Chương 10
It was the first time she had laughed with him since he packed a suitcase.
His apartment was twelve minutes from the house.
He chose it because the second bedroom faced a courtyard rather than the parking lot.
Maya stayed there every other weekend once Rachel was comfortable with the arrangement.
The first night she refused to sleep because the refrigerator hummed differently from the one at home.
Ethan lay beside her on the rug until midnight.
At 12:17 she asked, “Did Sophie ever sleep here?”
“No.”
“Can she?”
“Maybe someday.”
“Ask Dana.”
“I will.”
“And Mom.”
“Yes.”
Maya rolled over.
“You ask everybody now.”
He stared at the ceiling.
“Yes.”
She fell asleep.
Rachel began therapy.
She did not tell Ethan.
Then she realized secrecy used as punishment was still secrecy and told him during a scheduling conversation about Maya.
He said, “I’m glad.”
She nearly hung up.
Instead she said, “Do you see how annoying that sounds?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Her therapist was named Dr. Kim and had no patience for Rachel’s wish to reduce the marriage to a single moral verdict.
“You’re allowed to leave him,” Dr. Kim said.
“I know.”
“You’re allowed to stay.”
“That sounds harder to admit.”
“Why?”
“Because everybody understands leaving.”
“Who is everybody?”
Rachel looked out the window.
There was a dentist’s office across the parking lot.
A woman in scrubs stood beside a car eating crackers from a vending machine package.
“My friends.”
“Have you told them?”
“No.”
“Then everybody currently consists of you.”
Rachel disliked her immediately.
Which was why she returned.
Ethan began therapy too after Dana told him he was “using logistics as a personality.”
His therapist was a man named Marcus who asked Ethan what he felt so often that Ethan considered it hostile.
“What do you feel when Sophie calls you Ethan?”
“Appropriate.”
“That’s an evaluation.”
“It’s accurate.”
“What do you feel?”
Ethan stared at a bookshelf.
“Disappointed.”
“Anything else?”
“Relieved.”
“Why?”
“Because I haven’t earned Dad.”
Marcus waited.
Ethan hated silence professionally used against him.
“Fine,” he said. “And ashamed.”
“Of?”
“That I’m relieved.”
“Because?”
“Because if she calls me Ethan, I can pretend the distance is partly her choice.”
That session ruined his entire Tuesday.
Summer arrived.
Sophie finished first grade.
Maya finished first grade three days later.
Dana decided to sell Leah’s townhouse because the mortgage and maintenance were impractical on her salary, and because living there left both her and Sophie suspended inside someone else’s life.
Sophie responded by refusing to pack anything.
Dana called Ethan.
He drove down.
The bedroom floor was covered in open boxes.
Sophie sat inside the closet with Milton.
“No.”
Ethan sat outside the closet.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re going to.”
“Probably.”
“No.”
“Okay.”
They sat.
After a while Ethan picked up a tiny sock from the floor.
“Is this yours?”
“No.”
“It’s extremely small.”
“It’s for a doll.”
“That explains it.”
He placed it in a box labeled TOYS.
Sophie glared.
“Not that box.”
“Sorry.”
She crawled out, retrieved the sock, and put it in another box labeled IMPORTANT.
Ethan did not comment.
He began folding clothes.
His folding was terrible.
Sophie watched for several minutes.
“You’re doing it wrong.”
“I’ve been told.”
“My mom folded shirts like this.”
She demonstrated.
He copied her.
“No.”
He tried again.
“No.”
By the fourth shirt she sighed with the exhaustion of someone training an incompetent employee.
“Maybe you should do books.”
He moved to books.
An hour later Sophie handed him a framed photograph.
Leah stood beside a fountain holding baby Sophie.
Ethan had seen the picture before.
Leah emailed it when Sophie was six months old.
He remembered staring at it at his office desk while Rachel texted asking him to pick up diapers for Maya.
He had deleted the email.
Not because he did not want the photograph.
Because he wanted it too much.
“Do you want this?” Sophie asked.
His chest tightened.
“It belongs to you.”
“I have lots.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“I want you to have one.”
He looked at her.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
He accepted it.
“Thank you.”
Sophie returned to the closet.
Ethan sat on the floor holding the photograph until Dana walked in.
She saw it.
Her expression softened.
“She gave you that?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t make it sentimental.”
He wiped his eyes.
“Go away.”
Dana smiled and left.
Rachel learned about the photograph from Maya.
“Dad has a picture of Sophie’s mom.”
Rachel was brushing Maya’s hair.
Her hand stopped.
“Does he?”
“Sophie gave it to him.”
Rachel resumed brushing.
“Okay.”
“Do you care?”
Children also had a talent for stepping directly on bruises.
Rachel set the brush down.
“A little.”
“Why?”
“Because feelings can be messy.”
“Do you hate Sophie’s mom?”
“No.”
“Do you hate Dad?”
Rachel looked at their reflections in the mirror.
“Sometimes.”
Maya’s eyes widened.
Rachel almost took it back.
Instead she said, “You can be very angry at someone and still care about them.”
“That’s weird.”
“Yes.”
“Do you love him?”
Rachel looked at herself.
“I do.”
Maya smiled immediately.
Rachel touched her shoulder.
“That doesn’t tell us what happens next.”
The smile faded.
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not your job to make me feel better.”
Maya nodded, though Rachel suspected she would need to hear that many times.
In August, Sophie spent her first night at Ethan’s apartment.
Dana slept on the couch.
Maya insisted on sharing the second bedroom despite there being only one bed.
They built a nest of blankets on the floor.
At eleven Ethan found both girls awake, whispering.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Maya said.
Sophie giggled.
“That is rarely true.”
Maya pulled the blanket over her face.
Ethan turned off the hallway light.
Then Sophie said, “Ethan?”
“Yes?”
“Can you leave the door open?”
“Of course.”
He did.
At three in the morning he woke to find Sophie standing beside his bed.
May you like
Milton hung from one hand.
Her face looked gray in the dim light.
