Chương 7
Mia opened the refrigerator.
“Who?”
“Everyone.”
“That's convenient.”
Daniel looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means 'everyone' is easier than naming the people you care about.”
He leaned back.
“Fine. Noah might.”
“That's different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Mia found orange juice.
Daniel said, “I should've seen it.”
Mia poured a glass.
“What?”
“Her.”
“You married her.”
“Thank you.”
“You asked.”
“I did not.”
“You were going to.”
He rubbed his face.
“She wasn't always like this.”
Mia drank the juice.
“No one ever is.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You think I'm making excuses.”
“I think people like to remember monsters backward. Makes everybody feel smarter.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means once somebody does something terrible, everyone says the signs were obvious. Usually they weren't.”
Daniel stared at the table.
“Some were.”
“Okay.”
“I ignored them.”
“Probably.”
He gave her an irritated look.
“Do you ever comfort anyone?”
“Not professionally.”
Daniel almost smiled.
Then he said, “She hated being embarrassed.”
Mia waited.
“She could forgive almost anything if nobody saw it happen. If somebody saw...” He rubbed his thumb along the edge of the plate. “She'd keep working at it until the other person looked wrong.”
“Noah saw her grab him.”
“Yes.”
“And he told her he was going to tell you.”
Daniel nodded.
Mia sat across from him.
“Why was she afraid of that?”
Daniel looked toward the ceiling.
“Because I told her if she ever scared him again, we were done.”
Mia stopped.
“Again?”
Daniel's shoulders dropped.
There it was.
He had been waiting for the word.
Mia said, “What happened before?”
“Nothing like this.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“She lost her temper.”
“With Noah?”
“Yes.”
“What did she do?”
“Grabbed his arm too hard. He had marks.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“And you stayed?”
Daniel looked at her.
Mia did not soften the question.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His answer took time.
“Because she apologized. Because Noah said he was okay. Because I wanted him to be okay. Because she started therapy. Because I loved her. Because divorce would have been ugly. Because I travel too much. Because I thought one bad moment was one bad moment.”
He looked down.
“And because I didn't want my second marriage to fail.”
That last answer sounded closest to the truth.
Mia nodded.
Daniel's voice hardened.
“You think I'm pathetic.”
“I think you were selfish.”
He met her eyes.
“That isn't better.”
“No.”
Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.
Daniel whispered, “I buried a box because I believed her.”
“You buried a box because your son was missing for eleven days.”
“I stopped the lake search.”
Mia had not known that.
Daniel saw.
“The private crews. I stopped them after eight days.”
“Why?”
“Search coordinator said the conditions—” He stopped. “It doesn't matter.”
“It does.”
“I couldn't keep sending divers down there.”
“Because?”
Daniel pressed both hands against his forehead.
“Because every time they came back up without him, I died again.”
Mia looked away.
There were moments when blame stopped being useful even if it remained deserved.
Daniel said, “Vivian told me continuing was cruel.”
“To who?”
“Me.”
Mia exhaled.
“And you believed that too.”
“Yes.”
The therapist came downstairs ten minutes later.
Noah was tired.
He asked for cereal for dinner.
Daniel let him have it.
That night, after Mia left, Daniel texted her.
I told Ortiz about the arm incident.
Mia stared at the message.
He sent another.
I should have told them sooner.
She typed several answers.
Deleted all of them.
Finally:
Yes.
Months passed.
Mia got another job.
Not in a mansion.
A boutique hotel near Dupont Circle hired her as a housekeeping supervisor after someone there saw the gala video and, unlike Janice, decided public attention was not contagious.
The pay was slightly better.
The commute was worse.
Life resumed in rude little pieces.
Train delays.
Laundry.
A dentist bill.
Simone borrowing twenty dollars and forgetting to return it.
Mia buying a plant for her kitchen window and almost killing it within a week.
People occasionally recognized her.
Usually in grocery stores.
“Are you the maid?”
Mia learned to say, “I'm a person who works in hospitality.”
Some understood the correction.
Some did not.
Noah started school again in January.
Not his old school.
The family chose a smaller one.
For the first two weeks, he would not enter any classroom with a closed door.
The school accommodated him.
A month later, he closed one himself because children in the hallway were being loud during a math test.
Daniel called Mia afterward.
“He shut a door.”
Mia was at work inspecting a bathroom someone had somehow covered in blue toothpaste.
“Congratulations?”
“You don't understand.”
“No, I do.”
Daniel was quiet.
“It felt huge.”
“Then tell him.”
“I don't want to make it a thing.”
“Good instinct.”
“What do I say?”
Mia sighed.
“Daniel, I cannot raise you both.”
He laughed.
She heard Noah in the background.
“Is that Mia?”
Daniel handed him the phone.
“I closed the door.”
“I heard.”
“For a test.”
“Very brave of mathematics.”
“It was fractions.”
“Even worse.”
Noah laughed.
Then he said, “I took off the bracelet.”
Mia stopped wiping toothpaste.
“You did?”
“Yesterday.”
“How'd that feel?”
“Normal.”
“Normal's good.”
“I put it in a drawer.”
“Okay.”
“I didn't throw it away.”
“You don't have to.”
“I might.”
“You don't have to do that either.”
He was quiet.
“Vivian has court next month.”
Mia leaned against the sink.
“I know.”
“Do I have to see her?”
“No.”
“Dad says no too.”
“Then why are you asking me?”
“Because Dad lies sometimes.”
The sentence hurt more because Noah said it casually.
Mia chose her words.
“Your dad has lied.”
“Yes.”
“That doesn't mean he's lying now.”
“How do you know?”
“I don't.”
Noah sighed.
“You always say that.”
“It's one of my better qualities.”
He thought about it.
“Okay.”
Vivian's case did not end with a dramatic trial.
There were hearings.
Motions.
May you like
Lawyers walking into buildings with neutral expressions.
Arguments about which statements Noah could be required to repeat, which evidence was admissible, which records had been lawfully obtained, and whether media coverage had contaminated potential jurors.
