Chương 12
The evidence of intent affected it too.
Nora did not attend the plea hearing. Thomas did.
When he returned, he said Vivienne had spoken only when required. Margaret sat behind her and stared at the floor. Reporters waited outside but lost interest when no one shouted.
“Did she ask about me?” Nora said.
“Yes.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That you’re healthy.”
“And the baby?”
“Healthy.”
Nora nodded.
Thomas waited, perhaps expecting another question.
She had none.
Bellwether House was sold in March.
Margaret moved into a restored carriage house on a smaller property owned by Martin. She called the arrangement temporary even after hanging her paintings.
The new owners retained twenty-eight employees and created severance funds for the rest. The conservation parcel entered a permanent land trust. The foundation sold several works of art that had never been legally restricted, repaid diverted funds, and rebuilt its board.
Thomas did not accept a position with the new owners.
He returned to his architecture practice full-time and rented a modest office in Brooklyn with two partners. For the first month, he complained about the radiator and the coffee machine. Nora found the complaints reassuring. They belonged to a life in which not every inconvenience carried a century of obligation.
Elliot struggled more quietly.
Children at school learned about the engagement dinner from their parents. One boy asked whether Elliot had saved Nora’s baby from a murderer. Another called him a snitch.
Elliot stopped wearing his burgundy bow tie, even to a spring concert where all students were asked to dress formally.
Elise met with his teacher. Nora met with the school counselor. The counselor told them not to make heroism part of his identity.
“He told the truth,” she said. “That was brave, but he should not feel responsible for everything that followed.”
Nora repeated those words to Elliot while they built a cardboard model of the museum’s new exhibition gallery at her kitchen table.
He held a ruler against a piece of foam board.
“Bellwether closed because I told,” he said.
“Bellwether closed because adults made choices before you spoke.”
“But if I didn’t, the dinner would finish.”
“Yes.”
“And you might drink the tea.”
“Maybe.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know.”
He looked dissatisfied.
Nora placed the craft knife out of his reach. “Not knowing is uncomfortable.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t mean we should invent an answer.”
He pressed the ruler harder against the board. “Thomas lost his house.”
“Thomas chose to sell it.”
“Because of Vivienne.”
“Partly.”
“Because of me a little.”
“No.”
“You said everything happened after.”
“After is not the same as because.”
He frowned. “That sounds like a museum label.”
“It does.”
He returned to the foam board.
After a minute, he said, “The wall is crooked.”
“It is.”
“Should we start over?”
Nora examined it. “No. Real galleries have crooked walls.”
“That is not true.”
“It’s more true than you’d think.”
He allowed the imperfection to remain.
Nora and Thomas began couples counseling before setting another wedding date. The first session was unpleasant.
Thomas described feeling permanently tried for his sister’s act. Nora accused him of wanting an acquittal before he had finished testifying. The therapist, a woman named Dr. Feld, stopped them whenever they turned pain into a legal metaphor.
“You are not opposing counsel,” she said.
“We have both hired a lot of lawyers recently,” Thomas replied.
Dr. Feld did not smile.
In later sessions, Thomas learned to say when he feared losing Nora without presenting fear as her responsibility. Nora learned that withholding reassurance could become its own form of punishment.
Neither improved gracefully.
Thomas sometimes defended Margaret out of reflex. Nora sometimes treated hesitation as betrayal. They went home angry, slept badly, and returned the following week.
In April, Nora woke at three in the morning with contractions.
Thomas drove to the hospital while Elise followed with Elliot. The contractions stopped after several hours and were determined not to be labor.
Nothing dramatic happened.
The baby’s heart rate remained steady. Nora was told to hydrate, rest, and return if symptoms changed.
Still, the hospital room brought back the cup.
A nurse placed water beside Nora. Nora stared at it.
Thomas noticed.
He opened a sealed bottle from the vending machine, drank first, and then appeared ashamed of what he had done.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Nora took the bottle from him. “Don’t make a ritual out of it.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Ask.”
He sat beside her bed.
“What do you need?”
“For you to stop treating my fear like a puzzle you can solve.”
He nodded.
After a while, Nora drank.
Elliot arrived wearing pajamas beneath his coat. He stood in the doorway until Nora waved him closer.
“The baby is staying in,” she told him.
“For how long?”
“Hopefully five more weeks.”
He looked at the monitor. “Does the line mean anything?”
“Probably many things.”
A nurse explained it to him with more detail than he wanted. He listened politely, then asked Elise for crackers.
Thomas leaned toward Nora.
“Do you still want to marry me?” he whispered.
She looked at him.
It was an unfair time to ask, which made the question honest.
“Yes,” she said. “Not at Bellwether.”
“I assumed.”
“Not with two hundred people.”
“Fine.”
“Not because we need to prove anything survived.”
He nodded.
“Why, then?” he asked.
Nora watched Elliot attempt to open a cracker package without making noise.
“Because you finally sold the house,” she said.
Thomas laughed so suddenly that the nurse looked over.
Nora smiled. “That was a joke.”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“That’s why we need counseling.”
They chose a date in June at the county courthouse.
Margaret said she would attend, then changed her mind when she learned Nora did not plan to invite Vivienne. Two days later, she changed it back.
“I am not choosing sides,” she told Thomas.
May you like
“Yes, you are,” he said. “You’re choosing to come.”
The morning of the wedding was hot and bright.
