Chương 15
“You sure?”
“No.”
Gail nodded.
“Deadline at four.”
“Cruel.”
“That’s why they pay me.”
Claire returned to the article.
At five thirty she closed her laptop.
No celebration.
Rachel called.
Eleanor texted.
Miriam sent a thumbs-up, then immediately followed it with:
Sorry. That looked weird.
Claire laughed.
She walked home.
She had moved from the temporary apartment into a small brick townhouse with narrow stairs and terrible closet space.
She loved it.
Not because it symbolized independence.
Because the kitchen got morning light.
Because the neighbor’s cat slept on her back steps.
Because there was a bakery three blocks away that sold cardamom rolls on Saturdays.
Because the upstairs bathroom faucet squeaked and she kept forgetting to fix it.
Normal reasons.
Eleanor came by that spring.
She carried a cardboard box.
Claire opened the door.
“What is that?”
“Things from the house.”
“I took my things.”
“Not these.”
Claire let her in.
Inside the box were photographs.
Wedding albums.
A Christmas ornament.
Two books.
A blue ceramic bowl Claire thought she had lost.
And the presentation case for Daniel’s watch.
Empty.
Claire stared at it.
Eleanor touched the lid.
“I thought you should decide.”
“Why would I want this?”
“You chose the engraving.”
Claire looked at her.
“I chose a lot of things.”
Eleanor nodded.
Claire picked up the case.
Dark leather.
Cream lining.
Perfect indentation where the watch used to rest.
For years Daniel had placed the watch there every night.
Then eventually he stopped.
He wore it constantly.
Even slept in it sometimes.
Claire used to tease him.
Afraid time will leave without you?
She had forgotten saying that until the empty case triggered it.
Memory arrived without permission.
Daniel standing at the bathroom sink.
Foam on his jaw.
Watch still on his wrist.
His smile in the mirror.
Maybe.
Claire closed the case.
“I don’t want it.”
Eleanor nodded.
Claire handed it back.
Eleanor did not take it.
“I don’t either.”
They stood facing each other.
Finally Claire said, “Trash.”
Eleanor looked almost offended.
“It’s Italian leather.”
Claire started laughing.
Eleanor did too.
They threw it away.
Not ceremonially.
Claire’s kitchen trash was nearly full, so the box landed crooked on top of coffee grounds, onion skins, and a takeout container.
Eleanor frowned.
“You need a larger trash can.”
“There she is.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
They made tea.
Later, while Eleanor stood at the window watching the neighbor’s cat stalk something beneath the hedge, she said, “I visited Daniel.”
Claire’s hand stopped over the sugar bowl.
“When?”
“Last week.”
Claire waited.
“He looks thin.”
Claire said nothing.
“He asked about you.”
“No.”
“I didn’t tell him anything.”
Claire breathed again.
Eleanor turned from the window.
“I told him he doesn’t get to ask.”
Claire looked at her.
“How did that go?”
“He said I was cruel.”
Claire raised an eyebrow.
“Ironic.”
“I thought so.”
Eleanor sat.
“He said he’s trying to understand how he became capable of what he did.”
Claire stirred tea she did not need to stir.
“And?”
“I told him understanding is not the same as undoing.”
Claire looked at Eleanor for a long time.
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“It was. I practiced in the parking lot.”
Claire smiled.
Eleanor’s expression softened.
“He cried.”
Claire looked down.
She waited for satisfaction.
None came.
Only tiredness.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Claire nodded.
They drank tea.
Two years after the Sunday lunch, Claire received a package at work.
No return name.
Security opened it first because Gail had created rules after the trial and refused to stop enforcing them.
Inside was Daniel’s watch.
Claire stared through the conference-room glass.
The watch had been released from evidence after appeals related to the relevant conviction were resolved and ownership questions were settled.
A letter from Eleanor lay beneath it.
I cannot keep this.
Claire called her.
“You sent it to my office?”
“I didn’t want it at your home.”
“Fair.”
“Do you want me to take it back?”
“No.”
“What will you do?”
Claire looked at the watch.
The blood was gone.
Professionally cleaned, perhaps.
The cracked crystal had not been repaired.
The initials remained.
D.W.
Claire touched the conference table.
“I don’t know.”
Eleanor said, “You don’t have to decide today.”
The sentence irritated Claire.
Then comforted her.
“Okay.”
She put the watch in her desk drawer.
For three months it stayed there.
Sometimes she forgot it existed.
Then she would open the drawer for a stapler and see the cracked face.
One afternoon Ethan noticed.
“Is that the watch?”
Claire looked at him.
He immediately raised both hands.
“Sorry.”
“Yes.”
He hesitated.
“Why do you keep it?”
“I don’t know.”
“That seems healthy.”
“Thank you, Winston’s father.”
“He’s doing very well, by the way.”
“You still follow your ex-wife’s dog account?”
“It’s a shared custody situation emotionally.”
Claire shook her head.
Ethan left.
Claire opened the drawer.
The watch still showed the time it had stopped after hitting Daniel’s plate.
One thirteen.
She had never noticed.
Sunday lunch.
She picked it up.
For a long time she stood by the office window.
Below, people crossed the street carrying coffees, bags, umbrellas.
A bicycle courier yelled at a taxi.
A woman stopped to retie a child’s shoe.
No one knew what Claire held.
That felt important.
For two years the watch had been evidence.
