Chương 6
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Silence spread between them.
Megan heard Lily’s laugh faintly in the background.
Not a happy laugh exactly. More a reflex to something Thomas had said.
It still hurt.
“Bring the clothes,” Eleanor said.
Megan packed Lily’s duffel carefully.
Purple pajamas.
Two T-shirts.
Jeans.
Underwear.
Socks.
Hairbrush.
The book Lily had been reading about a girl who solved mysteries at a horse farm.
The stuffed fox she claimed she no longer needed but still slept with whenever there was thunder.
Megan found the fox under Lily’s pillow.
She held it for a moment, then pushed it into the bag.
At the Carter house, she left the duffel on the porch.
She could see the dining room through a side window.
Lily sat with Thomas, working on the green poster board.
Eleanor appeared in the doorway.
Neither woman spoke.
Eleanor picked up the bag.
Megan turned away.
“Wait.”
Megan looked back.
Eleanor stood beneath the porch light.
Her silver-blonde hair was slightly flattened on one side, as if she had been running her hands through it.
“I found something.”
Megan’s heartbeat changed.
“What?”
“Not for you.”
Of course.
Eleanor disappeared inside.
She returned with a small spiral notebook.
Not the hospital calendar.
Daniel’s.
Megan recognized the black electrical tape he had wrapped around the spine after the cover tore.
“Where did you get that?”
“Garage.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“You went through his things?”
Eleanor’s mouth tightened.
“You forged his signature, Megan. Be cautious about climbing onto moral ground.”
Fair.
Megan hated that it was fair.
“What’s in it?”
Eleanor opened to a folded page.
“Work notes. Parts numbers. Complaints about his supervisor. Mostly nonsense.”
“That sounds like Daniel.”
Eleanor’s expression shifted.
For half a second they almost shared him.
Then the moment closed.
“There’s a note dated three days before the accident.”
Megan waited.
Eleanor read, “‘Ask Sloan about temp move. Milwaukee maybe better until I get hours fixed. Need school plan. Don’t let Meg make permanent.’”
Megan gripped the porch railing.
“Patricia Sloan?”
“I assume.”
“He never called her.”
“I don’t know.”
“He didn’t.”
Eleanor closed the notebook.
“He was considering it.”
“Yes.”
Megan looked toward the window.
Lily had left the table.
“Then he wanted us to go.”
“No.”
“It says Milwaukee might be better.”
“It says temporary.”
“That’s what I was trying to do.”
“You bought one-way tickets.”
Megan said nothing.
Eleanor’s eyes sharpened.
“Were you coming back?”
“I didn’t know.”
“That is not temporary.”
“I had nowhere to come back to.”
“You had an apartment.”
“For three more weeks.”
“You could have asked for help.”
“From you?”
“Yes.”
Megan laughed.
Eleanor flinched.
It was small.
Megan saw it anyway.
“You spent nine months documenting every mistake I made,” Megan said.
“I spent nine months trying to keep Lily’s life from collapsing.”
“So did I.”
“You lied to her.”
“So did you.”
Eleanor’s face hardened.
“What did I lie about?”
“Daniel.”
A car passed slowly on the wet street.
Eleanor hugged the notebook against her jacket.
“You let Lily believe he could walk through that door any day.”
“We don’t know that he can’t.”
“You know he chose to leave rehab.”
“He had a brain injury.”
“He withdrew cash.”
“He was confused.”
“He ignored every call.”
“He may not have had his phone.”
“He managed an ATM.”
Eleanor’s eyes flashed.
“You think I haven’t had that conversation with myself every night for seven months?”
Megan stopped.
Eleanor looked older suddenly.
Not weaker.
Older.
“There are mornings,” Eleanor said, “when I wake up furious at him before I remember I don’t know whether he’s alive.”
Megan looked away.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“I meant it.”
“That doesn’t make it useful.”
Eleanor looked toward the house.
“Lily asks whether he left because of her.”
Megan’s chest tightened.
“She never asked me that.”
“She doesn’t ask you everything.”
Megan wanted to say she should.
Instead she asked, “What do you tell her?”
“That he was sick. That adults can make choices that have nothing to do with children.”
“That’s better than what I tell myself.”
Eleanor studied her.
Then she held out Daniel’s notebook.
Megan stared at it.
“Why are you giving me that?”
“I’m not.”
Eleanor opened to the page and took a photograph with her phone.
Then she texted it to Megan.
“You can show your lawyer.”
Megan’s phone buzzed.
She looked at the image.
Daniel’s handwriting leaned forward the way it always had, impatient even when standing still.
Milwaukee maybe better.
Don’t let Meg make permanent.
Both things true on the same line.
It was the most Daniel sentence imaginable.
Megan’s eyes filled.
Eleanor looked away first.
“I still think you should not have Lily tonight,” she said.
Megan nodded.
“I know.”
That answer seemed to disturb Eleanor more than an argument would have.
Megan left.
The next morning, Thomas asked to meet her at a diner.
He was already in a booth when she arrived, beige pants creased sharply down the front, black shoes damp from the parking lot.
He had ordered coffee for both of them.
Megan sat.
“I don’t drink it black.”
“I forgot.”
“You’ve known me thirteen years.”
“I know. That’s why it’s embarrassing.”
She added cream.
Thomas folded a paper napkin into narrower and narrower rectangles.
Megan waited.
Finally he said, “Daniel called me from his truck the night before the accident.”
“Eleanor told me.”
“Not everything.”
Of course not.
Megan put down her coffee.
Thomas looked at the table.
“He said he was scared you’d leave and not come back.”
Megan said nothing.
“He also said he thought maybe leaving was the right thing.”
“For Lily?”
“For all three of you.”
Megan’s throat tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“He thought you two were making each other miserable.”
“That wasn’t exactly private information.”
“No.”
Thomas almost smiled.
“He said Lily had started listening outside your bedroom door when you fought.”
Megan looked away.
May you like
She had caught Lily once.
Eight years old, sitting on the hallway carpet in dinosaur pajamas, pretending she was looking for a crayon.
