The memory keeper's daughter - Kim Edwards [55]
“That’s good, isn’t it? Paul will keep her busy.”
Norah laughed. “He will, won’t he? That’s her whole reason for coming.”
“Norah, what do you dream about?” he asked. “What do you dream for Paul?”
Norah didn’t answer right away. “I suppose I want him to be happy,” she said at last. “Whatever in life makes him happy, I want him to have that. I don’t care what it is, as long as he grows up to be good and true to himself. And generous and strong, like his father.”
“No,” David said, uncomfortable. “You don’t want him to take after me.”
She gave him an intent look, surprised. “Why not?”
He didn’t answer. After a long, hesitant moment, Norah spoke again.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, not aggressively but thoughtfully, as if she were trying to puzzle out the answer as she spoke. “Between us, I mean, David.”
He didn’t answer, struggling against a sudden surge of anger. Why did she have to stir things up again? Why couldn’t she let the past rest and move on? But she spoke again.
“It hasn’t been the same since Paul was born and Phoebe died. And yet you still won’t talk about her. It’s like you want to erase the fact that she existed.”
“Norah, what do you want me to say? Of course life hasn’t been the same.”
“Don’t get angry, David. That’s just some kind of strategy, isn’t it? So I won’t talk about her anymore. But I won’t back down. What I’m saying is true.”
He sighed.
“Don’t ruin the beautiful day, Norah,” he said at last.
“I’m not,” she said, moving away. She lay down on the blanket and closed her eyes. “I’m perfectly content with this day.”
He watched her for a moment, sunlight catching in her blond hair, her chest rising and falling gently with each breath. He wanted to reach out and trace the delicate curved bones of her ribs; he wanted to kiss her at the point the bones met, stretching away like wings.
“Norah,” he said. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what you want.”
“No,” she said. “You don’t.”
“You could tell me.”
“I suppose I could. Maybe I will. Were they very much in love?” she asked suddenly, without opening her eyes. Her voice was still soft and calm, but he was aware of a new tension in the air. “Your father and your mother?”
“I don’t know,” he said, slowly, carefully, trying to determine the source of her question. “They loved each other. But he was away a lot. Like I said, they had hard lives.”
“My father loved my mother more than she loved him,” Norah said, and David felt an uneasiness stir in his heart. “He loved her, but he couldn’t seem to show love in a way that was meaningful to her. She just thought he was offbeat, a little silly. There was a lot of silence in my house, growing up…. We’re pretty silent in our house too,” she added, and he thought of their calm evenings, her head bent over the little white hat with the ducks.
“A good silence,” he said.
“Sometimes.”
“And other times?”
“I still think about her, David,” she said, turning on her side and meeting his gaze. “Our daughter. What she would be like.”
He didn’t answer, and as he watched she wept silently, covering her face with her hands. After a moment, he reached out and touched her arm; she wiped the tears from her eyes.
“And you?” she demanded, fierce now. “Don’t you ever miss her too?”
“Yes,” he said truthfully. “I think about her all the time.”
Norah put her hand on his chest, and then her lips, berry-stained, were on his, a sweetness as piercing as desire against his tongue. He felt himself falling, the sun on his skin and her breasts lifting softly, like birds, against his hands. She sought the buttons on his shirt, and her hand brushed against the letter he had hidden in his pocket.
He shrugged off his shirt, but even so, when he slid his arms around her again, he was thinking, I love you. I love you so much, and I lied to you. And the distance between them, millimeters only, the space of a breath, opened up and deepened, became a cavern at whose edge he stood. He pulled away, back into the light and shadow, the clouds over him and then not, and the sun-warmed rock hot against his back.
“What is it?” she asked,