pocket of another child’s jacket.
“Yes.”
“It proves what happened.”
“We know what happened.”
“Mom keeps denying it.”
Rachel watched Mia.
“If we show her, she’ll argue about tone. Or context. Or say the video starts too late.”
Claire smiled grimly.
“Correct.”
“I don’t need to win court.”
“You’d be annoying in court.”
“I’d be excellent.”
“No, you’d interrupt the judge.”
Rachel laughed.
Claire’s smile faded.
“So what are you going to do?”
“I think we’re going to see her.”
Claire studied her.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Rachel took a long breath.
“Because Ethan misses her.”
Claire waited.
“And?”
“And I don’t want fear making the decision for me.”
Claire raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds therapeutic.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
The visit happened at Claire’s house.
Neutral territory.
Two hours.
No elaborate meal.
No birthday.
No formal table.
Pizza and salad on Claire’s kitchen island.
Vivian arrived carrying a wooden puzzle for Mia.
Rachel immediately disliked the gift.
Too educational.
Too pointed.
Then she told herself to stop inventing insults.
Mia hid behind Ethan for the first ten minutes.
Vivian did not force affection.
That mattered.
She sat on the floor in her expensive slacks and assembled the puzzle alone.
After a while Mia approached.
“Horse.”
Vivian looked at the piece in her hand.
“I believe that is a donkey.”
Mia frowned.
“Horse.”
Vivian opened her mouth.
May you like
Rachel saw the correction coming.
Then Vivian closed it.
