Chương 10
On page five, the tone changed.
She wrote:
I thought if Mia stopped holding that doll she might stop making Claire’s death the center of every room. I told myself I was helping her move forward. That sounds stupid now. It was also cruel. I knew it would hurt her when I put it in the fire. That was part of why I did it.
Ethan stopped reading.
He went outside.
The maple tree Claire had wanted to climb was beginning to leaf.
He stood beneath it with the letter in his hand.
For months he had wanted Margaret to understand exactly what she had done.
Now that she had written one honest sentence, he found it brought no satisfaction.
It simply hurt in a cleaner way.
Mia came out barefoot.
“You stopped.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at the page.
“Grandma finally said something true.”
“Good true or bad true?”
“Both.”
Mia sat on the back step.
“Can I read it?”
“Some of it.”
“Not all?”
“Some of it is adult stuff.”
She accepted this more easily than he expected.
They read the last page together.
Margaret wrote:
I do not expect you to trust me because I have decided to be sorry. I am learning that being sorry does not create an obligation in the person I hurt.
Mia stumbled over obligation.
Ethan explained the word.
Margaret continued:
If you ever want to see me, I will follow the rules your father sets even if I dislike them. If you do not want to see me, I will not come to your school or your house. I will not ask other relatives to change your mind.
I still love you.
Grandma
Mia read the final line twice.
“Do I have to answer?”
“No.”
She put the letter down.
“Can I have a Popsicle?”
“Sure.”
That was all.
In June, Mia decided she wanted to see Margaret.
Ethan asked why.
Mia shrugged.
“I want to know if she’s still mean.”
“That is not a reassuring reason.”
“I’m curious.”
They discussed it with Dr. Patel.
They discussed it with Nora.
Ethan did not discuss it with Derek.
Finally he arranged forty-five minutes at a public botanical garden on a Saturday afternoon.
Ethan would remain present.
No gifts.
No discussion of Claire unless Mia started it.
No arguing about the past.
No asking Mia when she would visit again.
Margaret agreed to every condition.
Then she arrived with a gift.
Ethan saw the shopping bag in her hand from fifty feet away.
He almost turned around.
Margaret noticed his face.
“It is not for Mia.”
She handed the bag to him.
Inside was coffee.
Black.
No sugar.
He stared at her.
“You still drink that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Mia stood behind Ethan.
Margaret looked at her.
For once she seemed to have no prepared expression.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Mia did not answer immediately.
Then she said, “Hi.”
Margaret’s eyes moved to the doll in Mia’s arms.
The repaired seam was obvious. The burned side remained black.
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
“I’m glad you fixed her.”
“Daddy did it bad.”
Ethan looked down.
“Thank you.”
Margaret almost smiled.
Mia added, “Then he did it better.”
They walked.
The garden was crowded with families, strollers and people taking photographs of roses. A toddler threw crackers at a duck despite a sign asking visitors not to feed wildlife.
For ten minutes the conversation was unbearable.
Margaret asked about school.
Mia said, “Fine.”
Margaret asked about summer.
Mia said, “I don’t know.”
Margaret asked if she still liked drawing.
Mia said, “Sometimes.”
Ethan drank his coffee and resisted the urge to rescue either of them.
Near the pond, Mia stopped.
“Why did you burn her?”
Margaret froze.
Ethan said nothing.
The rules had allowed this because Mia started it.
Margaret looked at the doll.
“I was angry.”
“At me?”
“No.”
“At Daddy?”
“Yes.”
Mia considered that.
“So you burned my thing.”
Margaret swallowed.
“Yes.”
“That’s weird.”
A laugh escaped Ethan before he could stop it.
Margaret looked at him.
He covered his mouth.
“Sorry.”
Mia looked between them.
“You said it was because Mom was bad.”
Margaret’s face changed.
“I said things about your mother I should not have said.”
“Do you still think them?”
Ethan looked sharply at Margaret.
This was the question he had not prepared for.
Margaret took a long breath.
“Some.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
Margaret continued before he interrupted.
“But I was wrong to tell them to you.”
Mia frowned.
“That’s confusing.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t like Mom?”
Margaret looked toward the pond.
“I had problems with your mother.”
“She’s dead.”
“I know.”
“So you won.”
Margaret went completely still.
Ethan felt the words in his chest.
Mia had not said them cruelly.
That made them worse.
Margaret looked at her granddaughter.
“No,” she said.
Her voice broke slightly.
“No, Mia. I did not win.”
Mia hugged the doll closer.
They continued walking.
At thirty-eight minutes, Mia asked for ice cream.
Ethan said yes.
Margaret did not ask to extend the visit.
At forty-five minutes, she knelt in front of Mia.
“Thank you for seeing me.”
Mia nodded.
Margaret hesitated.
Then she stood without asking for a hug.
In the car, Ethan waited until they had left the parking lot.
“How was that?”
Mia looked out the window.
“Weird.”
“Good weird or bad weird?”
“Both.”
He smiled.
“That seems to be going around.”
In August, Derek called Ethan for the first time in months.
“Mom fell.”
Ethan stood from his desk.
“What happened?”
“She slipped in the kitchen.”
“Is she hurt?”
“Broken wrist. Maybe her hip. They’re checking.”
“Which hospital?”
Derek told him.
Ethan grabbed his keys.
Halfway to the elevator, he stopped.
For a moment he was angry at himself for going.
Then he was angry at himself for being angry.
Humans were inconvenient that way.
He went.
May you like
Margaret had fractured her wrist but not her hip.
When Ethan entered the emergency department, she was sitting upright in a hospital bed wearing a gown she clearly hated.
