Chapter 15 - The Next Time I Saw The Red Wallet
Three months after the mall incident, Lily dropped her red wallet again.
Same mall.
Different Saturday.
I heard it hit the floor while Julia and I were arguing about parking validation.
Walter bent to pick it up.
He had joined us for lunch because we had invited him.
Invited.
A word this family was learning slowly.
He held the wallet toward Lily.
I saw the movement from ten feet away.
My body reacted before my mind did.
One step.
Then I stopped.
Walter saw.
So did Julia.
Neither said anything.
Lily took the wallet.
“Thanks, Uncle Walter.”
“You're welcome.”
No assault.
Excellent progress.
Ava came out of the bookstore carrying two paper bags.
She handed one to Lily.
They were not dressed alike today.
Ava wore red.
Lily green.
I suspected the choice was deliberate.
They denied it badly.
Julia came beside me.
“Mom’s here.”
I looked toward the far end of the concourse.
Diane stood near the glass doors.
Alone.
No Graham.
No SUVs.
No envelope.
She had texted both of us that morning:
I will be at the mall at one. I would like to see you. I will not approach unless invited.
Julia had sent me a screenshot.
I had sent her mine.
Same message.
A miracle.
We had not answered.
Now Diane waited.
Lily saw her.
“Grandma.”
Ava turned.
Neither girl ran.
They knew better than to decide this one for us.
Walter looked at Julia.
Then me.
“I can take the girls to the food court.”
Julia almost said yes.
I almost did too.
Then she stopped.
“So we can decide privately?”
Walter caught it.
“Yes.”
He smiled faintly.
“Old habit.”
We kept the girls with us.
Not as witnesses.
Just because we were going to lunch.
Julia looked toward Diane.
“What do you want?”
I thought.
“Ten minutes.”
She looked at me.
“Because she gave us ten?”
“No.”
Good catch.
“What do you want?”
Julia’s eyes stayed on our mother.
“I don't know.”
I waited.
Then:
“I want her to understand she doesn't get access because we’re speaking again.”
“Yes.”
“And I don't want refusing her to become the next thing we do together.”
That was harder.
I looked at Diane.
She hadn't moved.
She looked older when she wasn't directing traffic.
Lily tugged my sleeve.
“Are we eating?”
“Yes.”
“With Grandma?”
I crouched.
“This isn't yours to solve.”
She frowned.
“I just asked.”
“Fair.”
I stood.
Julia smiled slightly.
Then she asked:
“Do you want Mom at lunch?”
I looked at her.
“No.”
She nodded.
“Me neither.”
Relief.
Then something else.
I said:
“But maybe coffee after.”
Julia considered.
“Maybe.”
We both laughed.
Diane couldn't hear.
Probably good.
Walter started toward the restaurant with the girls.
Julia and I followed.
Halfway there, Diane shifted as if she thought we were coming toward her.
We weren't.
Her face fell.
I saw it.
Kept walking.
Then Julia stopped.
I stopped too.
She looked at me.
“We said coffee.”
“Maybe.”
“Right.”
Diane remained across the concourse.
Waiting.
Julia took out her phone.
Opened a message.
Didn't type.
I looked at mine.
Same empty conversation with Mom.
Neither of us asked the other what to say.
For almost a minute, we stood shoulder to shoulder while our daughters disappeared into the restaurant with Walter.
Then Julia started typing.
I did not look.
My own screen stayed blank.
Whatever she invited Diane to—or didn't—would be hers.
Whatever I decided next would have to be mine.
Across the mall, our mother’s phone lit up in her hand.
She read something.
Then slowly sat down on the bench instead of walking toward us.
I looked at Julia.
“What did you say?”
She put her phone away.
“You’ll have to ask Mom.”
I stared at her.
May you like
She smiled.
For once, I let the unanswered question wait until after lunch.
