Chương 8
“Your sister has made honesty expensive for you,” Evelyn had told her.
Rachel had spent years remembering her own guilt.
She had almost forgotten Claire’s punishment.
Now she understood why Claire had frozen in the entryway.
Noah said, “Mom?”
Rachel opened her eyes.
“Yeah.”
“Are you mad again?”
“Yes.”
“At me?”
“Yes.”
He blinked.
Rachel put an arm around him.
“And at Grandma.”
He leaned against her reluctantly, because ten-year-old boys had rules about how much comfort they could appear to accept.
“And at myself,” Rachel said.
“Why?”
“Because I should’ve stopped some things sooner.”
“You weren’t here.”
“I mean before today.”
He did not ask what she meant.
Rachel was grateful.
That night Lily slept in Rachel’s bed.
She did not ask to.
At ten thirty Rachel found her standing in the hallway with her pillow.
“Can I?”
Rachel lifted the blanket.
Lily climbed in.
For twenty minutes they said nothing.
Rachel answered two work emails because she did not know what else to do with her hands. Lily watched a ceiling-fan shadow move across the wall.
Finally she said, “Was Grandma mean to you when you were little?”
Rachel closed the laptop.
“Sometimes.”
“Like today?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did she throw your birthday clothes?”
“No.”
Lily considered that.
“Then maybe different mean.”
Rachel smiled sadly.
“Yeah.”
“Do you still love her?”
The question landed differently than Rachel expected.
“Yes.”
“Even when she’s mean?”
“Yes.”
Lily frowned.
“That’s confusing.”
“It is.”
“Do I have to?”
Rachel turned toward her.
“Have to what?”
“Love her.”
Rachel’s throat tightened.
“No.”
Lily looked surprised.
“You don’t have to feel something because somebody is family.”
“Would you be sad if I didn’t?”
Rachel thought about it.
“Maybe.”
“Then I have to.”
“No.”
“But you’d be sad.”
“That would be my feeling. Not your job.”
Lily stared at the ceiling.
After a while she said, “I think I love her a little and I don’t want to see her.”
Rachel nodded.
“That makes sense.”
“Can both be true?”
“Yes.”
Lily pulled the blanket to her chin.
“Okay.”
At eleven thirteen, Rachel’s phone lit up on the nightstand.
Mom.
She let it stop.
It rang again.
Rachel muted it.
In the morning there were four messages.
Call me when you are prepared to have an adult conversation.
I will not apologize for trying to teach honesty.
Noah’s theft is the issue you are avoiding.
And finally, sent at 2:08 a.m.:
I should not have involved Lily.
Rachel read the last message three times.
Then she put the phone down without responding.
Sunday felt worse.
Saturday had contained tasks.
Sunday contained aftermath.
Noah’s phone stayed in Rachel’s desk drawer.
His tablet joined it.
He was assigned to write down exactly how much money he had, how much he had spent during the previous month, and what chores he was willing to do if he still wanted a bike.
He hated this.
“This is dumb.”
“Maybe.”
“No one does a budget for a bike.”
“People do budgets for everything.”
“Kids don’t.”
“Kids who steal two hundred dollars get exciting financial education.”
He glared at her.
“You’re making fun of me.”
“A little.”
“That’s mean.”
“A little.”
He almost smiled and refused to.
Lily avoided him most of the morning.
At lunch she moved her chair when he sat beside her.
He did not complain.
Sophie asked why everyone was acting “like the house got in trouble.”
Rachel had no useful answer.
Claire arrived at two.
She stood outside instead of letting herself in with the keypad code she had known for three years.
Rachel noticed that immediately.
She opened the door.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Claire looked exhausted.
“Can I come in?”
Rachel stepped aside.
Lily was at the kitchen table drawing.
When she saw Claire, her shoulders tensed.
Claire saw that.
She stopped.
“Hey, Lil.”
“Hi.”
“I owe you an apology.”
Rachel watched carefully.
Claire did not move closer.
“I knew Noah had taken Grandma’s money. I should have told the truth as soon as Grandma blamed you. I didn’t. I was scared of making her angrier, and I let you be scared instead.”
Lily put down her marker.
Claire swallowed.
“That was wrong.”
Lily looked at Rachel.
Rachel said nothing.
Lily asked, “Why are you scared of Grandma?”
Claire let out a breath.
“Because I’m kind of a coward with her.”
Rachel winced.
Claire shook her head.
“No, that’s fair.”
Lily considered her.
“Mom says you don’t have to call yourself bad if you did something bad.”
Rachel looked at her daughter.
Claire did too.
“Your mom said that?”
“Not exactly.”
Rachel laughed.
Claire smiled weakly.
“Well. I did something cowardly.”
Lily returned to her drawing.
“Okay.”
Claire waited.
Rachel could see she wanted forgiveness.
Lily did not offer it.
After a moment Claire nodded.
“Okay.”
She went into the kitchen with Rachel.
“That could’ve gone worse,” Claire whispered.
“It could still.”
“I deserve that.”
“Stop doing that.”
“What?”
“Trying to agree with every bad thing before I say it.”
Claire leaned against the counter.
“I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Neither do I.”
They stood there.
The refrigerator hummed.
On the back patio, Sophie dragged a plastic watering can across the concrete even though none of the plants needed water.
Claire looked toward the window.
“Mom says you’ve poisoned the kids against her.”
Rachel laughed once.
“Of course she does.”
“She also says she made a mistake.”
“Which one?”
Claire gave her a tired look.
“Exactly.”
Rachel folded her arms.
“What happened after you left?”
“She spent the whole drive telling me Noah was the real problem.”
“He is a problem.”
“I know.”
“He stole two hundred dollars.”
“I know.”
“But somehow she thinks if Noah did something wrong, she can’t have done anything wrong.”
Claire nodded.
“That’s Mom.”
Rachel looked at her.
“No. We have to stop saying that.”
Claire went quiet.
Rachel continued.
“That sentence has done half her work for her.”
May you like
Claire stared at the floor.
After a moment she said, “Do you remember the sleepover?”
