Chương 5
“My mother spent two years asking when I planned to remarry.”
“Until you picked me.”
Ethan lowered his hand.
There was history in the sentence.
He had not known how much.
Vanessa picked up her bag.
“I did not hurt him.”
“You scared him.”
“Children get scared when adults tell them no.”
“Yes.”
She stared at him.
He continued.
“But tonight he said your name and hid his face.”
Her mouth trembled.
“He was tired.”
“Maybe.”
“You want to believe her.”
“No.”
“You do.”
Ethan looked at the dark kitchen window. His reflection stood over Vanessa’s shoulder, black suit, black shirt, silver watch, a man dressed as if control were something tailoring could provide.
“I want her to be wrong.”
Vanessa’s expression softened.
For one second, he saw the woman he had married.
Then she said, “She is.”
Ethan looked back at her.
“Then checking won’t hurt you.”
The softness disappeared.
“You’re going through my phone?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What are you checking?”
“Everything I can check without invading what I don’t have a right to.”
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“It isn’t.”
“You already called a lawyer.”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“You haven’t?”
“No.”
For some reason, that seemed to hurt her more.
“Why not?”
“Because my son fell asleep twenty minutes ago.”
Vanessa looked at him as though he had moved somewhere she could not follow.
Then she lifted her bag.
“Tell Owen I’m leaving.”
“He knows.”
“Of course he does.”
She walked toward the foyer.
Ethan followed.
At the front doors, she stopped and turned.
“You should ask Maria why she waited.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“She was afraid you’d fire her.”
“That isn’t the only reason.”
“What is?”
Vanessa hesitated.
Then shook her head.
“Ask her.”
She left.
The doors closed behind her.
Ethan stood in the foyer for a long time.
Owen remained by the wall.
Finally Ethan said, “You heard that.”
“I heard enough.”
“Forget it.”
Owen’s eyebrows lifted.
“Meaning?”
“Don’t discuss it.”
“I don’t.”
“I know.”
Ethan looked toward the staircase.
“What did she mean about Maria?”
“I couldn’t tell you.”
“You know everything that happens in this house.”
“No, sir.”
“Feels like everyone does except me.”
Owen gave him a look that might have been sympathy if Owen allowed himself such things on duty.
“Most people know pieces.”
Ethan pressed his thumb into his watchband again.
“Apparently pieces matter.”
At six fourteen the next morning, Noah woke screaming.
Ethan had slept in the chair beside the crib.
He startled awake with a pain in his neck and found his son standing, both hands wrapped around the rails.
“Hey, hey.”
Noah reached for him.
Ethan lifted him out.
The crying stopped faster than it had the night before.
Noah rested his cheek against Ethan’s shoulder.
Ethan walked slow circles around the room.
On the dresser, Claire’s photograph caught the gray morning light.
Noah noticed it.
“Mama.”
Ethan stopped.
“Yeah.”
Noah pointed.
“Mama Claire.”
“Yeah.”
“Gone.”
The word was clear.
Ethan’s stomach tightened.
“Who told you that?”
Noah put his thumb in his mouth.
Ethan closed his eyes.
Wrong question.
He kissed the top of his son’s head.
“Sorry.”
Noah had already stopped listening.
He wanted down.
Ethan put him on the floor.
The boy immediately crouched beside a wooden truck and pushed it into the leg of the dresser repeatedly.
Ethan sat on the carpet in yesterday’s suit pants and watched.
A minute later, Maria appeared at the open door.
She was in her beige-and-brown uniform, hair pinned in the same neat low bun, though her eyes were swollen from lack of sleep.
“You’re early,” Ethan said.
“I never went home.”
He looked at her.
“I slept in the staff room.”
“Why?”
She shrugged.
“I didn’t want to be far.”
“You live twelve minutes away.”
“Fourteen if school traffic starts.”
Ethan glanced at the clock.
“It’s six in the morning.”
“I know.”
He almost told her she should have gone home.
Instead he said, “Coffee?”
Maria seemed surprised.
“Yes.”
They took Noah downstairs.
Ethan made coffee strong enough that Maria added more milk than usual.
He knew what she usually did because he had seen her drinking coffee hundreds of times.
He had never noticed until that morning.
Noah ate blueberries one at a time, inspecting each one before putting it in his mouth.
Ethan sat across from Maria.
“What did Vanessa mean?”
Maria lowered her cup.
“About what?”
“When she left. She said I should ask why you waited.”
Maria’s shoulders stiffened.
“You already asked.”
“She said there was another reason.”
Maria looked at Noah.
He had smashed one blueberry on the tray and was studying his purple finger.
“Maria.”
“I was trying to decide if I was imagining it.”
“What?”
“That she was trying to replace Claire instead of just becoming part of his life.”
Ethan said nothing.
Maria continued.
“At first she was good with him.”
“I know.”
“She was.”
“I know.”
“He liked her.”
Ethan stared at the coffee.
“That matters.”
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
Maria rubbed her thumb along the cup handle.
“The wedding, maybe.”
“You think marriage changed her.”
“I think marriage changed what she thought she was allowed to ask for.”
Ethan looked up.
Maria immediately shook her head.
“I don’t mean money.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“She started correcting what Noah called her.”
“What did he call her before?”
“Nessa.”
Ethan remembered that.
Noah had said it at the rehearsal dinner.
Everyone laughed.
Vanessa had laughed too.
“He couldn’t say Vanessa.”
“He still can’t.”
“Now he says Vessa.”
Maria nodded.
“She used to like it.”
“What else?”
“She moved Claire’s things.”
“I know about the picture.”
“Not just that.”
Ethan’s expression changed.
Maria stood.
“Come.”
He followed her to a small storage room off the upstairs linen hall.
Maria opened a cabinet.
Inside were three framed photographs, a knitted blanket, two books and a small ceramic dish Ethan recognized immediately.
Claire used to keep her rings in it when she washed her face.
May you like
Ethan stared.
“When did these come here?”
