Chương 4
“Before you were born,” Rachel said, “Dad and I had a time when we weren’t together.”
“Like divorced?”
“We weren’t married yet.”
“Oh.”
“During that time I went out with somebody else.”
Daniel’s jaw moved slightly.
Even after seven years, the sentence had weight.
Ethan looked between them.
“Who?”
“His name was Luke.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
This was true. Rachel had not spoken to Luke Mercer since the month before she learned she was pregnant.
“Did he die?”
“No.”
“Then how do you not know?”
Daniel rubbed his eyebrow.
Rachel almost smiled.
“Adults lose touch with people.”
“Why?”
“A lot of reasons.”
“Did you lose his phone number?”
“Something like that.”
Ethan accepted this far more easily than the adults had accepted any part of the actual situation.
Daniel continued.
“When Mom found out she was going to have you, there was a possibility that I wasn’t the person whose body instructions helped make you.”
“But you were.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
Daniel hesitated.
Rachel answered.
“There’s a medical test that can tell.”
“Did the doctor do it?”
“Not exactly.”
Daniel looked at her.
She held his gaze.
They had also agreed not to lie about this.
“When you were three,” Daniel said, “I did the test.”
“Why?”
Daniel took a breath.
“Because I was worried, and instead of handling that worry very well, I decided I needed an answer.”
“Did Mom know?”
“No.”
Ethan stopped chewing.
Rachel had not expected that to matter to him.
“You did it secret?”
“Yes.”
“That’s bad.”
Daniel gave a humorless smile.
“Yeah. It was.”
“Did Mom get mad?”
“Very.”
“How mad?”
Rachel said, “Eat your cereal.”
Ethan looked delighted.
“You got super mad.”
“I got appropriately mad.”
Daniel coughed into his hand.
Rachel looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You laughed.”
“No.”
Ethan laughed.
For ten seconds, absurdly, they were a family at breakfast.
Then Ethan asked, “Why did Grandma care?”
Neither adult answered immediately.
Daniel finally said, “Grandma has some ideas about family that aren’t good ideas.”
“Does she not like me?”
Rachel hated the speed with which children found the center.
“She loves you,” Daniel said.
Rachel looked at him.
Daniel noticed.
“What?”
She chose her words carefully.
“I think Grandma has feelings for Ethan. But love isn’t a word adults should use to excuse whatever they do.”
Daniel’s face tightened, but he nodded.
Ethan pushed a cereal loop around his bowl.
“Do I have to see her?”
“No,” Rachel said.
Daniel answered at the same time.
“Not right now.”
Ethan looked between them.
Rachel said, “You don’t have to see her until we figure this out and you feel safe.”
“I was safe.”
“You’re right. Wrong word.”
“I just don’t like her.”
“That’s okay too.”
“Can I watch cartoons?”
It was 7:42 on Sunday morning.
Rachel said, “After you put your bowl in the sink.”
Ethan carried it to the sink with both hands.
Milk sloshed over the edge.
He did not notice.
After he ran into the living room, Daniel grabbed a dish towel.
“You think she loves him?”
Rachel watched him wipe the floor.
“I think she believes she does.”
“That sounded like a lawyer answer.”
“I’m married to a project manager.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“I’m tired.”
Daniel tossed the towel onto the counter.
“So am I.”
Their phones had been buzzing since seven.
Rachel had ignored hers.
Daniel had looked at his twice and turned it facedown.
“Melissa?” Rachel asked.
“And Mark. And my aunt.”
“Already?”
“My mother called people.”
Rachel stared at him.
“Of course she did.”
“She told Joan you attacked her.”
“I did hit her.”
“She left out the rest.”
“People usually do.”
Daniel picked up his phone.
“Do you want to know what Joan said?”
“No.”
“She said, ‘I don’t condone violence, but Helen has needed someone to tell her to shut up since 1998.’”
Rachel laughed before she could stop herself.
Daniel smiled.
Then they both looked toward the living room, where animated animals were shouting happily about a missing backpack.
Rachel’s smile faded.
“She said it around him before.”
“I know.”
“He told me Grandma is mean other days too.”
Daniel put his phone down.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know yet.”
His shoulders stiffened.
“Should we ask him?”
“Not like an interrogation.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
Daniel gave her a look.
“Sorry.”
“Rach, I’m not the enemy here.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She stared at him, and this time he was the one who looked away.
The next call Rachel answered was from Melissa.
It came just after noon.
Rachel was in the laundry room pairing Ethan’s socks. She had found three without matches and was holding one with tiny green dinosaurs when Melissa’s name appeared.
She considered letting it ring out.
Then she answered.
“Hi.”
Melissa exhaled.
“I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“Fair.”
Rachel set the sock on the dryer.
For several seconds, neither woman spoke.
Then Melissa said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what part?”
There was a pause.
“That is also fair.”
Rachel leaned against the machine.
“I need specifics today, Melissa.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what Mom was saying.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“Okay.”
“I told myself it was just Mom being Mom.”
“I hate that sentence.”
“I do too, right now.”
“What did she say?”
Melissa was silent long enough that Rachel heard a cabinet close on the other end.
“I want the truth.”
“I know.”
“Even if it’s ugly.”
“It is.”
Rachel waited.
Melissa said, “She’s called him the question mark.”
Rachel did not understand at first.
“What?”
“Not to his face.”
“That is not helping.”
“I know.”
“The question mark?”
“Like—” Melissa stopped. “God, saying it out loud makes it sound worse.”
“It was already worse.”
“She’d say things like, ‘Daniel’s little question mark.’ Or if someone said Ethan looked like Dad, she’d say, ‘Wishful thinking.’”
Rachel sat on the closed dryer.
The room hummed.
May you like
“Who heard this?”
“Me. Mark. Aunt Joan at least once. I think Cousin Peter.”
