Chapter 5 - Three Weeks
I said yes.
For the next few days, I sorted forty years of possessions into three groups: what I loved, what I could give away, and what I had kept only because I couldn’t bear to make a decision.
Robert’s fishing tackle went to his brother.
The good china went into padded boxes.
I kept the photograph of Stuart with his gap-toothed grin. I didn’t know where to put it, so I left it on the mantel.
On Wednesday, Lily stopped by after school.
She was sixteen and had inherited Robert’s habit of noticing things people wished she wouldn’t.
“Dad says you agreed to Cedar Grove.”
“I agreed to think.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No.”
She sat on a packing box in the hallway.
“Are you moving?”
I could have lied. Instead, I told her I was selling the house and that I hadn’t decided where I would live.
Her eyes filled.
“Because of Thanksgiving?”
“Because of many things.”
“I should’ve said something.”
“You and Max were frightened. Your father is responsible for what he did.”
She wiped her face with her sleeve.
“Mom says you forget stuff all the time. She made a list.”
“What kind of list?”
“She asked me to write down anything weird you did. I thought she meant so we could help you.”
“Did you write anything?”
“I wrote that you called Max by Dad’s name once.”
“I did.” I remembered laughing at myself when it happened. “Your dad and Max were wearing the same blue jacket.”
Lily nodded, then reached into her backpack.
“I took a picture of the list because the rest of it wasn’t true.”
On her phone were entries about a stove left burning, bills unpaid, and a fall on the front steps.
None had happened.
The date beside the supposed fall was the day I had driven Lily to her debate tournament.
I sent the photograph to Helen while Lily was still sitting with me.
May you like
Helen called within five minutes.
“Ines,” she said, “there’s something else. Stuart called your bank this morning.”
