Chương 12
Maxwell’s electronic approvals appeared on eleven policy renewals.
He had not read most of them.
Pamela called him one evening.
“The board will ask you to resign permanently,” she said.
Maxwell stood at his kitchen counter slicing an apple because Lily had shown him how thin the slices needed to be.
“When?”
“Next week.”
“What do you recommend?”
“As interim CEO?”
“As yourself.”
Pamela was quiet.
“I recommend you stop asking employees to tell you who to be.”
He set down the knife.
“That sounded rehearsed.”
“I’ve wanted to say it for nine years.”
He smiled despite himself.
“Will the company survive?”
“Yes.”
“Without me?”
“Especially if you stop calling every morning.”
“I called twice.”
“Today.”
He looked at the uneven apple slices.
“Take care of it.”
“I intend to.”
After the call, Maxwell found Lucy’s notebook on the kitchen table.
The girls had visited his house that afternoon for the first court-approved home assessment. Lucy must have left it behind.
He picked it up.
The cover was bent at one corner. A sticker shaped like a fox covered the manufacturer’s logo.
He should have closed it without reading.
Instead he opened to the first page.
The entries began eighteen months earlier.
Mom late 17 minutes.
Dad phone call maybe — did not happen.
Grandma chemo, Simone pickup.
Lily nightmare 2:11.
Mom promised Saturday park — went Sunday, rain.
Mr. Harrison said he would fix zipper — fixed.
Grandma hospital, said home by dinner — home 9:40.
Mom accident.
Grandma said she would not die yet.
Grandma died.
Maxwell Monday 4:00 — early.
Maxwell Thursday 4:00 — on time.
Maxwell Monday 4:00 — 11 minutes late, bridge.
Maxwell Tuesday — canceled.
Maxwell Friday video — answered questions.
Dad visit — Lily went.
Maxwell aquarium — rude to man, listened about octopus.
He stood reading until he heard a car in the drive.
The Harrisons had returned for the notebook.
Lucy entered the kitchen ahead of Simone and saw it in his hands.
Her face went blank.
“I was going to bring it to you,” Maxwell said.
“You read it.”
He could have lied. The impulse came quickly.
“Yes.”
Lucy crossed the room and snatched it from him.
“You had no right.”
“No.”
“Why did you?”
“I wanted to know what you wrote about me.”
“That’s not yours.”
“I know.”
“You always say that after.”
Maxwell looked toward Simone. She remained near the doorway, arms folded.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Lucy shoved the notebook into her backpack.
“Don’t.”
“I am.”
“Sorry is what adults say when they want the talking part to be over.”
Maxwell felt irritation return, followed by shame at feeling irritated with a grieving child whose privacy he had violated.
“What do you want me to do?”
“You’re supposed to know.”
“I don’t.”
“Then stop asking me to teach you.”
She walked past Simone and out of the kitchen.
Simone waited.
“That went well,” Maxwell said.
“No, it didn’t.”
“I was attempting humor.”
“I know.”
Simone looked at the apple slices on the cutting board.
“Those are too thick for Lily.”
“She told me thin.”
“Those are your thin?”
Maxwell looked at them.
Simone shook her head and followed Lucy.
For the next week, Lucy refused visits.
Lily continued attending, though she arrived quieter. She and Maxwell baked boxed brownies in his kitchen during one visit. He misread the measurement and added too much water.
“They look like mud,” Lily said through the oven window.
“They may improve.”
“They won’t.”
They did not.
Lily ate two anyway.
“Lucy says you spy on people,” she said.
Maxwell leaned against the counter.
“I read something private.”
“Why?”
“Because I was selfish.”
Lily scraped brownie from the pan.
“Are you going to do it again?”
“No.”
“You don’t know.”
He looked at her.
She shrugged.
“People say no when they mean they hope not.”
Elizabeth had taught them both to hear promises closely. Lucy challenged them. Lily translated them.
“I will not read her notebook again,” Maxwell said. “Even if she leaves it in front of me.”
“Okay.”
“Do you believe me?”
Lily licked chocolate from the fork.
“Not yet.”
Maxwell began seeing a family therapist recommended by Rebekah.
He disliked the office immediately. The chairs were soft, the lighting indirect, and a miniature sand garden sat on the table as if adults under pressure might become interested in raking gravel.
Dr. Helen Park asked why he wanted guardianship.
“They’re my granddaughters.”
“That describes the relationship, not the reason.”
“They need family.”
“They have the Harrisons.”
“They need permanent family.”
“The Harrisons are willing to provide that.”
Maxwell’s jaw tightened.
“Then why am I here?”
“Because the court asked you to participate.”
“No. Why am I trying?”
Dr. Park waited.
He looked at the sand garden.
“I missed my daughter’s entire life.”
“So the girls are a way to repair that?”
“No.”
“You answered quickly.”
“Because everyone asks the same question.”
“Perhaps it remains unanswered.”
He picked up the tiny wooden rake, then put it down.
“I don’t know how to mourn someone I never met.”
Dr. Park nodded.
“That sounds true.”
“It sounds useless.”
“Truth often is, at first.”
He disliked her slightly less after that.
He told her about the factories his mother had mentioned. He told her about the quarterly approval that kept Nora’s name buried. He admitted that he enjoyed being obeyed more than he liked to acknowledge. He admitted that part of him wanted the court to award him guardianship because losing to the Harrisons would feel like a public declaration that strangers were better for his family than he was.
“They may be,” Dr. Park said.
Maxwell stared at her.
She continued, “At this moment.”
He returned the following week.
Lucy agreed to resume visits after Maxwell wrote her a letter.
May you like
He did not apologize again. Instead he listed what he had done, why it was wrong, and what he would do if curiosity returned. He promised not to ask her to forgive him.
She brought the letter to their next visit, folded into quarters.
