Chương 12
Please stop calling it my employment like there is still a normal job to go back to.
The typing indicator appeared.
Disappeared.
Returned.
Finally:
That’s fair.
Claire threw the phone onto the couch.
“Of course it is,” she muttered.
The next day, Lillian arrived at Claire’s apartment at 9:08 in the morning.
Claire knew the exact time because she had started checking clocks even more obsessively.
She opened the door and stared.
Lillian stood in the hallway wearing a cream sweater, dark trousers, and low shoes Claire had never seen. Without the navy dress, silver earrings, and high black heels, she looked smaller.
Still wealthy.
Still unmistakably Lillian.
But smaller.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to speak to you.”
“How did you get my address?”
Lillian’s expression shifted.
“You work for me.”
“Worked.”
“Your personnel records contain your address.”
Claire tightened her grip on the door.
“That doesn’t mean you should come here.”
“I called.”
“I didn’t answer.”
“I noticed.”
Claire almost closed the door.
Then Lillian said, “I’m sorry.”
Claire stopped.
The hallway became very quiet.
A television murmured behind another apartment door.
Somebody upstairs dropped something heavy.
Claire looked at Lillian’s face.
“For what?”
Lillian’s mouth tightened.
Claire nearly laughed.
Even now, the woman wanted an apology with favorable terms.
“For accusing you.”
Claire waited.
“Of?”
Lillian looked away.
“The recorder.”
“You said I planted it to blackmail you.”
“I know what I said.”
“Say it.”
Lillian’s eyes returned.
Claire could see anger.
And embarrassment.
And something like fear.
“I am sorry I accused you of putting the recorder in my purse to blackmail us.”
Claire’s chest loosened slightly.
“Did you put it there?”
Lillian’s face closed.
Claire nodded.
“Okay.”
She started to shut the door.
Lillian put one hand against it.
Not forcefully.
“Wait.”
“Take your hand off my door.”
Lillian did.
Immediately.
That surprised Claire.
“I need five minutes.”
“You had thirteen months.”
“For what?”
“To speak to me like a person.”
The sentence hurt them both.
Claire saw it.
Lillian swallowed.
“That’s fair.”
Claire stared at her.
“Graham’s doing it too now.”
“Doing what?”
“Saying everything is fair.”
For a second, Lillian’s mouth almost smiled.
Claire opened the door wider.
“Five minutes.”
Her apartment seemed smaller with Lillian inside it.
Claire hated noticing.
The old couch looked older.
The kitchen counters looked cheaper.
A pair of socks she had left near the laundry basket suddenly became an international embarrassment.
Lillian noticed none of it visibly.
Or pretended not to.
Claire pointed toward the table.
“You can sit.”
Lillian sat.
Claire remained standing.
Her father’s burned-toast photograph was still held to the refrigerator with the Bar Harbor magnet.
Lillian looked at it.
“Is your father all right?”
Claire folded her arms.
“Don’t.”
Lillian looked back.
“What?”
“Don’t ask about him when you want something.”
The accusation landed.
Lillian’s expression tightened.
“I did that, didn’t I?”
“Yesterday.”
“No. Before.”
Claire said nothing.
Lillian looked at her hands.
“The loan.”
Claire’s anger sharpened.
“I paid you back.”
“I know.”
“Every dollar.”
“I know.”
“Then what?”
“I used it.”
Claire stared.
Lillian rubbed the inside of her wrist.
The same motion.
“I told myself I was reminding you that I had been flexible.”
“You were reminding me I owed you.”
“Yes.”
Claire had not expected agreement.
It made anger harder to organize.
“Why are you here?”
Lillian looked toward the window.
“I was recording Graham.”
Claire’s stomach dropped.
There it was.
Plain.
No performance.
“Why?”
“Because I thought he was planning to leave.”
“He was.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t explain the recorder.”
“No.”
Claire waited.
Lillian looked at her.
“I wanted to know what he said when I wasn’t there.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Yes.”
Claire almost laughed.
“You’re doing it now too.”
“What?”
“Agreeing when I insult you.”
Lillian gave a faint, exhausted smile.
“Maybe he and I still have something in common.”
Claire did not smile back.
Lillian looked down again.
“At first, I put it in his office twice.”
“At first?”
“Then other places.”
Claire’s skin went cold.
“Were you recording me?”
“Not intentionally.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No. I was not trying to record you.”
“But you did.”
“Possibly.”
Claire stared.
“Thirty-seven times.”
Lillian’s head came up.
“Graham accessed the account?”
“He saw the session list.”
Her face hardened.
“That was private.”
Claire laughed.
The sound was sharp enough to make Lillian flinch.
“Private.”
“I hear it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Claire walked to the kitchen sink and back.
“Why put it in your purse yesterday?”
Lillian’s mouth tightened.
“I was afraid you were going to tell him.”
“About the recorder?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You saw me with it.”
“I had seen you before.”
“Yesterday you looked at me differently.”
Claire almost denied it.
Then remembered.
She had.
In the hallway, when Lillian slipped the black rectangle into her pocket, Claire had stopped pretending not to understand.
She had looked directly at Lillian.
Perhaps that was all.
Lillian had seen recognition.
“What were you going to do?” Claire asked.
“I hadn’t decided.”
“Then why ask about my dad?”
Lillian closed her eyes.
Claire’s stomach turned.
“You were reminding me.”
“Yes.”
“That you had helped me.”
“Yes.”
“So I would stay quiet.”
Lillian opened her eyes.
“Yes.”
Claire stepped away from the table.
“Jesus.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re right.”
“Stop agreeing with me.”
Lillian looked almost offended.
Claire laughed once.
Then the laugh vanished.
“You put the recorder in your purse so you could say I did it.”
Lillian did not answer.
Claire felt tears rise.
“Say it.”
Lillian looked at the refrigerator.
The burned toast.
The grocery receipt.
Anything except Claire.
“I panicked.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I thought if Graham believed you had been recording the house, then anything you said about seeing me with the device would sound like retaliation.”
Claire stared at her.
The cruelty of it took several seconds to become fully visible.
“You were going to make me look insane.”
“No.”
May you like
“A liar.”
“I was trying to protect my marriage.”
