Chương 15
“I was tired of your handwriting.”
Victoria nodded.
“Fair.”
Elena looked at her.
“You look different.”
“So do you.”
“I look the same as the train.”
“No.”
Victoria lifted her coffee.
“You looked like you were waiting for permission to run.”
Elena’s jaw tightened.
“I almost did.”
“I know.”
Elena gave her a warning look.
Victoria corrected herself.
“I believe you.”
Better.
The waitress returned.
They ordered food because not ordering would make them look like people in a confrontation, which they were, but neither wanted the attention.
Victoria ordered eggs.
Elena ordered pancakes.
“You hated pancakes,” Victoria said.
“I changed.”
“You said they were wet cake.”
“They are.”
“So why order them?”
“Because I can.”
Victoria looked at her.
Elena smiled faintly.
It was not a joke, exactly.
Victoria understood anyway.
When the food came, neither ate much.
Elena finally said, “Tell me something true that makes you look bad.”
Victoria leaned back.
“That’s broad.”
“Pick one.”
She looked toward the counter.
“I liked being the only daughter.”
Elena had not expected that.
Victoria continued.
“After the funeral. Once the worst part passed.”
Elena stared.
Victoria’s eyes filled but her voice stayed steady.
“Dad depended on me. The board respected me. People looked at me like I was strong. Nobody compared us anymore.”
Elena’s fingers curled around her fork.
“You liked me dead.”
“Sometimes.”
The answer hurt cleanly.
Elena nodded.
“Okay.”
Victoria looked at her.
“You’re not leaving?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked for something ugly.”
Victoria pressed her lips together.
Elena looked at the syrup bottle.
“My turn?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“I know.”
She breathed slowly.
“Sometimes when I was gone, I liked being dead.”
Victoria’s face changed.
Elena continued.
“Nobody expected anything from Elena Vale because Elena Vale didn’t exist. I didn’t have to be Dad’s disappointing daughter. I didn’t have to be your irresponsible sister. I could be whoever paid rent that month.”
Victoria looked down.
“I made that happen.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Elena’s voice hardened.
“I didn’t come for an apology.”
Victoria nodded.
They ate in silence.
A toddler in the next booth dropped a spoon.
Someone near the kitchen laughed too loudly.
The waitress refilled their coffee without asking.
Victoria said, “Did you ever think about calling me?”
“Hundreds of times.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because every version ended with you finding me.”
“That was reasonable.”
“Were you looking?”
Victoria hesitated.
“Yes.”
Elena went still.
“For how long?”
“About three years.”
“How?”
“Private investigators.”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
“Dad’s?”
“No. Mine.”
“Did you find me?”
“Once.”
Elena stared.
“Where?”
“Maine.”
Her fork stopped halfway to the plate.
“When?”
“You were working at a print shop.”
The room seemed to tilt though the train was long gone.
“You knew.”
“I knew the town.”
“Why didn’t you come?”
Victoria looked at her hands.
“Because the investigator sent a photograph.”
“What photograph?”
“You outside a grocery store. Laughing with a woman from work.”
Elena barely breathed.
Victoria looked up.
“You looked happy.”
“That stopped you?”
“No.”
Victoria’s mouth twisted.
“What stopped me was realizing I had two choices. I could drag you back into everything to protect myself, or leave you alone to protect myself. Leaving you alone was easier.”
Elena laughed in disbelief.
“Even your mercy was selfish.”
“Yes.”
The honesty made anger difficult to arrange.
Victoria took a sip of coffee.
“I checked again a few times over the years.”
“Why?”
“To make sure you were alive.”
“You could have asked me.”
“I didn’t have the right.”
“You had no problem taking rights when you needed them.”
“I know.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed.
Victoria winced.
“Sorry. Habit.”
For the first time, Elena laughed.
Victoria did too.
It lasted perhaps three seconds.
Then both women looked embarrassed.
Elena stared at her pancakes.
“I don’t know what this is.”
Victoria nodded.
“Neither do I.”
“I don’t forgive you.”
“I know.”
Elena glared.
Victoria lifted both hands.
“Sorry.”
“I may never forgive you.”
“That would be reasonable.”
“I don’t want your permission for that either.”
Victoria nodded.
“Okay.”
They stayed another hour.
Not because they solved anything.
Because leaving was difficult.
They talked about their mother.
About the old house.
About the time Elena accidentally broke Victoria’s front tooth with a badminton racket and blamed the dog.
“That was you?”
“You seriously believed the dog?”
“I was twelve.”
“The dog did not own a racket.”
Victoria laughed.
“You cried for two hours.”
“My tooth was broken.”
“You kept looking in the mirror and saying your life was over.”
“I was twelve.”
“Age as a defense. Runs in the family.”
Elena smiled.
Then the smile disappeared.
“I missed you.”
Victoria stopped breathing.
Elena looked angry about having said it.
“I hate that I did.”
Victoria’s eyes filled.
“I missed you too.”
“That doesn’t make anything better.”
“No.”
“Good.”
The waitress placed the check between them.
Both reached for it.
Victoria laughed.
“I’m paying.”
“No.”
“I invited you.”
“I asked to meet.”
“I owe you.”
“That is exactly why you’re not paying.”
Victoria stared.
Elena took the check.
“I can buy pancakes.”
A tiny thing.
A stupid thing.
It mattered.
Outside, cold air hit their faces.
They stood beside Elena’s rental car.
Victoria shoved her hands into her coat pockets.
“What happens now?”
Elena looked at her.
“Nothing.”
Victoria nodded.
“Okay.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
“No letters for a while.”
“All right.”
“No showing up.”
“I won’t.”
“If I call, you answer.”
Victoria’s face changed.
“Yes.”
Elena opened the car door.
Victoria said, “Elena.”
She turned.
Victoria looked as if she had rehearsed a sentence and then decided against it.
“What?”
“Drive carefully.”
Elena almost laughed.
“That’s a terrible thing for you to say.”
Victoria covered her mouth.
“Oh God.”
Elena laughed.
Then Victoria did.
They stood in a diner parking lot laughing at the worst possible sentence until both had tears in their eyes.
It was not forgiveness.
It was not reconciliation.
May you like
It was not a new beginning.
It was simply the first memory they made together that did not belong to twelve years ago.
