Chương 8
Gloria had arrived with a technicality.
Ethan’s voice sharpened.
“Mom.”
“I’m not coming to the door.”
“You need to leave.”
“I just wanted five minutes.”
“No.”
“Ethan, please.”
“No.”
Gloria went quiet.
Through the window, they could see her lift a hand to her face.
Maya turned away.
She hated seeing it.
“I made a terrible mistake,” Gloria said.
Ethan looked at Maya.
Maya stared at the countertop.
“I know,” he said.
“I panicked.”
“I know.”
“I sent Claire the wrong part of the video.”
Ethan’s eyes changed.
“The wrong part?”
“I was trying to show her what happened.”
“You showed her a version that started after you grabbed Maya.”
“I didn’t think about where it started.”
“Mom.”
“I didn’t.”
“And it ended before you left her on the ground.”
Gloria started crying.
Quietly at first.
“I was ashamed.”
Ethan leaned against the wall.
“That’s not the same as being confused.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then leave.”
“Can I tell you one thing?”
“No.”
“Ethan.”
“No.”
Maya looked at him.
He ended the call.
Across the street, Gloria remained in the car.
One minute.
Two.
Then the engine started.
She drove away.
Ethan watched until she turned the corner.
Maya sat down.
Her legs felt weak.
“You okay?”
“No.”
He moved toward her.
She lifted a hand.
He stopped.
That was new too.
Not every comfort needed to be immediate.
Maya stared at the soggy cereal.
“She admitted cutting the clip.”
“Not exactly.”
Maya gave him a look.
He corrected himself.
“She admitted sending a clip she knew didn’t show everything.”
“Thank you.”
He sat opposite her.
“She said she was ashamed.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Yes.”
Maya looked surprised.
Ethan rubbed his palms together.
“I think shame is probably ninety percent of what she’s doing.”
“And the other ten?”
“Trying not to lose us.”
Maya pushed the bowl away.
“That makes sense.”
He looked at her.
“It doesn’t excuse it.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“I know.”
For once, neither of them needed to win the distinction.
Later that day, Ethan drove to Gloria’s house.
He did not tell Maya he was going until he had his keys in his hand.
She stared at him from the couch.
“Why?”
“Because I need to talk to her somewhere that isn’t here.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“I’m not asking you to come.”
“I wouldn’t.”
He nodded.
Maya watched him.
“What are you hoping she says?”
Ethan took too long.
“That she understands.”
“Understands what?”
“What she did.”
Maya’s expression softened in a way he did not deserve.
“She understands what she did.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
“Because she edited the story.”
Ethan looked down.
People did not hide what they could not see.
Gloria’s house smelled the same as it had when Ethan was seventeen: lemon furniture polish, laundry detergent, and something faintly sweet from a candle she no longer remembered lighting.
She opened the door before he knocked.
For half a second, her face brightened.
Then she saw his expression.
“Come in.”
He did.
The house was too tidy.
Raymond’s reading glasses still sat on the end table three years after his death. Gloria dusted around them.
Ethan had once found that touching.
Now he did not know what he felt.
Gloria led him to the kitchen.
“I made coffee.”
“I’m fine.”
“You always say that when you’re angry.”
“I’m not here for coffee.”
She folded her arms around herself.
Without makeup, she looked older than sixty-four.
Ethan immediately felt guilty.
That angered him.
He sat.
Gloria remained standing.
“How is Maya?”
“You don’t get updates unless she wants you to have them.”
Gloria’s mouth opened.
Then closed.
“All right.”
He had expected resistance.
Her agreement disarmed him.
He almost softened.
He noticed that too.
“Why did you leave?”
Gloria stared at him.
“After she fell.”
“I was scared.”
“So was she.”
“I know.”
“Why did you leave?”
“Maya told me to.”
“Since when do you do what Maya tells you?”
Gloria flinched.
Ethan hated the satisfaction that gave him.
He leaned back.
“Sorry.”
“No. You’re right.”
She sat across from him.
For a while, both of them looked at the table.
There was a small burn mark near the center from a Thanksgiving when Raymond had put down a hot pan without a trivet. Gloria had complained about it for ten years and refused to replace the table.
“I touched her first,” Gloria said.
Ethan waited.
“She was walking away. I grabbed her arm.”
“Why?”
“I wanted her to stop.”
“That’s not a reason to grab somebody.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She looked up sharply.
“Yes, Ethan.”
He nearly apologized for the question.
Did not.
Gloria rubbed her hands together.
“She said I wouldn’t be allowed alone with the baby.”
“She said you wouldn’t be alone with the baby if you kept ignoring boundaries.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No.”
“It felt the same.”
“There it is.”
Gloria frowned.
“What?”
“You keep telling me what things felt like as though that changes what you did.”
Her eyes filled.
Ethan looked away.
On the refrigerator, a photograph of Raymond held a fish beside a lake while Ethan and Claire, both teenagers, made disgusted faces in the background.
Gloria noticed where he was looking.
“Your father would hate this.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“Don’t.”
“I’m not trying to manipulate you.”
“You just brought Dad into an argument he can’t participate in.”
Gloria looked stunned.
Then wounded.
Then angry.
“Do you think I don’t know that?”
Ethan exhaled.
There she was.
Not the grieving widow.
Not the woman in the video.
His mother.
Complicated enough to be cruel and hurt at the same time.
“I don’t know how to talk to you anymore,” he said.
Gloria’s anger disappeared.
“That makes two of us.”
“You used to make me feel guilty when I didn’t call.”
“I was your mother. I missed you.”
May you like
“You told Claire she was the one Dad could count on.”
“That had nothing to do with you.”
