Chương 13
“I want Caroline.”
Arthur’s first response formed instantly.
Why?
He swallowed it.
“All right.”
Caroline went.
Arthur stayed home.
He reorganized the kitchen drawer containing batteries.
He knew exactly how ridiculous that was.
He did it anyway.
Eleanor found him sorting AA from AAA.
“You’re hiding.”
“I’m organizing.”
“You have employees for this.”
“That would be excessive.”
She stared at him.
“Arthur, you own a snowcat.”
“It has practical uses.”
“In Boston?”
He closed the drawer.
Eleanor leaned against the counter.
“You’re afraid she’ll hate you.”
Arthur looked at her.
“Yes.”
Eleanor nodded.
“Good.”
He frowned.
“That came out wrong.”
“Very.”
“I mean good that you know.”
He looked away.
“She has reasons.”
“So do you.”
“I buried her.”
“You were lied to.”
“I made lying to me seem safer than telling me the truth.”
Eleanor was quiet.
“That part is probably true.”
Arthur gave her a look.
“What? You don’t need comfort. You need accuracy.”
He almost smiled.
They heard a vehicle outside.
Arthur stopped breathing.
Eleanor touched his arm.
He did not move.
The front door opened.
Caroline entered first.
Then Ethan.
Then Margaret.
Arthur had seen her on video.
It did not prepare him.
She stood fifteen feet away.
Older.
Thinner.
Real.
There was a slight stiffness in her right leg when she walked.
Arthur remembered her physical therapy records.
Margaret looked at him.
For several seconds nobody moved.
Then she said, “You got old.”
Arthur laughed.
It came out broken.
“So did you.”
“Not as much.”
“No.”
Eleanor made an irritated sound.
“Are you both going to stand there measuring each other?”
Margaret looked at her mother.
“That sounds familiar.”
Then Ethan walked between them holding Margaret’s hand.
“Can we eat?”
Arthur stared at their joined hands.
Something painful loosened inside him.
“Yes.”
Dinner was terrible.
Not the food.
Caroline ordered Italian from a nearby restaurant.
The food was fine.
Everything else was awkward.
Margaret sat across from Arthur.
Ethan sat beside her, then changed seats halfway through because he wanted more bread and the basket was closer to Caroline.
Eleanor asked too many questions.
Arthur asked none.
Caroline spilled water.
Margaret laughed when Arthur complained about the wine.
Then stopped laughing because the sound reminded everyone how familiar she was.
At one point Arthur said, “You used to hate mushrooms.”
Margaret replied, “I was thirty-six, Dad. Preferences can change.”
The table went silent.
Arthur looked down.
Margaret sighed.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
“I’m going to say things badly.”
“So am I.”
“That is extremely believable.”
Caroline snorted.
Ethan looked confused.
“Was that a joke?”
Margaret said, “A little.”
“Okay.”
After dinner Ethan wanted to show Margaret his room.
She went upstairs with him.
Arthur remained at the table.
Caroline cleared plates.
“You survived.”
“Barely.”
“You said almost nothing.”
“I was trying not to control the conversation.”
Caroline stared.
“Maybe land somewhere between total control and becoming furniture.”
Arthur frowned.
“Helpful.”
“I try.”
Margaret returned twenty minutes later.
She stood in the doorway.
“Can we talk?”
Arthur nodded.
They went outside to the covered terrace.
The night was cold but still.
No storm.
Arthur hated that part of him noticed the contrast.
Margaret sat.
Arthur remained standing until she looked at him.
“You still do that.”
“What?”
“Stand when you’re uncomfortable.”
He sat.
For a while neither spoke.
Margaret looked across the dark yard.
“I watched you at the funeral.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“Vanessa told you.”
“Yes.”
“I shouldn’t have gone.”
“No.”
“I thought I needed to see.”
“What?”
“Whether you cared.”
Arthur looked at her.
Margaret’s mouth twisted.
“I was not emotionally healthy.”
“You thought I didn’t care?”
“I knew you loved me.”
“That’s not the same question.”
She looked at him.
“No.”
Arthur waited.
Margaret rubbed her hands together.
“I thought you cared more about being right than having me around.”
Arthur looked away.
The accusation was old.
That made it worse.
“I probably did sometimes.”
“You did.”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
Margaret blinked.
Arthur frowned.
“What?”
“I had a whole response prepared for when you explained why I was wrong.”
He almost laughed.
“I’m trying something new.”
“It’s unsettling.”
They sat.
Arthur said, “Why didn’t you contact me after you left the clinic?”
Margaret’s face tightened.
“I found out Benton had people watching Mom.”
Arthur nodded.
“I went to Maine under another name. I planned to stay six weeks.”
“Six years.”
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
“I tried to get Ethan back.”
Arthur’s chest tightened.
“Vanessa told me he died during a respiratory infection.”
Margaret swallowed.
“She sent me a death certificate.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
“I believed it.”
“Why didn’t you come home then?”
Margaret looked toward the yard.
“Because Ethan had been the reason to keep fighting.”
Arthur heard what she did not say.
“And after?”
“I wasn’t well.”
He waited.
Margaret pressed her hands between her knees.
“I drank.”
Arthur stared.
“For how long?”
“Long enough.”
“Are you—”
“Sober. Four years.”
He nodded.
She watched him.
“You want details.”
“Yes.”
“You want doctors’ names, dates, treatment centers.”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
Arthur looked at his hands.
“I’m trying not to ask.”
“That counts.”
He almost smiled.
Margaret continued.
“I got sober. Worked under another name. Eventually became a nurse again. Every year I thought about calling. Then the longer I waited, the harder it became.”
“Your mother knew where you were?”
“No.”
“Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Then how did—”
“I used one of the old aliases for a licensing record. Stupid.”
“Human.”
She looked at him.
“That sounds unlike you.”
“I’m changing rapidly.”
“Don’t overdo it.”
They both smiled.
Then the silence returned.
Arthur said, “Ethan wants you.”
Margaret looked through the window.
Inside, Ethan sat on the floor with Caroline.
“I want him.”
“But?”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“I don’t know how to be his mother.”
Arthur’s first instinct was to reassure her.
You’ll learn.
It will be fine.
He stopped.
“Neither does he.”
She looked at him.
“He doesn’t know how to be your son.”
May you like
Margaret stared toward the house.
Arthur continued.
