Chương 7
She hated that most of all.
“We find out what’s true.”
The next morning, Noah ate cereal and asked if school was still happening.
Emily had forgotten it was Tuesday.
“Of course.”
“Even though we have family trouble?”
“Especially because we have family trouble.”
He thought about that.
“Adults make weird rules.”
Daniel put a banana beside his bowl.
“Correct.”
Noah looked at him.
“Are you still my dad?”
Daniel set the fruit down.
“Yes.”
“Even if the other guy is alive?”
Daniel’s mouth tightened.
“Yes.”
“Can you stop saying it like you’re mad?”
Emily looked at him.
Daniel sat beside Noah.
“I’m not mad at you.”
“You sound mad.”
“I’m scared.”
Noah blinked.
Emily did too.
Daniel rarely admitted fear without disguising it as irritation.
Noah moved his spoon through the milk.
“Of what?”
Daniel glanced at Emily.
She said nothing.
He returned his attention to Noah.
“That things might change.”
“Do you hate changing things?”
“Mostly.”
“You changed the couch.”
“That was your mother.”
“You agreed.”
“Under pressure.”
Noah smiled slightly.
Daniel did too.
Then Noah asked, “Will I meet Michael?”
Nobody answered quickly.
Noah looked from one parent to the other.
Emily said, “Maybe.”
Daniel inhaled.
She continued.
“But not because anybody else decides. Not Grandma. Not Michael. Not me alone. Not Dad alone. We’ll figure it out carefully.”
“Do I get to decide?”
“You get a voice.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we listen to what you want, but you don’t have to make grown-up decisions by yourself.”
Noah nodded.
“Okay.”
Then he ate his cereal.
Emily drove him to school.
She watched him walk through the doors wearing his backpack too low on his shoulders.
He turned once and waved.
She waved back.
Then she sat in the car for fifteen minutes.
At work, she made three mistakes before ten.
Emily was an operations manager for a regional medical supply company, a job requiring her to notice details before they became expensive. She sent an outdated inventory sheet to purchasing. She scheduled two drivers for the same route. She called a colleague by the wrong name.
Her supervisor, Jenna, finally closed Emily’s office door.
“You sick?”
“No.”
“Family?”
Emily looked at her computer.
“Yes.”
“Bad?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Jenna nodded.
“Go home.”
“I’m fine.”
“You just tried to ship orthopedic braces to our accounting firm.”
Emily looked at the screen.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Emily laughed despite herself.
It came out shaky.
Jenna leaned against the door.
“Go.”
Emily left.
Instead of going home, she drove to Margaret’s house.
Her mother opened the door before Emily knocked.
“You saw my car.”
“Yes.”
“Convenient.”
Margaret stepped aside.
The house smelled like coffee and furniture polish.
Emily had spent half her childhood in that smell.
Margaret walked to the kitchen.
“I made coffee.”
“I don’t want coffee.”
“You always want coffee.”
“Today is exciting.”
Margaret poured herself a cup.
Emily placed copies of Michael’s letter on the table.
“I opened it.”
Margaret stared.
“I see.”
“You lied about the arrest.”
Margaret sat.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you would have gone looking for him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I knew you.”
“You knew the version of me you preferred.”
Margaret flinched.
Emily sat across from her.
“What happened?”
Margaret wrapped both hands around her mug.
“Michael came back before Noah was born.”
“I know.”
“He wanted to see you.”
“I know.”
“I told him no.”
“Why?”
“Because you had finally stopped waiting for him.”
Emily stared.
Margaret continued.
“You checked your phone constantly. You cried in my laundry room because you didn’t want me to see. You were pregnant and terrified and pretending you weren’t. Then, after three months, you stopped asking whether he had called.”
“So you decided I had healed.”
“No. I decided you had begun.”
“That wasn’t yours to protect.”
“I know that now.”
“No, you knew it then.”
Margaret’s expression hardened.
“Fine. I knew.”
The honesty surprised Emily.
“I knew I was making a decision that belonged to you. I did it anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because your father ruined years of our lives by coming back every time we learned how to live without him.”
Emily’s anger paused.
Margaret looked toward the window.
“Every time Robert returned, you believed him. Every time he left again, I watched you become twelve years old all over.”
“This wasn’t Dad.”
“I know.”
“You treated Michael like Dad.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid I would watch the same thing happen to Noah.”
Emily folded her arms.
“So instead you became the person making decisions behind everyone’s back.”
Margaret looked down.
“Yes.”
“Did Michael ever relapse?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Was he ever arrested after Noah was born?”
“No.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did he threaten me?”
“No.”
“Did he ever demand money?”
“No.”
“Custody?”
“He asked about his rights once.”
Emily leaned forward.
“And?”
“I told him if he pursued them, I would tell you he was using again.”
Emily felt the air leave her lungs.
“You blackmailed him.”
Margaret’s face tightened.
“I frightened him.”
“With a lie.”
“Yes.”
Emily stood.
Margaret did not look up.
“How could you do that?”
“I thought stability mattered more than fairness.”
“To whom?”
“To Noah.”
“You did not know what was best for Noah.”
“No.”
“You did not even let me decide.”
“No.”
Emily walked toward the hallway.
Margaret said, “There’s more.”
Emily stopped.
Of course there was.
She turned.
Margaret stared at the coffee.
“When Daniel began the adoption process, Michael contacted me again.”
Emily returned to the table.
“What did you tell him?”
“That you were getting married and Daniel wanted to adopt Noah.”
“And?”
“He asked whether you were happy.”
Emily swallowed.
“What did you say?”
“Yes.”
Margaret’s voice broke on the word.
“He asked if Daniel was good to Noah. I said yes.”
“And then?”
“He said he wouldn’t interfere.”
Emily waited.
Margaret rubbed the handle of the mug.
“But he asked me to give you the letter.”
May you like
Emily stared at her.
“The letter was for me?”
