Chương 14
“I’ll teach you how to get away from someone grabbing you.”
Lily brightened.
“And how to fall safely.”
“Okay.”
“And then we’ll find an actual instructor who teaches kids.”
“You could teach me.”
“I could.”
“Then why not?”
Sarah looked toward the dark window.
Because she did not want Lily learning violence through the version of Sarah she had tried to bury.
Because maybe that was shame again.
Reeves’s voice returned.
I wouldn’t let shame make the decision.
Sarah rubbed her thumb against the table edge.
“Because being your mother and being your instructor at the same time sounds terrible.”
Lily laughed.
“Fair.”
They found a martial arts school with a quiet instructor named Denise who spent more time teaching students how to leave bad situations than how to win them.
Sarah liked her immediately.
Lily hated the first class.
“I barely learned anything.”
“You learned how to stand.”
“I already know how to stand.”
“Not very well, apparently.”
“Mom.”
By the fourth class, Lily stopped complaining.
By the sixth, Sarah sat in the lobby reading emails while Lily practiced breakfalls on blue mats.
Life kept moving.
Rachel filed for temporary separation from Ethan.
Not divorce.
Not yet.
Ethan moved out of Warren’s house and into an apartment after three weeks, which Rachel interpreted as progress and Sarah interpreted as real estate.
They disagreed without fighting.
That was progress of another kind.
Warren did not call Sarah.
He sent Lily a birthday card two months early because he had apparently lost track of the date.
Inside was fifty dollars.
Lily stared at it.
“What do I do?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Can I keep the money and still be mad at him?”
“Yes.”
“That seems convenient.”
“It is.”
She bought new soccer cleats.
Marcus’s gym survived.
Barely.
The other partners bought out part of his ownership and removed him from daily management for a period Sarah never learned precisely.
He began coaching fewer adult clients and more youth strength classes.
Rachel said he was surprisingly good with teenagers.
Sarah did not know what to do with that information, so she left it alone.
People were rarely one thing.
That did not erase what they had done.
It did make hatred less efficient.
Four months after the barbecue, Sarah received a letter through her attorney.
Marcus had reached a legal resolution with the county.
The details were less dramatic than social media had predicted and more consequential than Warren had wanted.
There would be supervision.
Required counseling.
Restrictions on contact.
No jail unless he violated conditions.
Sarah read the summary twice.
Then she put it in a drawer.
She did not feel victorious.
She felt tired.
That evening Rachel called.
“Dad says you ruined Marcus’s life.”
Sarah was chopping onions.
“Good evening to you too.”
“I told him Marcus ruined Marcus’s life.”
“How’d that go?”
“He hung up.”
“Progress.”
Rachel laughed.
Then she became quiet.
“Dad wants Thanksgiving.”
Sarah stopped chopping.
“No.”
“You answered fast.”
“Yes.”
“At his house.”
“No.”
“He wants everyone there.”
“That makes it worse.”
“He says he’ll apologize.”
Sarah stared at the onion.
“To whom?”
“You.”
“No.”
“Lily.”
The knife stopped.
Rachel waited.
Sarah said, “Did he say what for?”
“Not specifically.”
“Then no.”
“I thought you’d say that.”
“Why ask?”
“Because I want Thanksgiving.”
Sarah set down the knife.
“With Warren?”
“With everybody.”
“That may not be available.”
“I know.”
Sarah heard the sadness in her sister’s voice.
Not manipulation.
Grief.
“Come here,” Sarah said.
Rachel was silent.
“What?”
“You and the kids. Come here.”
“Your house seats six.”
“We’ll use folding chairs.”
“You hate hosting.”
“I hate your cooking more.”
Rachel gasped theatrically.
“My turkey is excellent.”
“Your turkey is dry enough to file taxes.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
Rachel laughed.
They planned Thanksgiving.
Ben flew in because Lily asked.
He brought his girlfriend, Maya, after Sarah explicitly said she was welcome.
Rachel came with her two children.
Ethan did not.
Warren was not invited.
Marcus was not invited.
The table did seat six.
There were eight people.
Two folding chairs came from the garage.
Ben burned the rolls.
Rachel’s turkey was, in fact, dry.
Maya brought cranberry sauce containing orange peel, which Lily declared “aggressively fancy.”
For three hours nobody discussed the barbecue.
Then Rachel’s daughter Grace asked, “Aunt Sarah, can you really kill someone with a paper clip?”
Ben choked on wine.
Sarah closed her eyes.
“Where did you hear that?”
“School.”
“No.”
“With a pen?”
“No.”
“Chopstick?”
“Grace,” Rachel said.
“What? I’m asking.”
Lily looked at her cousin with the weary superiority of a child who had already completed this stage of investigation.
“She doesn’t answer tactical questions.”
Everyone looked at Lily.
Sarah stared.
Lily smiled innocently.
Ben laughed so hard he had to leave the table.
The evening survived.
After dinner, Sarah and Rachel washed dishes while the kids argued over a board game.
Rachel handed her a plate.
“This is weird.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
Sarah rinsed the plate.
“Good weird?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Fair.”
Rachel looked toward the dining room.
“I miss Ethan.”
“I know.”
“I’m still angry.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
Sarah smiled.
Rachel bumped her shoulder.
For a minute they washed dishes the way they had as teenagers, Rachel cleaning badly and Sarah correcting her until Rachel deliberately splashed water on her shirt.
Sarah flicked water back.
Lily appeared in the doorway.
“Are you fighting?”
“Yes,” Rachel said.
“No,” Sarah said simultaneously.
Lily nodded.
“Family.”
Then she left.
Rachel looked at Sarah.
“That kid is terrifying.”
“Genetics.”
Winter passed.
The video became something strangers occasionally recognized Sarah from rather than the event organizing every day.
Once, at a grocery store, a man near the frozen vegetables stared at her for nearly a minute before saying, “Hey, aren’t you—”
“No.”
He blinked.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
Sarah picked up peas.
“I’m comfortable with the odds.”
May you like
He laughed and left her alone.
Another time a woman approached Sarah in a parking lot and whispered, “My ex used to scare me like that.”
