Chapter 14 - No Speeches
I almost said no.
Then Luke asked whether Diane would have the square cookies again.
“Probably.”
“Then we should go.”
Three-year-olds have a clear way of weighing risk.
The lunch was small.
Diane. Mark. Emily, who had come on her own. Rachel, because I had asked her to.
And the boys.
No cousins.
No phones held above anyone’s head.
Diane met us at the door.
“I put the breakable things away,” she said.
Owen looked concerned.
“Did they break?”
“Not yet.”
He nodded as though this was good planning.
For the first half hour, nothing happened.
That was the best part.
Luke spilled water.
Mark reached for a towel.
Owen refused peas.
Diane gave him carrots.
Emily asked the boys what they thought the baby would like.
“Milk,” Luke said.
“Dinosaurs,” Owen added.
“Probably in that order,” she said.
I watched her laugh.
There was still distance between her and Mark. It showed in where they sat, in the careful way he asked whether she needed anything.
But it belonged to them.
I didn’t have to solve it.
Then Diane brought out an old family album.
Luke pointed at a picture of Mark as a child.
“That’s me.”
Mark shook his head.
“That’s me when I was little.”
Luke leaned closer.
“Why do you have my face?”
Everyone laughed.
Even I did.
Then Owen looked up.
“Where were you when we were little?”
The laughter stopped.
Mark set his glass down.
I felt the old urge to rescue the room.
Explain.
Soften.
Make the hard thing pass quickly.
I kept my mouth shut.
Mark turned toward Owen.
“I wasn’t there.”
“Why?”
“The grown-ups had problems we didn’t handle well.”
“Were you mad at us?”
“No.”
Mark’s voice broke on the word.
He tried again.
“No. Never at you.”
Luke watched him carefully.
“Are you going away again?”
“I’m planning to keep showing up,” Mark said. “And if plans change, I’ll tell you.”
It was less comforting than forever.
It was also a promise he might actually keep.
After lunch, Diane stopped me in the kitchen.
“I should have spoken at that Thanksgiving.”
“Yes.”
“I thought keeping the peace meant keeping quiet.”
“There wasn’t peace. I was just the only one paying for the silence.”
She nodded.
“I understand.”
From the dining room, we heard a sharp crash.
I turned.
Mark’s glass lay in pieces beside his chair.
Owen stood frozen, both hands over his mouth.
May you like
Every adult stopped.
This time, Mark was the one who had to decide what happened next.
