Chương 9
Daniel’s face became dangerous.
Henry raised a hand.
Ethan spoke first.
“Vanessa.”
Silence.
“I’m here.”
Her voice changed immediately.
He hated that too.
“Did Mom really ask you to take me places?”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you I hate mushrooms?”
A strange sound came through the phone.
Almost a laugh.
“No. You told me that approximately forty times.”
Ethan looked down.
“Did you love me because Mom told you to?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
He waited.
“I don’t want you to call me.”
Vanessa was silent.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“All right.”
He ended the call himself.
Daniel looked at him.
Ethan handed him the phone.
“I’m going to school.”
“You are in school.”
“I mean my room.”
He left.
By lunchtime, clips from the wedding had spread far beyond the guests.
Most showed Vanessa slapping Laura.
One included Ethan saying his mother’s name.
Another ended just after he raised the USB.
Daniel’s communications team wanted a statement.
Henry wanted no statement.
Laura wanted to tell everyone exactly what Vanessa had done.
Maya wanted everyone to stop sending screenshots to her personal number.
Ethan wanted the internet to forget he existed.
It did not.
His best friend, Noah, texted:
Dude are you okay
Then:
You don’t have to answer
Then, five minutes later:
My mom says I’m not allowed to ask questions so obviously I have like 900 questions
Ethan stared at the messages.
He replied:
wedding sucked
Noah answered:
yeah that seems fair
For ten minutes Ethan felt eleven again.
Then Daniel knocked.
“Can I come in?”
“You already opened the door.”
“I knocked.”
“After.”
Daniel closed it halfway and knocked against the wood again.
Ethan rolled his eyes.
“Come in.”
Daniel sat on the floor instead of the chair.
He looked absurdly large there.
“The school called.”
“Why?”
“The video.”
“Great.”
“They’re concerned about reporters.”
“Reporters aren’t going to school.”
“Apparently one already called the front office.”
Ethan threw his phone onto the bed.
“This is stupid.”
“Yes.”
“You’re famous, not me.”
“I’m not famous.”
“You’re rich enough that people pretend it’s the same.”
Daniel stared.
“That was your mother.”
“What?”
“She said exactly that once.”
“Maybe because it’s true.”
“Probably.”
Ethan pulled his knees up.
“Are they going to show the recording?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not releasing it.”
“What about Vanessa?”
“She doesn’t have it.”
“She might have another copy.”
“Possibly.”
Ethan looked at him.
“What happens to her?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Are you divorcing her?”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
Ethan had expected relief.
Instead he felt something drop inside him.
“You decided already?”
Daniel looked surprised.
“You think I shouldn’t?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ethan.”
“You loved her yesterday.”
Daniel leaned back against the wall.
“Yes.”
“You can stop in one day?”
“No.”
That was another answer Ethan had not expected.
Daniel picked at a thread in the rug.
“I can decide I cannot remain married to someone and still have feelings I don’t know what to do with.”
Ethan considered this.
“Adults are badly designed.”
Daniel smiled.
“Extremely.”
A courier brought Rachel’s missing letter that afternoon.
Vanessa had kept it inside the same envelope for more than eighteen months.
Henry photographed it before anyone touched it unnecessarily.
Daniel read it alone first.
Then he offered it to Ethan.
Ethan shook his head.
“Not now.”
Daniel did not insist.
That evening they ate grilled cheese in the kitchen because nobody had thought about dinner.
Laura burned the first two.
“You’re terrible at this,” Ethan said.
“I have other skills.”
“Name one.”
“I got hit at a wedding and didn’t fall down.”
Daniel laughed before he could stop himself.
Laura looked at him.
For a second the three of them were silent.
Then Laura laughed too.
It felt wrong.
That was why Ethan liked it.
On Monday, Daniel went to his company’s office for the first time since the wedding.
Vanessa had been placed on administrative leave pending an independent review.
The phrase appeared in the statement released by the company.
Ethan did not understand why everyone used language that made events sound as though they were happening to furniture.
Placed on administrative leave.
Independent review.
Family matter.
No comment.
His mother would have hated all of it.
School was worse than he expected and better than he feared.
Most kids said nothing.
Two stared.
One seventh grader he barely knew asked whether his stepmom killed his mother.
Ethan shoved him.
Not hard.
Hard enough.
The dean called Daniel.
Ethan sat in the office staring at a poster about conflict resolution while Daniel drove from Century City.
When his father arrived, he looked irritated.
Good, Ethan thought.
He was tired of everyone acting like he had survived a war.
The dean explained what happened.
Daniel listened.
Then he asked Ethan, “Did you push him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He asked if Vanessa killed Mom.”
The dean looked uncomfortable.
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“And you pushed him.”
“Yes.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I know.”
The dean looked relieved.
Then Daniel added, “But I understand why you did.”
The dean looked less relieved.
In the car, Daniel said, “You’re grounded tonight.”
Ethan stared out the window.
“Fine.”
“And tomorrow.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Probably.”
“Then why?”
“Because understanding something is not the same as approving it.”
Ethan turned.
“That sounds like Mom.”
Daniel gripped the steering wheel.
“I know.”
They drove another block.
Then Ethan asked, “Did Vanessa kill Mom?”
Daniel nearly missed a light.
“No.”
“You know?”
“Your mother died from cancer.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Daniel pulled into a parking lot and stopped.
Cars passed behind them.
“I do not have evidence Vanessa caused your mother’s illness or death.”
“Could she have made her die sooner?”
Daniel’s face changed.
“I don’t know.”
Ethan stared at him.
“I hate that answer.”
“So do I.”
May you like
Later, Rachel’s oncologist would tell Daniel that stress could not be neatly converted into days lost or gained. No doctor could responsibly tell them what a different final month would have changed.
That did not stop Daniel from wanting a number.
