Chương 4
When she looked back, Henry seemed tired.
Not old.
That distinction mattered to her even if she could not explain why.
He spoke more quietly.
“I toured the place because you asked me to consider it.”
“I asked you to consider it with me.”
“It’s where I’d be living.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Claire almost answered too quickly.
She stopped.
Henry’s fingers rested around his water glass.
His left hand had changed in the last several years. More veins. A pale scar across one knuckle from a woodworking accident Claire remembered from childhood. His wedding ring had been off for six years, but the faint indentation seemed permanent.
“It’s forty minutes from you,” he said. “Closer than the house.”
“I know where it is.”
“I’d still drive.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“What are you worried about?”
The question should have been easy.
Instead Claire looked toward Lily.
Her daughter was coming back.
Chocolate had appeared at one corner of her mouth.
“Later,” Claire said.
Henry gave her a look.
She almost smiled at the hypocrisy.
Lily climbed onto the chair between them.
“Grandpa?”
“Yes?”
“Did you go near the mirror?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She wiped her fingers on his napkin.
Henry looked at Claire.
Claire looked down.
Dinner ended after ten.
The relatives spread through the hotel in small groups. Some went to the bar. Several took children upstairs. Daniel proposed cards in the lounge and was ignored.
Claire walked with Lily and Henry toward the elevators.
The giant mirror remained beside the ballroom entrance.
Lily saw it before they reached the doors.
She stopped.
Henry stopped with her.
Claire kept walking two steps before noticing.
Lily’s hand tightened around Henry’s.
“We can go the other way,” Claire said.
The alternate route added maybe thirty seconds.
Henry looked down at Lily.
“What do you think?”
Lily studied the mirror from fifteen feet away.
Claire expected her to choose the other route.
Instead she moved closer to Henry’s leg.
“This way.”
They continued.
When they passed the mirror, Lily turned her face toward it.
Henry did too.
Their reflections crossed the glass together: a small girl in cream velvet and an older man in charcoal, hand in hand, watched by Claire a pace behind them.
Lily hurried the final three steps.
At the elevators, Henry pressed the button.
Claire caught his eye.
Neither spoke about Pine Hollow.
The elevator arrived.
Three relatives were already inside. The conversation became about breakfast.
That was how the Bennett family survived difficult subjects.
They allowed elevators to rescue them.
Claire shared a hotel room with Lily on the eighth floor. Henry’s room was across the hall.
By the time Claire had removed Lily’s ribbon, wiped chocolate from her face, found the toothbrush that had somehow migrated into a shoe bag, and negotiated the question of whether tights could count as pajama pants, Lily seemed exhausted enough to sleep immediately.
She did not.
Claire turned off the bedside lamp.
Snow reflected blue-white light through the curtains.
For several minutes Lily lay still.
Then she said, “Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Mirrors aren’t alive?”
“No.”
“None?”
“None.”
“What if they’re old?”
“Still no.”
“What if they’re giant?”
“No.”
Lily considered.
“What if they’re magic?”
Claire pulled the comforter higher over her shoulder.
“Magic mirrors are in stories.”
“The hotel one could be.”
“It isn’t.”
“How do you know?”
Claire opened her mouth.
She had no answer suitable for a child who considered observation unreliable when it contradicted conviction.
“Because Grandpa stepped behind it,” she said.
“I didn’t see.”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because he told us.”
Lily was quiet.
Claire could hear the heating system click on.
“Grandpa says things that aren’t true when he’s joking.”
There it was.
Claire stared toward the ceiling.
“He does sometimes.”
“So maybe it ate him.”
“No.”
“But maybe.”
“No, Lily.”
The firmness made Lily turn her head.
Claire softened her voice.
“He was playing a trick.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought it would make you laugh.”
“It didn’t.”
“I know.”
“He laughed.”
“I know.”
Another silence.
Then Lily asked, “Is Grandpa going away?”
Claire’s body went still.
Children were terrifying partly because they noticed the wrong things and partly because sometimes they noticed exactly the right ones.
“What makes you ask that?”
“At dinner you were mad.”
“You heard us?”
“A little.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“What did you hear?”
“You said he always does something. And he said apartments.”
Of course.
Not enough information to understand.
Exactly enough to worry.
Claire rolled onto her side.
“Grandpa is thinking about moving to a different apartment.”
Lily stared at her.
“He has a house.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because sometimes houses are a lot of work.”
“He can fix things.”
“Yes.”
“Grandpa can fix everything.”
Claire nearly said not everything.
The words rose and stopped.
“He can fix a lot of things.”
“Is his house broken?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Claire sat up and turned on the lamp.
This conversation had exceeded darkness.
Lily squinted.
Claire tucked a loose curl behind her daughter’s ear.
“Grandpa gets to decide where he lives.”
“Is he going far?”
“No. The place he’s looking at is actually closer to us.”
That seemed to surprise her.
“Closer?”
“Yeah.”
“How close?”
“About forty minutes.”
Lily knew time mainly through cartoons and snacks.
“How many Blueys?”
Claire did the calculation.
“About five.”
“That’s far.”
“It’s not very far.”
“Can we walk?”
“No.”
“Then it’s far.”
Fair.
Claire smiled despite herself.
Lily did not.
“Is he moving because he fell?”
Claire’s smile disappeared.
“How do you know about that?”
“Grandpa told me.”
Of course he had.
“What did he tell you?”
“That the garage pushed him.”
Claire rubbed her forehead.
Lily continued.
“He said garages are dangerous when they get bored.”
“That is not what happened.”
“I know.”
Claire looked at her.
Lily pulled at a thread on the comforter.
“He fell.”
“Yes.”
“Did it hurt?”
“A little.”
“Is he going away because he’s old?”
“No.”
May you like
“Then why?”
Claire had spent three months trying to answer that question with her father and suddenly heard how inadequate her own explanations sounded.
