Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE GONE
Nobody moved until the restaurant door slammed behind Martha.
Then every table began talking at once.
Nick lowered the microphone.
The woman in navy came straight toward me, but stopped before she reached my chair.
“I’m Ruth,” she said.
“Nick’s aunt.”
I looked at him.
“You told me your aunt lived overseas.”
“That’s what Mom told me.”
Ruth’s mouth tightened.
“I live forty minutes from here.”
There were a hundred questions in that sentence.
I couldn’t hold even one of them.
My scalp hurt.
Tiny loose hairs clung to the neckline of my wedding dress.
Ruth noticed me rubbing my neck.
“Would you like everyone to stop looking at you?”
I nodded.
She turned to the restaurant manager.
“Could we have a private room?”
No speech.
No demand that I be brave.
Just a door that could close.
Lena came with us.
Nick followed, carrying my braid in a clean cloth napkin.
Seeing it nearly broke me again.
“Put it down,” I whispered.
He set it on a side table.
Then I looked at him.
“You left.”
“I called Ruth. She was outside. I’d invited her earlier this week, but she didn’t want to walk in without me.”
“You left me standing there.”
His eyes dropped.
“I thought bringing her in would stop Mom.”
“Your mother had already stopped cutting.”
The room went silent.
Nick sat across from me.
“You’re right.”
I had expected an explanation.
A defense.
Something about shock.
Instead, he looked at my ruined hair and said, “I should have stayed.”
Ruth waited until I looked at her again.
“Why did she run when she saw you?”
“Because your husband asked me a question three weeks ago.”
“What question?”
“Whether his grandmother really wanted him to sell her house.”
Nick leaned forward.
“Grandma left me the house. Mom handles the paperwork. She’s been pushing us to sell since we got engaged.”
I knew.
Martha had called the house too old, too small, too far from the neighborhood we belonged in.
She had already found us a condo.
One we couldn’t afford without selling.
Ruth opened her purse but left the envelope inside.
“Your grandmother asked me to keep certain documents,” she said.
“Martha knows that.”
My phone vibrated in Lena’s hand.
Then Nick’s.
Then Ruth’s.
Three messages from Martha.
Mine said:
I hope you’re happy. You turned my own son against me.
Nick read his message without speaking.
Ruth looked at hers and went very still.
“What?” I asked.
May you like
She turned the screen toward us.
If you open that envelope, you’ll destroy this family.
