Chương 8
“It wasn’t like that.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Okay.”
Vanessa put the menu down.
“I did not buy the house to humiliate him.”
Theo drank his beer.
“I didn’t say you did.”
“You’re thinking it.”
“I’m thinking you spent years telling me Adrian wasn’t controlling while apparently preparing a private real-estate coup.”
“It was not a coup.”
“I teach teenagers. I use dramatic words to stay awake.”
Vanessa smiled despite herself.
Theo’s expression softened.
“Are you okay?”
She looked at the table.
“No.”
“Good.”
She frowned.
“That came out wrong.”
“Yes.”
“I mean, I would be worried if you were fine.”
The waiter arrived.
They ordered.
After he left, Theo folded the paper wrapper from his straw into increasingly smaller rectangles.
“I was a bad brother,” he said.
Vanessa looked up.
“No.”
“I stopped saying things because you got mad.”
“That’s reasonable.”
“I also liked being able to blame him for you not calling.”
Vanessa stared at him.
Theo looked embarrassed.
“That’s ugly.”
“A little.”
“I told you.”
She reached across and took the folded wrapper from him.
“You were also right about some things.”
“I know.”
“Don’t enjoy it.”
“Too late.”
They sat quietly.
Then Theo said, “What are you going to do with the house?”
Vanessa rolled the wrapper between her fingers.
“I don’t know.”
“Live there?”
“No.”
“Sell it?”
“Maybe.”
“Burn it down?”
“Theo.”
“I teach teenagers.”
Dinner lasted two hours.
They talked about the divorce for twenty minutes and Theo’s terrible department chair for forty-five.
On the walk back to her car, Vanessa realized it was the first evening in months during which she had forgotten to check whether Adrian had texted.
He had.
Three times.
The third message contained a photograph of the pink suitcase.
He had repaired the wheel.
Vanessa stood beside her car in the rain.
The message beneath it said:
You didn’t have to make us enemies.
She stared at the photograph for a long time.
Then she put the phone away.
Two weeks later, Eleanor asked to meet.
Mara advised against meeting alone.
Vanessa suggested Mara’s office.
Eleanor refused.
They compromised on a private room at a hotel restaurant.
Eleanor arrived seven minutes early.
Vanessa was already there.
For the first time Vanessa could remember, Eleanor wore no pearls.
She sat down and placed her handbag beside her chair.
“You cut your hair.”
Vanessa touched the ends instinctively.
“Two inches.”
“It suits you.”
“Thank you.”
A server poured water.
Neither spoke until he left.
Eleanor folded her napkin across her lap.
“Adrian thinks I’m here to persuade you to withdraw the divorce.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
Vanessa waited.
Eleanor looked toward the window.
“I told him I was.”
“That sounds healthy.”
“I did not come for commentary.”
“Then why did you come?”
Eleanor looked back at her.
“I want the house.”
Vanessa nodded.
“I know.”
“I want to reverse the sale.”
“I know.”
“I’ll repay you.”
“With what?”
Eleanor’s face tightened.
“That is my problem.”
“It becomes mine if you can’t.”
“I can arrange it.”
“How?”
“I have assets.”
“You had assets before the sale.”
“Vanessa.”
“You sold because the debt structure had become unsustainable.”
Eleanor stared at her.
“You sound like Samuel.”
“Samuel knows what he’s doing.”
“He is no longer my lawyer.”
“I heard.”
Eleanor reached for her water.
Her hand shook slightly.
She put the glass down without drinking.
“I made a mistake.”
“Selling?”
“Yes.”
“Or selling to me?”
A pause.
“Both.”
Vanessa looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because it has destroyed my family.”
“No.”
Eleanor’s eyes sharpened.
“No?”
“The sale exposed your family.”
“That is a convenient distinction.”
“It’s an important one.”
“You have always enjoyed distinctions.”
“Adrian says that too.”
“I wonder why.”
Vanessa sat back.
For a moment neither spoke.
A couple at the next table argued softly over whether they had ordered sparkling or still water.
Eleanor adjusted the cuff of her dress.
“I was cruel to you,” she said.
Vanessa did not answer.
“In the foyer.”
“Yes.”
“I thought you were bluffing about leaving him.”
“Yes.”
“And some part of me wanted him to frighten you into staying.”
Vanessa’s throat tightened.
Eleanor continued before she could speak.
“Because I knew what he would be like if you left.”
“That is not a reason to keep me there.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
Eleanor looked down.
“Yes.”
Vanessa had wanted an apology.
She had imagined Eleanor making one.
In none of the imaginary versions had Vanessa felt this tired.
“Why is Adrian like this?” she asked.
Eleanor looked almost offended.
“You think I can answer that?”
“You raised him.”
“So did his father.”
“His father has been dead nine years.”
“And somehow remains responsible for many things.”
Vanessa looked at her.
Eleanor’s mouth curved without humor.
“There. You see? I can be honest.”
“Try more.”
Eleanor looked away again.
“Adrian’s father could make generosity feel like debt. Every vacation, every gift, every tuition payment. He kept score. Adrian hated him for it.”
“And became him.”
“No.”
The denial came too fast.
Eleanor caught herself.
Her shoulders lowered.
“Somewhat.”
“More than somewhat.”
“Yes.”
Vanessa waited.
Eleanor rubbed one finger against the place where her pearl necklace usually rested.
“When Adrian was fourteen, his father moved out for six months. Adrian decided I would fall apart.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did you let him think you needed him?”
Eleanor looked at Vanessa sharply.
Then down.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my son was fourteen and terrified.”
“And later?”
“Later it became useful.”
The answer surprised Vanessa.
Eleanor gave a small shrug.
“He liked being needed. I liked not dealing with unpleasant things.”
“Money?”
“Sometimes.”
“People?”
“Yes.”
“Your foundation?”
Eleanor’s face changed.
There it was.
Vanessa leaned forward.
“What happened with the foundation?”
Eleanor looked toward the door.
“This meeting was about the house.”
“No. This meeting is about why you sold it.”
“I had cash-flow problems.”
“You used foundation money.”
Eleanor’s eyes hardened.
“Be careful.”
“That means yes.”
May you like
“It means you do not understand the accounting.”
“Then explain it.”
