Things I Want My Daughters to Know_ A Novel - Elizabeth Noble [9]
Now everyone had gone, and the family sat alone in the living room, staring into the kitchen at the vast Tupperware offerings on the counter.
“Looks that way.”
The music was switched off now. Lisa had kicked off her shoes and was curled into the corner of the sofa, her legs beneath her. Hannah was almost dozy, her head on her sister’s lap. Amanda was cross-legged on the floor, her back against a stool.
AT THE FRONT DOOR, JENNIFER WAS BEING HUGGED GOOD-BYE by Stephen. Barely. His lips were dry against her cheek, and his arms had no squeeze in them as he held her. He’d tried to take her hand, walking back from the burial to their car, and she’d let him take it, for a minute or two. She was irrationally angry with him about the black suit and tie, and the BlackBerry. And, of course, mostly about the one thing totally beyond his control. She knew that, too. She knew work was busy with him at the moment. She knew he’d missed too much, really, in the weeks before Barbara’s death. But she was mad at him, anyway. When he put his arms around her, she held herself a little stiff and wouldn’t relax into the embrace.
“Are you sure that you want to stay?”
“Yeah. I haven’t seen Amanda in a long time, Hannah is a mess, and I don’t want Mark to be by himself….”
“Aren’t Amanda, Hannah, and Lisa here to look after him?” His tone was almost sarcastic, almost amused. “You look exhausted.”
“I just buried my mum, Stephen…how do you expect me to look?” She didn’t want to go home with him, that was the truth of it. She wanted to stay here.
“I didn’t mean that.” He knew it, whether she told him or not. He knew she’d rather be with all of them tonight. He tried not to let it hurt him.
“I know. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry.” God, this politeness.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, by the time you get home from work. Lisa’ll drop me off, I’m sure. Or maybe I’ll take a train…”
Stephen raised his hands in a gesture of unnecessary surrender. “Fine, fine…seems to me, to be honest, like you haven’t really needed me all day.”
“Is that what you want to feel—like I need you?”
He rubbed his eyes impatiently with one hand. “…You know what, Jen? It’s fine that you stay. It’s fine.” He kissed her again, the same dry lips skimming her skin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She leaned against the door frame and watched him walk to the car, get in, drive away. He had looked back at her, and called out that he loved her, not waiting for an answer. But once again, it felt like they were on opposite sides of a big hole, a chasm they both made attempts to cross, just never at the same time.
WHEN SHE GOT BACK TO THE OTHERS, MARK WAS MAKING TEA. The national pastime. She got the milk from the fridge and poured some into each mug. He put them on a tray and carried them back to the sofa.
“How mangled are you all feeling?”
Lisa laughed weakly. “Scale of one to ten? A good nine.”
Hannah raised a limp hand from her reclining position. “Eleven over here.”
“Why?” Jennifer asked.
“Because there’s more,” Mark replied. “Not the official stuff—we’ll sort that out at the lawyers. This is your mum. She did manage to write a few more letters, like she said. I have them. I was supposed to give them to you all after this was finished. I’d have waited until tomorrow, but Jen’s not going to be here….”
“I am, actually. Stephen just left.”
Lisa raised an eyebrow quizzically at her sister.
“He’s got an early start tomorrow. I just thought…”
Mark put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. Your mum would be pleased—to know that all her girls were here together.”
They didn’t open them right away. It wasn’t Christmas morning, after all. Each of them held her letter in her lap. Amanda tried to remember what her mum’s hands looked like, imagined them holding the envelope.
They chatted until they were too tired. Hannah fell asleep and had to be gently shaken. They peeled off one by one, a subdued chorus of Waltonesque good nights issuing forth on the upstairs landing, and went to bed, glad, at least,