Chương 15
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
“Then show her.”
Emma lingered.
“What?”
“She said she’s proud of me.”
Laura waited.
“Okay.”
“Is she allowed?”
Laura’s heart hurt in a way she could not easily name.
“Yes.”
“Even though I’m still mad?”
“Yes.”
Emma considered this.
“People are annoying.”
Laura laughed.
“That is one of the central discoveries of adulthood.”
Emma went inside.
Through the screen door, Laura watched her carry the papier-mâché solar system toward Margaret.
Saturn had lost part of a ring during transportation.
Margaret noticed.
Laura could see the instinct arrive.
The urge to correct.
Fix.
Prevent imperfection.
Margaret opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Emma explained something.
Margaret listened.
A few minutes later David came outside with two cups of coffee.
He handed Laura one.
“You spying?”
“Observing.”
“Same thing with better branding.”
They stood together.
“You okay?” he asked.
Laura nodded.
Then shook her head.
“Mostly.”
“Same.”
Inside, Margaret was holding Jupiter.
Emma took it from her and moved it somewhere else.
Margaret let her.
David leaned against the railing.
“I keep thinking about Dad.”
“Me too.”
“Think we got it right?”
Laura looked at him.
“The trust?”
“Everything.”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Comforting.”
“I think we got closer.”
They drank coffee.
A lawn mower started somewhere down the street.
David grimaced.
“On Easter?”
“People have grass.”
“Still offensive.”
Laura smiled.
Through the door, Margaret laughed at something Emma said.
The sound startled Laura.
Not because Margaret never laughed.
Because Emma did not look over to see whether Laura approved.
That mattered.
In June, Claire had a small baby shower.
There was cake.
Emma noticed it immediately.
Laura saw her notice.
So did Margaret.
Nobody said anything.
Later, Emma volunteered to help Claire cut it.
Laura’s stomach tightened.
She hated that.
She hated that a harmless cake server had become an object she watched.
Margaret stood on the opposite side of the room.
She did not move.
Emma picked up the server.
Her hand was too close to the blade.
Laura opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Claire gently shifted Emma’s fingers.
“Hold it here.”
“Oh.”
“Yep. Easier.”
Emma cut the first piece crooked.
Nobody died.
Nobody shouted.
Nobody lost their place in the family.
Margaret looked at Laura.
Laura looked back.
Neither smiled.
They did not need to.
In August, nearly a year after the wedding, the family returned to the lakeside pavilion for Claire and Nathan’s anniversary dinner.
Only twelve people came.
The day was clear this time.
Sunlight stretched across the lake, and the mountains were visible all the way to their ridgelines.
Laura arrived with Emma.
Margaret was already there.
She wore a pale green dress and no pearls.
Emma ran toward Claire.
Laura watched her go.
Margaret approached.
“You’re late.”
“Three minutes.”
“Late is binary.”
“And hello to you too.”
Margaret sighed.
“Hello, Laura.”
“Hello, Mom.”
They stood near the table where the miniature cake had broken.
The pavilion had replaced the cream linens with white ones. The chairs were different.
For a moment Laura wondered whether Margaret remembered the exact spot.
Then her mother said, “It was here.”
Laura looked at her.
“Yes.”
“I still have the dress.”
“The chocolate dress?”
“It was not called the chocolate dress when I bought it.”
“What do you call it now?”
Margaret gave her a flat look.
Laura smiled.
“Did the stain come out?”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“There is a shadow.”
Laura did not know why that pleased her.
Margaret noticed.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
“I considered sending you the cleaning bill.”
“Michael predicted that.”
“Michael would.”
They watched Emma help Claire arrange flowers.
After a while Margaret said, “I hated you that day.”
Laura turned.
Margaret kept looking forward.
“For perhaps ten minutes.”
“That’s impressively specific.”
“I was standing in a bathroom wearing a towel around my waist while Susan tried to remove chocolate from silk with club soda.”
Laura pressed her lips together.
“Do not laugh.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“A little.”
Margaret looked at her.
Then, unexpectedly, she smiled.
It disappeared quickly.
