Chương 9
He looked toward the hallway.
“That sounded familiar.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“I’m going to apologize.”
“Good.”
He stopped.
“Was that controlling?”
“A little.”
“Damn it.”
She smiled.
“Go.”
He did.
Margaret did not forgive him immediately either.
That became a family joke months later.
Not then.
Then it was simply another uncomfortable evening in which people who loved each other had to decide whether love excused bad behavior.
It did not.
It did, sometimes, make repair worth attempting.
September brought them back to the mountain lodge.
Claire almost refused to go.
Margaret did not pressure her.
That was why she went.
The terrace looked smaller than Claire remembered.
The firepit had been rebuilt with a wider stone border. The champagne tables stood in nearly the same place.
Claire stopped at the glass doors.
Ethan noticed.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Want to leave?”
She looked outside.
Guests were laughing.
Someone carried a tray of champagne across the stones.
Claire’s chest tightened.
Then Margaret appeared beside Robert, wearing a dark-blue dress.
She saw Claire.
She did not wave.
She simply waited.
Claire stepped outside.
The cold air hit her face.
She walked toward Margaret.
Halfway there, a young server passed carrying glasses.
Claire moved aside.
The server smiled.
“Thank you.”
Two ordinary words.
Claire almost laughed at how much they hurt.
Margaret reached her.
“You came.”
“I said I would.”
“You say many things.”
Claire smiled.
“So do you.”
Robert excused himself.
Ethan wandered toward the firepit, giving them privacy without announcing it.
Claire looked at the stone where the ring had fallen.
“You know exactly where it was, don’t you?” Margaret asked.
“Yes.”
“I do too.”
Claire looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
Margaret sighed.
“You’ve apologized.”
“I know.”
“Several hundred times.”
“Probably.”
“You can stop now.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
“Does that mean—”
“It means you can stop apologizing.”
Margaret looked toward Ethan.
“He loves you.”
“I know.”
“That wasn’t always enough.”
“No.”
“Maybe it still isn’t.”
Claire nodded.
Margaret turned back.
“But I forgive you.”
Claire did not speak.
Margaret’s eyes filled slightly.
“So please don’t make this horrible by crying all over me.”
Claire laughed and cried anyway.
Margaret hugged her.
It was not cinematic.
Claire’s earring caught in Margaret’s hair.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.”
“Your jewelry is attacking me now.”
Claire laughed harder.
Ethan looked over from the firepit.
Margaret freed herself.
“Go talk to your husband.”
Claire wiped her face.
“He’s not wearing his ring.”
“I have eyes.”
“I don’t know if he ever will.”
“That’s between you two.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
Claire found Ethan near the edge of the terrace.
Snow had not begun yet. The mountains were dark against the evening sky.
He handed her a glass of champagne.
She stared at it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Should I have gotten wine?”
“No.”
She took it.
They stood together.
After a while Ethan said, “Mom forgave you.”
Claire looked at him.
“She told you?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“She hugged you.”
“She’s hugged me before.”
“Not like that.”
Claire sipped the champagne.
“What does this change?”
“For us?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
She smiled faintly.
“Still?”
“Still.”
He reached into his pocket.
Claire stopped breathing.
Ethan pulled out the wedding ring.
He turned it between his fingers.
“I’ve been carrying this thing for seven months.”
“I know.”
“It’s scratched.”
“It hit stone.”
“I remember.”
Claire looked away.
“I wish I could erase that day.”
“I don’t.”
She turned back.
Ethan was looking at the ring.
“I used to,” he said. “But if we erase it, we erase everything after it too.”
“That sounds suspiciously profound.”
“I’ve been practicing.”
She smiled.
Then he became serious.
“I don’t think people prove who they are in one moment.”
Claire looked at him.
“That’s not what you said that day.”
“I know.”
“You said I showed you who you were marrying.”
“You did.”
The words hurt.
He let them.
Then he continued.
“You showed me something real about you. Something I had been pretending not to see.”
Claire nodded.
“But that wasn’t all of you.”
She looked down at her champagne.
“I don’t want that to become an excuse.”
“It isn’t.”
“Good.”
“And what happened afterward showed me things too.”
Claire waited.
“You stayed when leaving would have been easier.”
“I almost left.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know how many times.”
“Probably more than I want to.”
She smiled weakly.
Ethan held the ring in his palm.
“I kept waiting to feel certain.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“And?”
“I don’t.”
She laughed once.
“That’s romantic.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He looked at her.
“I think certainty was part of our problem.”
Claire considered that.
They had been certain about everything.
The venue.
The flowers.
The guest count.
The apartment.
The five-year plan.
Children at thirty-three.
House at thirty-five.
They had mistaken planning for knowing.
Ethan slipped the ring onto his finger.
Claire stared.
It stopped briefly at the knuckle.
Then settled into place.
She covered her mouth.
“Don’t make a scene,” he said.
She hit his arm.
Not hard.
He laughed.
“Too soon?”
“Very.”
“Sorry.”
Claire touched the ring with one finger.
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
She looked up.
He smiled.
“I’m choosing it anyway.”
Behind them, someone dropped a champagne glass.
The sound cracked across the terrace.
Claire flinched.
So did Margaret.
For half a second the past returned intact.
The silver tray.
The fire.
The terrible silence.
Then the young server who had dropped the glass crouched immediately.
“I’m so sorry.”
The bride at the other wedding turned.
Claire watched her.
The bride laughed.
“Are you kidding? It’s a glass.”
The server smiled nervously.
Someone brought a broom.
Conversation resumed.
Nothing terrible happened.
Claire looked at Margaret.
Margaret was looking at her.
Neither woman said anything.
They did not need to.
Later, after dinner, Robert asked Margaret to dance.
Ethan made a face.
Claire elbowed him.
“What?”
“Behave.”
“I am behaving.”
“You look constipated.”
“That’s my mother.”
“I’m aware.”
“With a man.”
May you like
“Yes, Ethan. Adults sometimes dance.”
“He has his hand on her back.”
