Chương 6
She looked at the watch on the nightstand.
“She had time to tell Emily about my stupid rose, but not time to tell me Emily existed.”
Daniel said nothing.
Claire was grateful.
At 1:17 in the morning, her aunt Judith called.
Claire watched the phone ring.
Daniel looked at the screen.
“Do you want me to answer?”
“No.”
The call ended.
Thirty seconds later, Judith called again.
Claire answered.
“What?”
Silence.
Then Judith said, “Claire.”
“Did you know?”
Another silence.
Claire stood.
“Did you know about Emily?”
“Yes.”
The room became very quiet.
Daniel got up and closed the bedroom door as though someone else might overhear them from the empty living room.
Claire walked to the window.
Baltimore shone beneath her, blurred by glass and tears she refused to acknowledge.
“How long?”
“Since she was born.”
Claire pressed her forehead against the window.
“Did my mother give her the watch?”
“Yes.”
“And you told me it was buried with her.”
Judith breathed out.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Your mother asked me not to tell you until she could explain.”
“She died.”
“I know.”
“So when exactly were you waiting for her to explain?”
“Claire.”
“No.”
Judith’s voice broke slightly.
“I made the wrong decision.”
“Which one?”
There was no answer.
Claire turned away from the window.
“Did Mom ask you to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“After she died?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Judith took so long to answer that Claire wondered if the call had dropped.
“You were getting married.”
Claire laughed.
It sounded ugly in the hotel room.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You had finally gotten through the worst part of losing her. Thomas told me you were having panic attacks again. You were planning a wedding. I thought—”
“You thought I couldn’t handle having a sister?”
“I thought you deserved some peace.”
“That wasn’t yours to decide.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
Judith did not defend herself.
That made Claire angrier.
“Emily said you went to her apartment for the watch.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because Laura had told you it would be yours someday.”
“She gave it to Emily.”
“Yes.”
“So you tried to take it from her.”
“I asked for it.”
“Did she give it to you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Judith began crying.
Claire hated hearing it.
She hated the part of herself that wanted Judith to hurt.
“Tell me everything.”
“Not over the phone.”
“Why not?”
“Because there are things you should see.”
“What things?”
“Letters.”
Claire sat down.
Daniel watched her.
“What letters?”
“Your mother wrote to you.”
“When?”
“During the last month.”
“Where are they?”
“With me.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“How many?”
“Four.”
“And you kept them.”
“Yes.”
For several seconds, Claire heard only Judith’s breathing.
Then she said, “Bring them tomorrow.”
“I will.”
“No. Not to my father’s house. Not to yours. Meet me at Mom’s old apartment at noon.”
“Claire, the lease—”
“I still have a key.”
“They changed the locks after we cleared it.”
“Then bring whatever key works now.”
Judith stopped arguing.
“Okay.”
Claire ended the call.
Daniel stared at her.
“Four letters?”
She nodded.
“Do you want to tell me what she said?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t know anything.”
Daniel came toward her.
Claire lifted a hand.
“Not yet.”
He stopped.
She looked down at her wedding dress.
“Help me get out of this.”
The zipper caught halfway.
Daniel worked it loose carefully.
Neither of them spoke.
In another version of the night, he would have unzipped her dress while kissing the back of her neck.
Claire thought of that and nearly laughed.
Instead she stepped out of the gown and stood in shapewear and a strapless bra while Daniel folded the dress with no idea how one folded a wedding gown.
“You’re ruining it.”
“I have no training.”
“It cost eleven thousand dollars.”
He froze.
“You told me six.”
“I lied.”
He looked at her.
Claire covered her face.
A laugh escaped both of them.
It was stupid and badly timed and exactly what she needed.
At noon the next day, Claire met Judith outside Laura’s former apartment building.
Emily was not there.
Claire had not invited her.
She had sent Emily a text that morning.
I believe enough to want answers. I don’t know what I believe beyond that yet.
Emily had replied:
That’s fair.
Nothing else.
Judith looked ten years older than she had at the funeral.
She carried a brown document case.
Claire saw it and immediately disliked the case.
It looked administrative.
Her mother’s secrets should not have fit so neatly inside something with a zipper.
The apartment had been rented to someone else after Laura died, so they could not go inside. Judith had arranged instead to use the building’s small community room.
There were folding chairs, a vending machine, and a fake plant with dust in its leaves.
Claire sat across from Judith at a plastic table.
“Start.”
Judith placed the document case between them.
“Emily was born in 1999.”
“I can count.”
Judith nodded.
“Your mother and your father were separated then.”
Claire knew that.
She had grown up with a simplified version.
Thomas and Laura had married too young. They fought constantly. Thomas moved out. Laura had a brief relationship with another man. The divorce followed.
Claire had never asked whether the dates overlapped.
Judith said, “Laura became pregnant after Thomas left.”
“Emily’s father?”
“A man named Christopher Wells. He was twenty-three. They worked together at a bookstore.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does Emily?”
“No.”
“Did he know?”
“Yes.”
Claire waited.
“He didn’t want a child.”
The plainness of the sentence made it worse.
“Mom did?”
Judith looked at her hands.
“She changed her mind every three days.”
Claire stared at her.
“That sounds like Mom.”
May you like
Judith almost smiled.
“She had no money. Thomas had temporary primary custody of you because Laura didn’t have stable housing. Our mother was furious. She thought another baby would destroy any chance Laura had of getting you back.”
