Chương 12
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t excuse them.”
“No.”
“I hate that both can be true.”
Emily smiled faintly.
“Welcome to the worst book club.”
Leah pointed at her.
“See? I knew that line was good.”
Emily did not answer Diane until September.
She wrote only three sentences.
I received your letter. I appreciate that you named what you did without asking me to make it smaller. I am not ready for you to see Eli, but I am willing to meet you alone in a public place.
Noah read the message.
“You sure?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Emily looked at him.
“That’s all?”
“You want me to argue?”
“No.”
“Then okay.”
They met in a coffee shop on a Saturday morning.
Diane arrived fifteen minutes early.
Emily knew because she arrived ten minutes early and Diane was already sitting near the window with a cup she had not touched.
Her hair was shorter again.
She wore no earrings.
Emily had expected some physical transformation that would match the year they had lived apart.
There wasn’t one.
Diane looked like Diane.
That unsettled her more than it should have.
Emily ordered tea.
She sat across from her.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Diane looked at Emily’s bare arms.
The bruise was long gone.
Her eyes moved away.
“Thank you for coming,” she said.
Emily nodded.
“I almost didn’t.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Diane stopped.
Then gave a small nod.
“You’re right.”
That was new enough to make Emily suspicious.
She took a sip of tea.
It was too hot.
Diane folded and unfolded the paper sleeve around her coffee cup.
“I practiced what I was going to say.”
Emily almost smiled.
“I can tell.”
Diane looked embarrassed.
“I’m trying not to.”
“Good.”
Silence.
A barista called a name neither of them heard clearly.
A man near the door shook rain from an umbrella even though a sign asked customers not to.
Diane watched him for a second.
Then she looked at Emily.
“I miss Eli.”
Emily’s body tightened.
Diane raised one hand slightly.
“I’m not asking.”
“Okay.”
“I want to be clear about that.”
“Okay.”
“I miss Noah too.”
Emily said nothing.
“And Leah.”
Still nothing.
Diane looked down.
“I spent most of this year being angry that everyone abandoned me.”
Emily felt the old irritation rise.
Diane continued before she could respond.
“Then the counselor I was seeing asked me to list the people who had supposedly abandoned me and what happened immediately before each one left.”
Emily looked at her.
Diane’s mouth twisted.
“It was an unpleasant exercise.”
Despite herself, Emily laughed.
Diane did too.
The laugh disappeared quickly.
“I don’t like the version of events where I am the common denominator.”
“Most people don’t.”
“I kept thinking if Frank were alive, none of this would have happened.”
Emily waited.
Diane stared at her coffee.
“That may be true. But not for the reason I meant.”
“What reason did you mean?”
“I meant he would have stopped all of you from overreacting.”
Emily raised her eyebrows.
Diane gave a small, ashamed smile.
“I know.”
“And now?”
“Now I think he would have gotten me out of the room before I did something unforgivable.”
Emily considered the word.
“Unforgivable?”
“I don’t know what else to call it.”
“I do.”
Diane looked up.
“Harmful.”
She blinked.
Emily continued, “You keep making everything absolute. Maybe because absolute things are easier. Monster or good mother. Forgiven or unforgiven. Family or enemy.”
Diane did not defend herself.
Emily wrapped both hands around the tea cup.
“What you did was harmful. It changed things. I don’t know whether I forgive you in some permanent, official way.”
Diane’s eyes filled.
Emily kept going.
“And I’m not going to decide that today so you can feel better.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I’m trying.”
Emily believed that more than she expected.
Diane looked out the window.
“I was terrified you were going to leave with him.”
“Why?”
“You were so tired.”
“I was tired.”
“You were crying all the time.”
“I had a baby.”
“I know.”
“You told people I was unstable.”
Diane’s face tightened.
“I did.”
“You made my anxiety evidence against me.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
Diane was quiet for a long time.
Finally she said, “Because if you were unreasonable, then I didn’t have to listen when you said no.”
Emily felt the answer like a weight placed gently on the table.
There was no defense inside it.
No tragic childhood story.
No dead husband.
No claim of love.
Just the mechanism.
“If you were unreasonable,” Diane repeated, “then I could keep believing I was helping.”
Emily looked toward the window.
Traffic moved through the wet intersection.
A cyclist cursed at a car.
Someone behind them dropped a spoon.
Life continued with insulting normality.
Emily said, “That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes me think we might be able to have another conversation.”
Diane closed her eyes.
A tear slipped down one cheek.
She wiped it away immediately.
“Another conversation,” she repeated.
“Not Eli.”
“I know.”
“Not holidays.”
“I know.”
“Not coming to the condo.”
“I know.”
Emily studied her.
“You hate this.”
Diane laughed weakly.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Diane looked surprised.
Emily shrugged.
“I don’t trust growth that feels comfortable.”
Diane actually smiled at that.
They met four more times over the next three months.
Once went badly.
Diane complained that Noah was “punishing” her by not returning calls.
Emily stood up.
Diane immediately said, “Wait.”
Emily remained standing.
Diane swallowed.
“I did it again.”
“What?”
“Made his boundary into something he was doing to me.”
Emily sat down.
The next meeting was shorter.
The one after that was almost ordinary.
They discussed a plumber.
Diane complained about grocery prices.
Emily told her Eli hated peas.
Diane started to say, “You should try—”
Then stopped herself so abruptly that Emily laughed.
“What?”
Diane looked tortured.
“Nothing.”
“No, say it.”
“I was going to tell you how to feed your child.”
“I know.”
May you like
“I hate this process.”
Emily smiled into her coffee.
