Chapter 12 - Julia Left The Next Morning
Julia's flight was at 9:20.
I did not go to the airport.
That would have been too much.
Also I had no idea what airport she was using until she texted me at 7:03.
JULIA: Ava wants to know if Lily can FaceTime after school.
I stared at the message.
First direct text from my sister in nine years.
No apology attached.
No history.
A child asking for a call.
I typed:
Yes.
Deleted it.
Typed:
Ask Lily after school.
Then laughed at myself.
I called Lily downstairs.
“Ava wants to FaceTime later.”
Her face lit up.
“Yes.”
I sent:
Lily says yes. 5?
Julia responded:
5 works.
Three minutes later:
Also, I land Denver 11:40 your time. Do not interpret this as requiring tracking.
I smiled despite myself.
CLAIRE: Wasn't planning to.
JULIA: Liar.
That afternoon, the girls talked for forty-two minutes.
Most of it about a game I did not understand.
No family revelations.
No secret plans.
At one point Ava asked:
“Does your mom still think I'm you?”
Lily shouted:
“Mom!”
I yelled from the kitchen:
“I can hear you!”
They laughed.
I let them.
Later, after Lily went upstairs, Julia called me.
Voice.
Not video.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Awkward.
Good.
“Mom called,” she said.
“Me too.”
“What did she want?”
“To ask whether she could send Lily something.”
Julia laughed.
“She asked me whether she could send Ava something.”
“What did you say?”
“Send it directly. No messages through gifts.”
I looked at the package Diane had once sent Lily without asking.
“Same.”
Silence.
Then Julia said:
“I found your old number in my blocked list.”
“Romantic.”
“Shut up.”
“You blocked me, remember?”
“I’m admitting technical responsibility.”
“Growth.”
Another silence.
Then:
“Claire.”
“What?”
“Were you happy when Dad threw me out?”
The question hurt.
“No.”
“Relieved?”
I took longer.
“Yes.”
She breathed out.
I continued before I could polish it.
“I was tired of feeling like I had to choose between what you said and what they said.”
“So when you left—”
“The room got simpler.”
Julia was quiet.
“That hurts.”
“I know.”
She did not hang up.
Then:
“I was relieved when you didn't come after me.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“Because if you had, I would’ve had to decide whether I actually wanted you there.”
I laughed softly.
“Great family.”
“Excellent.”
Neither of us rescued the other.
Before we ended, Julia said:
“Dad asked about you the last time I saw him.”
I went still.
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
“You saw Dad?”
“Once.”
That was new.
“What did he say?”
Julia hesitated.
Then:
“Not tonight.”
My old instinct flared.
“What did he say?”
“Claire.”
I stopped.
She continued:
“I’m not hiding it. I’m asking whether you want another thing before bed.”
I looked at the clock.
11:18.
“No.”
“Okay.”
May you like
The question remained.
So did the phone number.
