Chương 3
Daniel waited.
Emily had always liked that about him.
He could wait when he remembered to.
“She’s been saying things for months.”
His face changed.
“What things?”
“That Lucy doesn’t look like you.”
Daniel glanced down at the baby.
Lucy had his ears.
Emily had told him that the day she was born, mostly because his ears were one of the few things about himself Daniel openly disliked.
“She said the dates were interesting.”
“The dates?”
“When I got pregnant.”
Daniel stared.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The first time? Thanksgiving.”
“That was before Lucy was born.”
“I’m aware.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Emily looked up sharply.
Daniel stopped.
“Right,” he said.
Silence.
Then, more carefully, “Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”
Emily shifted Lucy against her arm.
“I could’ve.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
She looked toward the dining room.
The brass chandelier was on even though it was early afternoon. Margaret had switched it on when she arrived because she said the room looked gloomy.
Emily had not turned it off.
“Because every time there was something with your mother, you had an explanation before I finished telling you.”
Daniel opened his mouth.
Closed it.
“She doesn’t mean it like that,” Emily said. “She’s always been direct. She’s stressed. Dad’s death changed her. The company is all she has. She likes you, she just doesn’t know how to show it.”
Daniel sat down.
She looked at him.
“I sound awful.”
“You sound familiar.”
He lowered his eyes.
Lucy drank.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Daniel took the report again.
“This says Ridgeway Genomics.”
“I looked them up.”
“Are they real?”
“Yes.”
“Did you call?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because your mother told me you had done it privately and would deny it if I confronted you before you were ready.”
Daniel stared at the paper.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I know.”
“Emily.”
“I know.”
Her voice cracked.
She took a breath.
“I know that. Now.”
Daniel’s expression softened.
She hated that more than anger.
“I had slept maybe four hours in two days,” she said. “You had left before six. She walked in here with a lab report that had our daughter’s legal name on it and told me my husband was too humiliated to speak to me.”
Daniel leaned back.
“She said I was humiliated?”
“Yes.”
He looked down.
“That’s cruel.”
“Yeah.”
“No. I mean specifically cruel.”
Emily’s eyes lifted.
Daniel was looking at Lucy.
“My dad used to do that.”
“What?”
“When he was angry at someone, he’d tell Mom what they supposedly thought about her. Never what he thought. Always somebody else.”
Emily had met Daniel’s father only twice before he died.
Richard Mercer had been tall, charming, restless, and so good at remembering names that people mistook it for kindness.
Daniel rarely spoke about him.
“He’d say a board member thought she was too emotional,” Daniel continued. “Or a client wondered if she was getting forgetful. He’d make her defend herself against people who had never said anything.”
Emily watched him.
“And now she does it.”
Daniel folded the report once, carefully, along the crease already there.
“Apparently.”
Lucy finished the bottle.
Emily lifted her to her shoulder.
A burp came almost immediately.
Daniel gave the smallest smile.
“She has excellent timing.”
Despite herself, Emily almost smiled back.
Almost.
Then the front door opened again.
Daniel stood so quickly his stool scraped the floor.
Emily froze.
A second later he heard the electronic chime from the security panel.
The door had opened using a keypad code.
Margaret stepped into the dining room.
Daniel stared at her.
She held up one hand.
“I forgot my glasses.”
He did not move.
Margaret crossed to the end of the table, picked up a slim burgundy case, and tucked it into her handbag.
“Change the code,” Daniel said.
Margaret looked at him.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re not using it again.”
“Daniel.”
“I’m serious.”
Something in his tone finally reached her.
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
“You have a meeting at three.”
“Not anymore.”
“You cannot skip the Larkin review because your wife is upset.”
Emily felt heat rise in her face.
Daniel did not.
“My wife has a name.”
Margaret looked toward Emily.
“I am aware.”
Daniel walked to the security panel.
He entered the settings menu.
Margaret watched.
“You are going to inconvenience yourself over a gesture.”
“It’s not a gesture.”
“Then what is it?”
“A lock.”
For one absurd second, Emily wanted to laugh.
Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
Daniel changed the guest access code.
The panel beeped.
“Done,” he said.
Margaret stood very still.
“All right.”
She looked at Emily.
Then Lucy.
“I hope you enjoy being right.”
Emily said nothing.
Margaret left again.
This time Daniel waited until her car disappeared from the driveway before locking the deadbolt.
He remained by the door.
Emily could see his shoulders rise and fall once.
Then he said, “I need to call work.”
“You do.”
“I’m not going in.”
“You should.”
He turned.
“What?”
“If you stop showing up the day you start fighting with the chair of the company, she wins the first argument.”
Daniel stared at her.
Emily adjusted Lucy’s onesie.
“I don’t want you staying home because you think I need guarding.”
“That’s not—”
“I need you to take this seriously.”
“I am.”
“Then don’t make it dramatic. Make it difficult.”
Daniel’s brow furrowed.
She nodded toward the report.
“Find out where that came from.”
He looked at the paper.
Then at her.
“And you?”
“I’m going to put Lucy down for a nap.”
He hesitated.
It annoyed her.
“What?”
“I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’m not alone.”
She looked at their daughter.
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
“Right.”
“And change your mother’s access to the garage.”
He nodded.
“I forgot about the garage.”
“So did I.”
He took out his phone.
May you like
This time there was no recording waveform.
Just a man standing in a kitchen, trying to figure out what to do next.
