Chương 6
Daniel saw the answer before he heard it.
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing.”
Margaret said, “Richard.”
“Nothing. She left.”
“At nineteen,” Margaret said.
“She was an adult.”
“She had just lost her mother.”
“So had I.”
“And Daniel.”
Richard’s voice rose.
“I was trying to keep one family from disintegrating.”
Margaret stared at him.
“You decided Evelyn was the expendable part.”
Richard turned away.
That silence was confirmation.
Daniel sat again.
He felt suddenly exhausted.
“Did Evelyn call Claire?”
Richard said nothing.
Daniel waited.
Margaret looked between them.
“Richard.”
He exhaled.
“Yes.”
Claire stood.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“No. You knew.”
“I saw her yesterday.”
Daniel looked up.
His father’s composure was fraying.
“Where?”
“At my hotel.”
“Why?”
“She contacted me.”
“What did she want?”
Richard rubbed his forehead.
“She knew Margaret was attending the wedding.”
Daniel looked at Margaret.
“How?”
“I told her.”
“You speak to Evelyn?”
“For six years.”
Richard stared at her.
“You told me you hadn’t.”
Margaret’s expression hardened.
“You lost the privilege of updates.”
Daniel almost smiled despite himself.
Almost.
“Why didn’t she contact me directly?”
“She tried,” Margaret said. “Several times. Letters first. Then email. Your father intercepted some when you were younger. Later, she stopped because she believed forcing herself into your life would punish you for something you didn’t do.”
Richard said, “That is not the entire story.”
“Then tell it.”
Richard looked at Daniel.
“Evelyn hated me.”
“Seems crowded.”
Claire covered her mouth.
For one second, no one was sure whether Daniel had made a joke.
Then Marcus, standing near the elevator, looked down so Daniel would not see his expression.
The moment passed.
Richard sat at last.
“When Susan died, Evelyn wanted to take you.”
Daniel stared.
“She was nineteen.”
“She believed I was unfit.”
“Were you?”
“No.”
Margaret said nothing.
That silence was noticeable.
Richard looked at her.
“I drank too much for a year.”
Margaret raised an eyebrow.
“Two.”
“One badly.”
Daniel remembered whiskey.
Not abstractly.
The smell of it in the kitchen.
His father asleep in a chair.
Evelyn making grilled cheese and burning one side because she had been watching him instead of the pan.
A memory surfaced so suddenly Daniel gripped the edge of the table.
“You said she was a babysitter.”
Richard stared.
Daniel continued.
“After Mom died. There was a girl who stayed with us.”
Richard’s shoulders dropped.
“Yes.”
“Evelyn.”
“Yes.”
“My sister lived in our house, and you told me she was a babysitter.”
“You were eight.”
“I knew what a sister was.”
“She was angry. She was telling you things you were not ready to understand.”
“What things?”
“That Susan wasn’t your biological mother.”
Daniel laughed under his breath.
“So you kicked her out.”
“I asked her to leave after she threatened to take you.”
Margaret leaned forward.
“She threatened to call your mother’s sister because you drove Daniel to school drunk.”
Richard looked at her.
“You weren’t there.”
“No. Evelyn was.”
Daniel’s gaze fixed on his father.
“Did you?”
Richard did not answer.
“Did you drive me drunk?”
“One morning.”
Claire whispered, “Richard.”
He snapped, “I had buried my wife three weeks earlier.”
Daniel stood so fast his chair scraped backward.
“And that made the road safer?”
“I’m not defending it.”
“You just did.”
Richard’s anger collapsed as quickly as it appeared.
“No.”
He looked at his hands.
“No, I did.”
For a while, no one spoke.
A server at the far side of the rooftop stacked plates.
Ceramic clicked against ceramic.
Daniel noticed the absurdity again. The city kept demanding normal tasks from people.
He looked at Margaret.
“What happened to you after you gave me to them?”
She seemed surprised by the question.
“I went back to work.”
“That’s it?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
She looked at the table.
“For the first year, I called every month.”
Richard stiffened.
“Susan answered sometimes. Your father other times. I was allowed to hear about you.”
“Allowed.”
“Yes.”
“Did you see me?”
“Twice.”
Daniel’s chest tightened.
“When?”
“At six months. Then just before you turned two.”
“Would I remember?”
“No.”
“What happened after that?”
Margaret’s fingers tightened.
“Richard asked me to stop calling.”
Richard said, “Susan was struggling.”
“With what?”
“With the arrangement.”
Margaret looked at Daniel.
“She loved you. I need you to know that.”
“I do.”
His answer came instantly.
Margaret nodded.
A strange relief crossed her face.
“She loved you so much that eventually knowing I existed became painful. She worried I would change my mind.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Richard looked up.
Daniel stared at Margaret.
“When?”
“All the time.”
The words barely carried.
“But wanting you back and being able to take you back were not the same thing. By the time I was stable, you were four. You called Susan Mom. You had a sister. A room. Friends. A life.”
“So you stayed away.”
“Yes.”
“For my sake.”
Margaret hesitated.
“No.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Not only for yours.”
The honesty made him angry in a new way.
“I was ashamed,” she said. “Every year I stayed away made the next year harder. I told myself I was protecting you because that sounded better than admitting I was afraid you would hate me.”
Daniel looked down.
“Good prediction.”
Claire flinched.
Margaret did not.
“I know.”
The elevator doors opened.
Everyone turned.
A woman stepped onto the rooftop.
She was in her early forties, wearing black trousers, a white blouse, and flat shoes. Dark hair cut to her jaw. No makeup except lipstick that had mostly worn off.
Daniel knew her before anyone said her name.
Not from resemblance.
From memory.
The black coat at Susan’s funeral.
Grilled cheese burned on one side.
A hand on his shoulder.
Danny.
Evelyn stopped when she saw him.
Richard stood.
“What are you doing here?”
Evelyn looked at him.
“I’m beginning to think that question runs in the family.”
Daniel stared.
She looked at Margaret’s cheek.
Her expression changed.
“What happened?”
May you like
Claire said, “I hit her.”
Evelyn turned toward Claire.
