Chương 11
Evelyn turned.
Lila stood three steps from the bottom.
She wore mint-colored tights under a red skirt and had the reindeer beneath one arm.
Adrian stood instinctively.
Lila held out one hand.
“I’m okay.”
The phrase was one he used with her.
Hearing it from her made him sit again.
She came into the living room.
Evelyn’s face softened.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Lila stopped beside Adrian’s chair.
“Hi.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lila looked at him.
Adrian did not nod or shake his head.
This was hers.
Evelyn tried again.
“I said something cruel because I was angry.”
“At Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Evelyn glanced toward Adrian.
He said nothing.
“Grown-up reasons,” she said.
Lila frowned.
“That’s what Daddy says when he doesn’t want to tell me.”
Evelyn blinked.
Adrian looked at the window because he was dangerously close to laughing.
Lila hugged the reindeer.
“Was it because of work?”
Adrian looked at her.
“How do you know that?”
“You talk loud.”
He closed his eyes.
Evelyn said, “Partly.”
“Does Daddy work for you?”
“He works for our family company.”
“Are you the boss?”
“Sometimes.”
“Is Uncle Travis the boss?”
“Sometimes.”
“Is Daddy the boss?”
“Sometimes.”
Lila considered the arrangement.
“That sounds bad.”
Evelyn smiled before she could stop herself.
“Yes,” she said. “Sometimes.”
The smile vanished quickly.
Lila looked down at Rudolph.
“Do you think I don’t belong?”
Evelyn’s eyes closed for a second.
Adrian’s entire body tensed.
This was the question.
Not biology.
Not paperwork.
Not the company.
Not Evan.
The six-year-old had found the center faster than all of them.
Evelyn looked at Lila.
“You belong with your father.”
Lila’s face changed.
Adrian felt it before he understood it.
Wrong answer.
Lila pressed against his knee.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Evelyn opened her mouth.
Nothing came.
Adrian almost intervened.
He stopped himself.
His mother needed to answer without him writing the line.
Evelyn looked at the child she had known since toddlerhood.
At the sweater she had bought Lila the previous Christmas.
At the reindeer she had thrown.
At Nora’s daughter.
At Adrian’s daughter.
Maybe those identities had always existed in separate boxes in Evelyn’s mind, opened according to convenience.
“I think,” Evelyn said slowly, “I have been very bad at understanding what belonging means.”
Lila waited.
It was not enough for her either.
She asked, “Do I belong at your house?”
Evelyn’s eyes filled.
She did not cry.
Adrian was grateful for that.
He did not want Lila forced to comfort her.
“Yes,” Evelyn said. “You do.”
“Even if I touch presents?”
A laugh escaped Adrian before he could stop it.
Evelyn looked at him sharply.
Then she laughed too.
One small, unwilling sound.
Lila did not laugh.
She was serious.
“Yes,” Evelyn said. “Even if you touch presents.”
“Even if they’re not mine?”
“You should probably ask first.”
“That’s what Daddy said.”
“He was right.”
Lila looked pleased that somebody had finally introduced a sensible rule.
Then she held the reindeer out.
Evelyn’s expression fell.
“You hurt his antler.”
“I know.”
“Daddy fixed it bad the first time.”
Adrian said, “This feels unnecessary.”
Lila ignored him.
“He fixed it better the second time.”
“I’m glad.”
“Daddy threw him at Uncle Travis.”
“I saw that.”
“Daddy said sorry.”
Evelyn looked at Adrian.
He nodded once.
Lila brought the reindeer back to her chest.
“Did Uncle Travis say sorry?”
“He came by,” Adrian said.
“Did he write?”
“Not yet.”
“He’s slow.”
“That has been my experience.”
Evelyn almost smiled.
Then Lila asked, “Why is blood more family?”
The room went quiet.
Evelyn leaned back.
“Who said that?”
“You.”
“I didn’t say exactly—”
Adrian watched the defense rise automatically.
Then Evelyn stopped herself.
She looked at Lila.
“No,” she said. “You’re right.”
Lila waited.
Evelyn rubbed her thumb against the edge of her purse.
“I grew up thinking family meant people related by blood.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what I was taught.”
“By your mom?”
“Yes.”
“Was she mean?”
Evelyn gave a surprised laugh.
“Sometimes.”
“Did she throw stuff?”
“No.”
“Daddy throws stuff.”
“Once,” Adrian said.
Lila looked at him.
“You said once is still wrong.”
“Thank you for remembering every bad thing I’ve ever said.”
“You’re welcome.”
Evelyn watched them.
Something in her face loosened.
Then Lila said, “Daddy picked me.”
Evelyn looked down.
“Yes.”
“Did you pick Daddy?”
“I had him.”
“That’s not picking.”
“No.”
Lila nodded.
“Then maybe he practiced.”
Adrian stared at her.
“Practiced what?”
“Picking family.”
He wished she had not said it.
It was too neat.
Too close to the kind of sentence adults would repeat later because it made them feel they had learned something.
Lila ruined it almost immediately.
“Can I have pudding?”
Adrian laughed.
There she was.
“Yes.”
“Chocolate.”
“We have vanilla.”
“That’s not pudding.”
“It is absolutely pudding.”
“It’s sad pudding.”
She ran toward the kitchen.
Evelyn watched her go.
Then she looked at Adrian.
“I don’t know how to fix this.”
“You don’t.”
Her face hardened.
He continued before she could defend herself.
“You behave differently. For a long time.”
Evelyn looked toward the kitchen.
“I meant what I said.”
“Which part?”
“That she belongs.”
“Then act like it when it costs you something.”
His mother flinched.
Adrian did not enjoy it.
That was new.
A week earlier he might have.
Evelyn picked up her purse.
“Are you leaving the company?”
“I’m exploring it.”
“Because of me.”
“Because I need work and family to stop being the same leverage.”
“We could fix the agreement.”
“Travis told me.”
Her head snapped around.
“He what?”
“He looked at it.”
“I told him not to contact outside counsel without me.”
Adrian smiled.
“What?”
“There you are.”
Evelyn glared at him.
“You were almost human for fifteen minutes.”
“And you were almost pleasant.”
They stared at each other.
Then, to Adrian’s surprise, Evelyn looked tired.
Not defeated.
Not transformed.
Just sixty-two.
She buttoned her coat.
“I loved your father.”
“I know.”
“He was impossible.”
“I know.”
May you like
“He also believed the company was the family.”
“He was wrong.”
