Chương 7
“No. You know the sentence.”
The elevator doors closed.
Owen rubbed one hand over his mouth. He had been Daniel’s closest friend since college, though neither of them used the word. Their friendship consisted mostly of work, insults, and the mutual knowledge of which calls could be ignored.
“I’m not saying stay forever,” Owen said. “Give me twenty minutes.”
“I gave you twelve years.”
“This is not about me.”
“No. That’s the problem.”
The doors opened.
Daniel crossed the lobby without looking back.
When he reached the apartment, the nursery door was open.
Helen stood beside the cribs holding a cardboard archive box. Elise was near the window with Maisie against her shoulder. Her face was pale.
Rosie cried from the crib.
Daniel entered and went directly to her.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” Elise said.
Helen gave a short laugh. “That appears to be the household answer.”
Daniel lifted Rosie. “I asked what happened.”
Elise pressed her lips together.
Helen set the box on the rug. “I asked Miss Navarro whether she understood professional boundaries.”
Daniel looked at Elise.
“She thinks I’m trying to replace Rebecca,” Elise said.
“I did not say that.”
“You said young women often mistake grieving men for opportunities.”
Helen’s face tightened.
Daniel stared at his mother-in-law. “You said that to her?”
“I said proximity can confuse people.”
“Get out.”
Helen stepped closer. “You brought a twenty-eight-year-old woman into my daughter’s nursery, gave her access to every private part of this family, and now you rush home because she calls.”
“She didn’t call.”
Helen’s eyes moved to Elise.
“I called him,” she said.
Daniel felt Elise’s attention turn toward him.
He adjusted Rosie against his chest.
“You heard me,” he told Helen. “Leave.”
Helen’s chin lifted. “Defend her. Of course.”
“Don’t make this uglier than it is.”
“Daniel, it was ugly before she arrived.”
Elise flinched as though the words had struck her.
Daniel saw it.
He also saw the box on the rug, Rebecca’s handwriting on one side, and the pink sleeve of a maternity sweater caught beneath the lid.
His breath stopped.
For a moment, he could not look away.
Helen followed his gaze.
The anger went out of her face. “I thought you should have these.”
“You thought wrong.”
“They were in her room at my house.”
“You packed them?”
“I couldn’t keep walking past them.”
“And now I’m supposed to?”
His voice had risen. Rosie began crying harder.
Elise came toward him. “Let me take her.”
“I have her.”
“She’s upset.”
“I said I have her.”
Elise stopped.
The room fell silent except for Rosie’s cries.
Daniel looked from Elise to Helen. Both women stood very still.
He had the sudden sensation of being observed from a great distance, as though he were a man behind glass demonstrating every reason no one trusted him.
He lowered his voice.
“Helen, go home.”
She picked up her handbag.
At the doorway, she turned toward Elise. “I should not have spoken to you that way.”
Elise’s expression remained guarded.
“No,” she said. “You shouldn’t have.”
Helen looked at Daniel once, then left.
The apartment door closed several rooms away.
Daniel continued holding Rosie until her crying became a series of exhausted shudders. He tried to sway the way Elise did. His body remained too rigid.
Elise took Maisie to her crib.
“I left the meeting,” Daniel said.
She tucked the blanket beneath Maisie’s feet. “I heard.”
“I told Helen to leave.”
“I heard that too.”
“What else did you expect me to do?”
Elise turned.
“Not make me stand here wondering whether you agreed with her.”
Daniel stared at her.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“You barely look at me unless something is wrong with the twins.”
“You work for me.”
“Exactly.”
“What are you asking?”
“I’m not asking for anything.”
“Then stop speaking in riddles.”
Her face changed. The exhaustion disappeared beneath anger.
“You should have said she was wrong,” Elise said. “Not because I need you to defend my honor. Not because I want some ridiculous thing from you. Because she accused me of using your grief to get close to you, in the room where I sleep on the floor when your daughters are sick.”
“I told her to leave.”
“You told her to leave after she brought Rebecca’s box.”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this. You froze, and then you got angry at everyone in the room because you didn’t want to feel what was in front of you.”
Daniel’s arms tightened around Rosie.
Elise immediately looked at the baby. “Careful.”
“I am careful.”
“You’re holding her too tightly.”
He looked down.
Rosie’s face was red. Her fists were pressed against his chest.
Daniel loosened his grip.
Elise stepped forward and held out her arms.
This time he gave Rosie to her.
The baby quieted within seconds.
Daniel’s shame rose so quickly it became anger before he could stop it.
“Do you think that proves something?”
Elise’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
“You think because they settle for you, you understand them better than I do.”
“I understand them differently.”
“You have known them eighteen days.”
“Twenty-three.”
“You count everything.”
“Yes. Somebody should.”
The sentence hung in the room.
Daniel looked at the box on the rug.
Elise closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, the anger was gone. That was worse.
“I’m resigning,” she said.
“No.”
She almost smiled. “That is not how resignation works.”
“You’re upset.”
“I’m clear.”
“I’ll increase your salary.”
“This is not about money.”
“Everything is partly about money.”
“That may be the saddest thing you’ve said to me.”
Daniel stepped between her and the door. He did not touch her, but she stopped.
“You cannot leave them without notice.”
“I will stay until Mrs. Vale finds temporary coverage. Two weeks, as required by the contract you finally gave me.”
“You signed it.”
“Yes.”
May you like
“Then you agreed to the position.”
“I agreed to employment. Not to being questioned by your family, shouted at by you, and treated like evidence in a custody fight.”