Headline.
Weapon.
Proof.
Marriage.
Betrayal.
Eleanor’s gift.
Daniel’s vanity.
Voss’s collateral.
Claire’s survival.
Too many meanings had accumulated on one object.
She suddenly wanted it to be only metal.
She walked six blocks to a jeweler.
The man behind the counter examined it.
“Nice piece.”
Claire almost laughed.
“Can you remove the engraving?”
He turned it over.
“Yes.”
“And replace the crystal?”
“Sure.”
She paused.
“No.”
He looked up.
“No crystal?”
“Leave the crack.”
He shrugged.
“Your watch.”
Claire almost corrected him.
Then stopped.
“Yes.”
A week later she returned.
The initials were gone.
A faint polished rectangle remained where they had been.
Claire paid.
She wore the watch out of the store.
It felt heavy.
Wrong.
She made it half a block before taking it off.
Then she laughed at herself.
Of course.
Healing did not require wearing the evidence.
She put it in her purse.
At home she placed it in the blue ceramic bowl Eleanor had returned.
For a while that was where it stayed.
Months passed.
One Sunday afternoon Eleanor invited Claire to lunch.
Claire nearly declined.
Then she went.
The dining room had changed.
Not dramatically.
New tablecloth.
Fewer flowers.
The damaged plate set had been replaced.
Eleanor served fried chicken because she said refusing to cook it forever would be “letting Daniel control poultry from prison.”
Claire stared at her.
“That might be the strangest thing you’ve ever said.”
“I’ve had two glasses of wine.”
“It’s one fifteen.”
“I’m retired.”
Claire laughed.
They ate.
No police.
No broken china.
No blood.
At one point Eleanor reached for a biscuit and knocked her water glass against another.
Crystal rang.
Claire froze.
Her body reacted before the room could become the present again.
Eleanor saw.
She did not apologize.
Did not reach for Claire.
Did not say calm down.
She simply moved her hand away from the glasses and waited.
Claire breathed.
One breath.
Another.
The sound became only glass.
“I’m okay,” Claire said.
Eleanor nodded.
“I know.”
Claire gave her a look.
Eleanor corrected herself.
“I believe you.”
Better.
After lunch Claire helped clear the table.
At the sink, Eleanor handed her a plate.
Claire stopped.
Gold rim.
Not the same pattern.
Close enough.
Eleanor saw where she was looking.
“I can replace them.”
“No.”
“You sure?”
Claire took the plate.
“Yes.”
She washed it.
Water ran warm over her hands.
Behind her, Eleanor complained about the new gardener trimming the hydrangeas too aggressively.
Claire told her the plants would survive.
Eleanor said that was not the point.
They argued for five minutes about hydrangeas.
Then Claire dried the plate and returned it to the cabinet.
Before leaving, she paused in the doorway of the dining room.
The afternoon light came through the ivory curtains.
Flowers sat at the center of the table.
A basket held two biscuits no one had eaten.
For a fraction of a second she could see everything superimposed.
Daniel with chicken in his hand.
Hale watching him.
Brooks behind her.
Eleanor gripping pearls.
The watch spinning across broken china.
Then the image loosened.
The room returned to itself.
Claire stepped into the hallway.
Eleanor called from the kitchen.
“You forgot something.”
Claire turned.
Eleanor came toward her holding the watch.
Claire looked at it.
“How did you get that?”
“You left your purse open.”
“You went through my purse?”
“I saw it.”
“That is going through my purse with better public relations.”
Eleanor held out the watch.
Claire took it.
The polished rectangle where Daniel’s initials had been caught the light.
Eleanor touched it lightly.
“You removed them.”
“Yes.”
“Why keep the watch?”
Claire considered lying.
Then did not.
“Because throwing it away felt like pretending it meant nothing.”
Eleanor nodded.
“And keeping the initials felt like pretending it still belonged to him.”
Another nod.
Claire fastened the watch around her wrist.
Not because she had planned to.
Not because it suddenly felt right.
It didn’t.
The bracelet was slightly too large.
Daniel’s wrist had been broader.
The watch slid toward her hand.
Eleanor said, “A jeweler can resize that.”
Claire looked at her.
“I know.”
Outside, a car passed along the quiet street.
Somewhere nearby, a lawn mower started.
Claire walked to the front door.
Eleanor followed.
“Call me when you get home.”
“You know you say that every time.”
“Yes.”
“I’m thirty-six.”
“Yes.”
“I survived an attempted murder.”
“That has not made me less interested in basic road safety.”
Claire opened the door.
Warm light crossed the porch.
She stepped outside.
The watch slipped again.
She pushed it back up her wrist.
For the first time, the cracked face showed the wrong time without seeming frozen.
Just wrong.
Something that could be adjusted.
Claire stood beside her car and pulled out the crown.
The mechanism resisted.
She tried again.
The hands moved.
She set the watch to the correct time.
Then she looked through the open doorway.
Eleanor was still standing there.
“You can go inside,” Claire said.
“I know.”
“You’re letting mosquitoes in.”
“I know.”
Claire smiled.
Eleanor lifted one hand.
Claire got into the car.
She did not check the rearview mirror five times.
May you like
Only twice.
She started the engine and drove away while the watch ticked quietly against her wrist, its cracked face catching small pieces of afternoon sunlight, keeping time that belonged to no one but the person carrying it now.
