Chương 10
“I keep hoping you’ll become sensible.”
Daniel taped the box.
“How’s that going?”
“Poorly.”
Charles leaned against the doorframe.
“Margaret wants to know if you’ll come to Labor Day dinner.”
“No.”
“You didn’t think about it.”
“I’ve been thinking about it since June.”
“She says she’s willing to be civil to Claire.”
Daniel looked at him.
“That’s generous.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“Do you?”
Charles rubbed his face.
“She’s miserable.”
Daniel kept packing.
Charles said, “She misses Ethan.”
Daniel stopped.
“I believe that.”
His cousin seemed surprised.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Then—”
“Missing him doesn’t make her safe for him.”
Charles looked down.
Daniel put another book into the box.
After a while Charles said, “My dad says Aunt Margaret was always worse with you and Rebecca.”
Daniel looked up.
“Why?”
“I asked him.”
“And?”
“He said because you were hers.”
Daniel felt something unpleasant move through him.
Charles continued.
“I asked what that meant. He said she behaved better when other parents could take their kids away.”
Daniel leaned against the desk.
“Did he ever say anything?”
“To her?”
“Yes.”
Charles shook his head.
“He said it wasn’t his place.”
Daniel laughed without humor.
“Of course.”
“He feels bad.”
“Good.”
Charles winced.
Daniel immediately regretted it.
Then did not.
Both feelings stayed.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Charles shrugged.
“You’re allowed.”
“No, I’m not. Your dad being a coward thirty years ago isn’t your fault.”
Charles looked toward the window.
“He wants to apologize.”
“To me?”
“And Rebecca.”
Daniel considered it.
“Tell him to call Rebecca first.”
“Why?”
“She’s been waiting longer.”
That evening Margaret came to Daniel’s house.
She did not call first.
The doorbell rang at 7:13.
Claire was upstairs helping Ethan shower.
Daniel was eating cold chicken over the sink.
He looked at the doorbell camera.
Margaret stood on the front porch wearing white trousers and a pale gray blouse.
For a moment Daniel did nothing.
Then his phone rang.
Her name appeared.
He let it ring out.
The doorbell sounded again.
Ethan shouted from upstairs, “Who is it?”
Daniel’s heart kicked.
“Nobody you need to worry about.”
He immediately hated the phrase.
Nobody.
That was not true.
He walked upstairs.
Claire was standing in the hallway in bare feet, holding Ethan’s towel.
“She’s here.”
“I know.”
Ethan looked between them.
“Grandma?”
Daniel crouched.
“Yes.”
The boy’s face changed.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is she coming in?”
“No.”
The answer came easily now.
Ethan nodded.
“Okay.”
Claire handed him the towel.
“Finish drying off, peanut.”
“I’m not a peanut.”
“Cashew.”
“That’s worse.”
He went into his room.
Claire turned to Daniel.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going outside.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
That mattered.
He went downstairs and stepped onto the porch, pulling the door closed behind him.
Margaret looked past him before it shut.
“You won’t let me inside.”
“No.”
“I came to speak to you privately.”
“We can speak here.”
She stared at him.
The evening air smelled of cut grass and rain that had not yet started.
Somewhere down the block a lawn crew was still working despite the hour.
Margaret glanced toward the noise.
“This is humiliating.”
Daniel almost laughed.
“You came to my house uninvited.”
“I am your mother.”
“Yes.”
“I have never been treated this way in my life.”
“That may be part of the problem.”
Her eyes flashed.
There it was.
Not calmness.
Not elegance.
Rage.
It was gone almost immediately.
“I came to apologize.”
Daniel waited.
Margaret folded her hands.
“I should not have said what I said to Ethan.”
Daniel kept waiting.
“I was angry.”
He said nothing.
“I believed he was deliberately disobeying me.”
Still nothing.
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
“I regret frightening him.”
Daniel leaned against the porch column.
“That’s an apology to me.”
“What?”
“You’re telling me.”
“He isn’t equipped for this conversation.”
“He’s equipped to be threatened but not apologized to?”
“Don’t be absurd.”
Daniel looked at her.
Margaret closed her eyes briefly.
“Fine.”
She inhaled.
“I will apologize to him.”
“For what?”
“I just told you.”
“Tell me again.”
“I regret frightening him.”
“What did you do?”
Margaret’s face hardened.
“We are not going to conduct a deposition.”
“Then we’re done.”
He turned toward the door.
“I pulled the chair.”
Daniel stopped.
Behind him, Margaret continued.
“I was angry. He had ignored me repeatedly. I pulled the chair with my foot.”
Daniel turned back.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted him to pay attention.”
“And the threat?”
“I said something inappropriate.”
“What did you say?”
“You know what I said.”
“I want to hear whether you know.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
Daniel had seen his mother cry many times.
He had also seen her weaponize tears.
The dangerous thing was that both could be true at once.
She could be genuinely hurt and still use the hurt to control him.
“I said I would throw him overboard with the toy.”
Daniel nodded.
Margaret wiped beneath one eye.
“I would never do that.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Yes.”
She seemed almost offended by his calmness.
“Then why are you treating me like some monster?”
“Because he didn’t know.”
Margaret looked at him.
“He’s six. You’re sixty-five. You knew it was an empty threat. He didn’t.”
Her mouth trembled.
“I lost my temper.”
“Yes.”
“I am apologizing.”
“You’re getting there.”
She turned away.
For several seconds she stared toward the street.
A sprinkler clicked on two houses down.
Daniel waited.
Margaret said, “Your father would hate this.”
He felt the old pull.
Then something in him simply refused.
“Dad is dead.”
She flinched.
“I know that.”
“Then leave him out of it.”
“You think I don’t know he’s dead?”
“I think you use him when he can’t disagree.”
Margaret looked at him with naked hatred.
This time she did not hide it quickly enough.
Daniel saw the child in himself react before the adult could intervene.
A cold pressure in his ribs.
A need to fix the sentence.
To soften.
May you like
To restore her.
He put his hands in his pockets.
