Chương 8
“What was the plan?”
She said nothing.
“Mom.”
“I thought she would leave.”
“Leave where?”
“Chicago.”
“Why?”
“Because she had the offer.”
“She turned it down.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Margaret’s eyes flashed.
“Do not talk to me about asking questions.”
The cruelty of it was so precise that Alexander almost admired it.
Almost.
She continued, “You believed the letter.”
He looked at her.
“You believed it because some part of you wanted to.”
“Yes.”
The answer seemed to surprise her.
He leaned forward.
“That is mine. I will live with that. You don’t get to use my cowardice to make your cruelty smaller.”
Margaret’s face tightened.
“I was terrified.”
It was the first honest sentence she had given him.
Alexander waited.
“Your father was unconscious. The lenders were threatening to walk. You were talking about resigning. Victoria hated what this family required from you. I thought if she told you about a baby, you would disappear into that life and leave everything else to collapse.”
“I might have.”
“I know.”
“That was my choice.”
“Yes.”
“You stole it.”
Margaret looked down.
The room became quiet except for the old refrigerator motor in the kitchen.
Alexander remembered that refrigerator from childhood. His mother could afford to replace every appliance in the building and had refused because she liked the way the handle felt.
People were ridiculous that way.
They could alter another person’s life and keep a refrigerator for sentiment.
“What did you think would happen to the child?” he asked.
Margaret closed her eyes.
“I told myself Victoria would contact you again when things stabilized.”
“She did.”
Margaret said nothing.
“You intercepted messages.”
“I told Linda not to put anything from Victoria in front of you.”
Alexander’s hand tightened on his knee.
“Why?”
“Because every time her name appeared, you stopped functioning.”
“That is not true.”
“You broke a glass in your office when Beth mentioned Boston.”
“I was angry.”
“You missed a lender meeting.”
“I was at the hospital with Dad.”
“You see? Even now you rewrite things.”
Alexander stood.
Margaret looked up.
“You did not keep her from me because I was weak,” he said. “You kept her from me because you did not trust me to choose the life you wanted.”
“I chose the life that kept you standing.”
“No.”
He picked up his coat.
“You chose the life that kept me close.”
Margaret’s voice sharpened.
“If you walk out now, do not pretend you are doing it for that child. You barely know her.”
Alexander stopped.
For a moment something ugly rose in him.
He wanted to say something unforgivable.
Instead he turned around.
“You’re right.”
Margaret blinked.
“I barely know her.”
His voice dropped.
“That is the point.”
He left.
Victoria did not hear that story then.
What she saw was Alexander learning how to occupy a place at the edge of Sophie’s life.
Their first meeting took place in Dr. Miriam Cole’s office, which Sophie disliked because the waiting room had toys she considered “for babies.”
Alexander arrived without a gift.
Dr. Cole had specifically advised against gifts.
He did bring a photograph of Franklin.
Sophie looked at it for approximately two seconds.
“He’s fat.”
Alexander nodded.
“He prefers broad-shouldered.”
“He’s fat.”
“His veterinarian used a more complicated word, but yes.”
Sophie looked at him.
Victoria watched recognition occur in a way DNA never captured.
Their humor matched.
Not exactly.
But enough.
Sophie sat on the carpet.
Alexander remained in the chair until she asked why.
“Dr. Cole told me to let you choose how close I sit.”
Sophie frowned at the therapist.
“That’s weird.”
Dr. Cole smiled.
“It can feel weird.”
“Can he sit here?”
She pointed to the carpet six feet away.
Alexander looked at Victoria.
Victoria nodded.
He sat.
His tuxedo confidence from the boat disappeared instantly when he crossed his legs on the floor and realized his knee hurt.
Sophie noticed.
“You’re old.”
“I’m thirty-nine.”
“That’s old.”
Victoria looked at the window because she did not trust her face.
Alexander said, “Your mom is thirty-four.”
Sophie considered this.
“She’s medium.”
The meeting lasted thirty-five minutes.
They talked about Franklin, school lunches, a science project involving bean plants, and whether Alexander liked roller coasters.
He did not ask Sophie to call him Dad.
He did not touch her.
At the end she said, “Can I see your dog next time?”
Alexander glanced toward Dr. Cole.
The therapist said, “What does Mom think?”
Victoria hated being the person everyone looked at.
“Maybe outside. At a park.”
Alexander nodded immediately.
Sophie rolled her eyes.
“You two agree a lot.”
Victoria nearly laughed.
“You have no idea.”
The second meeting was worse.
Franklin knocked Sophie down.
Not violently.
Enthusiastically.
He was a seventy-pound black Labrador with no respect for human dignity.
Sophie landed on wet grass, stared at the dog, and burst into tears.
Alexander went white.
“Oh my God. Sophie, I’m sorry. Franklin, no.”
He grabbed the dog’s collar.
Victoria reached Sophie first.
“Are you hurt?”
“My dress!”
It was not a dress.
It was a sweatshirt.
It had mud on it.
Victoria checked knees, elbows, hands.
Nothing.
Sophie cried harder.
Alexander stood several feet away holding Franklin as though restraining a criminal suspect.
“I can pay for—”
Victoria looked up.
“Do not finish that sentence.”
He stopped.
Sophie sniffed.
“My shirt is ruined.”
“It will wash.”
“It’s my favorite.”
“We own laundry detergent.”
Alexander said carefully, “Franklin also has mud on him, if that helps.”
Sophie looked at the dog.
Franklin wagged.
She laughed through her tears.
Alexander’s shoulders dropped.
Victoria saw it.
Something in her softened.
She resented that too.
After six supervised visits, Dr. Cole recommended they try an hour without Victoria in the same room.
Victoria said no.
Then yes.
Then changed it to forty-five minutes.
Alexander did not argue.
May you like
He took Sophie to a children’s science museum while Victoria sat in the café two floors below pretending to work.
She checked the time every three minutes.