“I hated you,” she repeated. “And then I realized I had given you exactly what you had wanted from me for years.”
“What?”
“A reason to stop protecting my feelings.”
Laura stared at her.
“That wasn’t what I wanted.”
“No?”
“No. I wanted you to protect mine sometimes.”
Margaret’s smile vanished.
The words sat between them.
Laura almost took them back.
She didn’t.
Margaret looked toward Emma.
“I should have.”
“Yes.”
“I thought making you tougher was protection.”
“I know.”
“That is not an excuse.”
“No.”
Margaret nodded.
They had learned, painfully, that explanation and absolution were different things.
Emma came running over.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“Claire has mini cakes.”
Laura looked toward the dessert table.
Six tiny cakes sat beneath glass covers.
Of course.
Claire caught her eye from across the room and looked horrified.
“I forgot!” she called.
Laura started laughing.
David nearly spilled his drink.
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
Emma looked between them.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Laura said.
“Can I have one?”
Laura looked at Margaret.
Margaret looked at Emma.
“Ask Claire,” both women said simultaneously.
Emma frowned.
“That was weird.”
She ran away.
Margaret shook her head.
“She has your walk.”
“What does that mean?”
“You stomp when you’re determined.”
“I do not stomp.”
“You absolutely do.”
Laura watched Emma reach the dessert table.
Claire handed her a small cake.
Chocolate.
Naturally.
Emma carried it with both hands.
Laura felt her body tense.
She noticed.
So did Margaret.
Neither moved.
Emma reached the table safely.
She set the plate down.
Then she looked toward them.
“Grandma?”
Margaret stiffened.
“Yes?”
“Can you help me cut it?”
The room did not stop.
Nobody else understood what had happened.
David was talking to Nathan.
Claire was rearranging napkins.
A server passed carrying champagne.
Outside, a boat crossed the lake.
Margaret looked at Laura.
Laura said nothing.
Slowly, Margaret walked to Emma.
She stopped beside her.
“May I show you where to put your fingers?”
Emma nodded.
Margaret did not touch the server.
She pointed.
“Here.”
Emma adjusted her hand.
“Like this?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Emma cut downward.
The cake leaned.
Margaret instinctively reached toward it.
Her hand stopped in midair.
Emma steadied the plate herself.
“Got it.”
“Yes,” Margaret said.
“You almost grabbed it.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Bad habit.”
Emma considered that.
“Mom says habits take practice to change.”
Margaret looked across the table at Laura.
“She’s right.”
Emma cut three uneven pieces.
She gave the largest to herself.
Margaret raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You made a face.”
“I made no face.”
“You did.”
Laura laughed from across the room.
Margaret looked at her.
For years, a look like that had meant Laura should stop.
Lower her voice.
Behave.
Preserve appearances.
Laura kept laughing.
A second later, Margaret did too.
Emma stared at both of them as if adults were the most embarrassing species on earth.
Then she ate a bite of cake.
Chocolate icing touched the corner of her mouth.
Margaret reached for a napkin.
She stopped.
Instead she held it out.
Emma took it.
Outside, evening light settled over the lake.
There was no rain on the glass this time, no cracked porcelain, no room full of people pretending not to stare.
The old damage had not vanished. Thomas was still dead. Margaret had still controlled things that had not belonged solely to her. David had still stayed silent. Laura had still spent years believing distance was the same thing as freedom. Emma would remember what her grandmother had said at the wedding, perhaps longer than any of them wanted.
Nothing had been made clean.
That was not what repair looked like.
Emma finished her piece and pushed the plate toward Margaret.
“You want some?”
Margaret looked at the cake.
“Is this a trap?”
Emma grinned.
“Maybe.”
Margaret took the fork.
Laura watched her mother hesitate before eating the first bite.
Then Margaret glanced down at her pale green dress.
“Not a word.”
Laura lifted both hands.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was thinking.”
“I know your thinking face.”
Emma looked at Laura.
“Your mouth gets flat.”
Margaret stared at her granddaughter.
Then at Laura.
May you like
Laura laughed so hard she had to put down her champagne.
This time Margaret did not tell her to stop.
