“But, Mieka, if you were asleep in a different room …”
“I wasn’t in a different room, Mum. I was with Charlie.” She looked away. “I’m sorry, Mum.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” I said. I peered into my purse, found Margot’s card, and handed it to Charlie. “This is the number of your father’s lawyer. Call her or don’t call her. Your choice.”
When I left, nobody waved goodbye.
Driving home, I made a conscious effort not to think about anything beyond the consolations of a hot shower, warm pyjamas, and a long nap. Half an hour later, clean and in my favourite flannelettes, I thought sleep would be possible, but I was wrong. The photographs of Mieka, Greg, and the girls on my nightstand were impossible to ignore, and I was still staring at the ceiling when I heard Taylor come home from school. I pulled on my jeans and sweater and went down to meet her.
She was sitting on the cobbler’s bench in the front hall. Her jacket and backpack were on the floor beside her. She was taking off her boots, and her face was pale.
“I wish I’d known she was Ethan’s mother,” Taylor said.
I remembered Kathryn’s phone call. It was possible she had just wanted to talk about the problem that was developing between our children. More coals heaped upon my head. “I wish I’d known too,” I said.
“It must have been hard for Ethan coming here,” Taylor said thoughtfully. “Remember how weird he was that day he found out Zack was your boyfriend?”
“Yes,” I said. “Sometimes people are a little taken aback when they meet Zack. I thought that’s all it was. And then when Ethan started going to the trial, I figured it was a case of hero worship.”
Taylor narrowed her eyes. “Why would anybody worship Zack?”
“Well, he’s pretty successful.”
“A lot of people are successful,” Taylor said. “That’s no big deal. Besides, Ethan said he was interested in justice.”
“Like Soul-fire,” I said.
Taylor’s face was suffused with sadness. “Do you suppose that’s why Ethan stopped wearing his pentangle – because he doesn’t believe in justice any more?”
“The timing makes sense,” I said. “The verdict came down Monday morning and you said Ethan wasn’t wearing his pentangle Monday night.”
Taylor picked up her coat and bookbag and hung them on the hall tree. “What will happen to Ethan now that his mum’s dead?”
“He’ll probably go to his dad’s.”
“But his dad’s new wife says Ethan doesn’t fit into their family.”
“I guess Ethan will have to find a way to fit in.”
“It’s not fair,” Taylor said.
I put my arm around her shoulder. “No,” I said. “It’s not fair, but that’s the way it is.”
At five o’clock, Zack, the Family Man, came by unannounced and asked what we wanted to do about supper. No one was hungry, but as he pointed out sensibly, we had to eat. We went to Earl’s, a restaurant we all liked, and the familiar ambience – the sounds of other people’s laughter, the taped music, the clink of cutlery against china – was balm to our raw nerve ends. So was the litre of Shiraz Zack and I split and the virgin Caesar with extra pepper that Taylor ordered.
As she sipped, my younger daughter was still deeply concerned about Ethan’s fate. Taylor was not a person who worried privately, so Ethan and his future dominated our conversation. It was a grim topic. By the time our entrees arrived, we were all in need of diversion. A large and noisy birthday party at the next table offered deliverance. Taylor’s eleventh birthday was less than two weeks away, and Zack made the connection.
“Looks like they’re having fun over there, Taylor,” he said. “What have you got planned for your birthday?”
Taylor’s brow furrowed in concentration. “No party,” she said. “We just had one. Besides, with Ethan and everything, it doesn’t seem right.”
Zack’s fork stopped in mid-air. “So November 11 will be just another day – no gifts, no cake, no nothing.”
“I didn’t say that,” Taylor said quickly. Then realizing she was being teased, her brown eyes shone. “I love presents, and Jo always makes a cake. Maybe we could just have the family and Gracie and Isobel.” She turned to me. “Would that be okay?”
“It’s your champagne birthday – you’re turning eleven on the eleventh day of the eleventh month. You get to do whatever you want – within reason of course.”
Taylor’s smile was mischievous. “And since it’s my champagne birthday, I’m the one who gets to decide what’s ‘within reason.’ ”
Given the circumstances, the evening was a success. When Zack dropped us off, Taylor ran ahead so she could go inside and call Gracie and Isobel. We watched as she unlocked the door and disappeared inside. “She’ll be okay,” Zack said.
“I think so,” I said. “She’s still upset about Ethan. So am I. Every time I think about what’s ahead for him, I want to cry. But to be honest, I’m grateful Taylor doesn’t have to deal with him any more. His feelings for her were just too intense. He confused her, and I think he frightened her.”
“Ethan frightens himself,” Zack said. “But kids survive some terrible things. Let’s hope Ethan’s one of the lucky ones who gets to cut his own direction in life.”
“Like you,” I said.
