Chương 6
Owen noticed.
“Is it work?”
“Probably.”
“Don’t you have to answer?”
“Not right now.”
“You always say that, then you answer.”
Daniel took out the phone and switched it off.
Owen watched the dark screen.
“There,” Daniel said.
“What if it’s important?”
“This is important.”
The boy looked down at the castle. “Okay.”
Daniel heard the guest-suite door open in the rear corridor.
Claire appeared at the edge of the room. She had removed her heels and carried them by the straps. Without the extra height, she looked smaller, though nothing about her posture invited comfort.
“I need my medication,” she said.
Daniel stood. “Where is it?”
“Bathroom cabinet.”
“I’ll get it.”
“You don’t know which bottle.”
“Then we’ll go together.”
She looked at the children, then at the half-sorted toys. “You’re letting them keep playing.”
“We’re finishing the castle before moving it.”
“Of course.”
Owen’s shoulders rose.
Daniel said, “Don’t.”
“I said two words.”
“You said them for the children to hear.”
Claire’s bare toes curled against the marble. Her toenail polish was pale pink, chipped at one corner. The small imperfection made the entire morning feel stranger. Daniel had watched her paint those nails on the terrace two nights earlier while she told him they needed to discuss summer plans. He had answered emails and said, “Absolutely,” without knowing what he was agreeing to.
“Come upstairs,” she said. “I’ll show you the bottle.”
Daniel turned to the children. “Stay together. I’ll be where you can call me.”
Owen said, “Can we come?”
Claire’s mouth tightened.
Daniel nodded. “Yes.”
All four of them climbed the curved staircase.
Claire walked ahead carrying her shoes. Daniel followed with the children between him and the railing. The upper hall overlooked the foyer, including the console and the glass of water Claire had left there. Through the narrow panel beside the front door, the wooden hanger remained visible across the planter.
Lily saw it and looked away.
The primary bedroom occupied the east side of the house. Claire entered first, then stopped when Daniel kept the door open.
“I need to change,” she said.
“I’ll wait outside with them.”
“I’m not changing with an audience.”
“No one said you were.”
“You’re standing there as if I need permission.”
Daniel leaned against the doorframe. “Get your medication and whatever clothes you need. We’ll stay in the hall.”
Claire went into the bathroom.
The children sat on a bench beneath a window. Owen looked toward the bedroom, where the bed had been made so tightly that the navy coverlet showed no crease. Daniel’s side table held a charging cable, two receipts, and a book he had been carrying between airports for three months without finishing. Claire’s side held a white ceramic dish containing her wedding ring.
Daniel stared at it.
She usually removed the ring before showering and put it back on immediately. The bathroom faucet ran. A drawer opened and closed.
Owen followed his gaze. “Is that because she’s mad?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re still wearing yours.”
Daniel slipped his thumb beneath the silver band on his finger. “Yes.”
“Does that mean you’re not mad?”
“No.”
Owen seemed dissatisfied with the uselessness of adult symbols.
Claire returned carrying a prescription bottle, a soft gray sweater, black trousers, and a small toiletry bag. Her eyes moved from Daniel to the ring dish. She did not pick it up.
“I’m going to change now,” she said.
“We’ll be downstairs.”
“Daniel.”
He waited.
“I want ten minutes with you.”
“Not behind a closed door.”
“I am not going to attack you.”
“This isn’t about me being afraid of you.”
“Then stop treating me like a criminal.”
He glanced at the children. “We’ll talk in the kitchen. They can be in the family room.”
“They’ll hear everything.”
“They already hear more than we think.”
Claire looked at Owen.
He held her gaze for a moment, then lowered his eyes.
She took her clothes into the bathroom and closed the door.
Daniel led the children downstairs. Lily carried the rabbit against her cheek. Halfway down, she asked, “Was Claire always mean?”
Daniel stopped on the step.
“No.”
“Then why now?”
He looked over the railing at the formal room below.
“People can be kind sometimes and harmful other times,” he said. “One doesn’t erase the other.”
“Was she kind when you married her?”
“Yes.”
“Did she like us?”
“I believed she did.”
Owen said, “That means you don’t know.”
Daniel continued down the stairs. “I think she wanted to.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
They returned to the family room. Daniel moved the castle to the coffee table and set the toy bins against the shelves. The children sat together on the sectional. Lily placed the rabbit upright between them like a small witness.
“When Claire comes down, I’m going to talk to her in the kitchen,” Daniel said. “You’ll be able to see us through the doorway.”
“Can she stay here if she says sorry?” Lily asked.
“That’s not a decision we’re making today.”
“Why?”
“Because big decisions shouldn’t be made just to stop uncomfortable feelings.”
Owen looked toward the hall. “She’ll make you feel bad.”
Daniel gave him a tired smile. “She might.”
“Then you’ll forgive her.”
“Forgiveness and safety aren’t the same thing.”
Owen picked up a plastic wheel from the sofa cushion. “You say things like that at work?”
“Probably.”
“They sound like work things.”
“They might be.”
The boy tossed the wheel into the correct bin.
Claire came down wearing the gray sweater and black trousers. Her face had been washed clean of makeup, leaving faint shadows beneath her eyes. She no longer looked like the elegant woman from the foyer. She looked like someone who had been awake inside her own anger for a long time.
Daniel gestured toward the kitchen.
May you like
They sat at opposite ends of the island. The children remained visible in the family room, close enough to call out but far enough that Daniel could lower his voice.
Claire placed the prescription bottle beside her hand.
