Chapter 6 - Walter Knew Before Either Of Us
Walter set the coffee down.
Didn't touch his.
Julia asked again.
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“How do you know?”
“She told me.”
“When?”
“About a month before the kitchen fight.”
I stared.
“Before the apartment.”
“Yes.”
Julia looked at me.
I ignored it.
“What did she say?”
Walter sat.
“She said she couldn't tell whether she wanted out or wanted your father to notice she was unhappy.”
That sounded exactly like someone who should not have recruited two daughters.
“What did you tell her?”
“To get a therapist.”
Julia almost laughed.
Walter continued:
“And to stop making decisions through the children.”
“We were twenty-six,” I said.
“Still her children.”
He looked at me.
“Still are, apparently.”
“Did Dad know?”
“Not from me.”
“Did you know Julia was helping her?”
“Later.”
“How?”
“Diane told me.”
“When?”
“After Julia found the apartment.”
My anger moved.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And when Dad threw Julia out?”
“I wasn't there.”
“After.”
Walter looked down.
“Diane asked me not to intervene.”
Julia laughed softly.
“You listened.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He took a long time.
“Because your parents had spent twenty years pulling friends into every difficult season and then resenting them for taking sides.”
“So you stayed neutral.”
Walter shook his head.
“I stayed absent.”
Better sentence.
Not better choice.
I asked:
“Did you know Mom told me it was Julia’s idea?”
“No.”
Julia looked at him.
“Would it have mattered?”
“Yes.”
“You would’ve called Claire?”
“I hope.”
Julia didn't let him have that.
“Hope is cheap twenty years later.”
Walter nodded.
Fair.
I stared at my coffee.
“What happened after I left?” Julia asked.
Walter answered.
“Your mother panicked.”
“What does that mean?”
“She decided leaving Richard had become too destructive.”
I laughed quietly.
“Because Julia left.”
“Partly.”
“So she stayed.”
“Yes.”
“Two years.”
“Yes.”
“And Dad spent those two years believing Julia had tried to destroy the marriage.”
Walter didn't answer.
I looked at him.
“Did you correct him?”
“No.”
Julia turned away.
Walter continued before either of us could speak.
“Your mother told me she would.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
“No,” I repeated.
A woman who hated conflict had found a structure where everyone else carried it for her.
Julia took out her phone.
“I’m calling her.”
I reached for the phone.
Stopped myself.
My hand stayed above the table for one stupid second.
Julia noticed.
“So close.”
“Shut up.”
She almost smiled.
Then she put the phone down herself.
“Not with the girls here.”
I looked toward Lily and Ava.
Walter had given them books, not cash.
Good.
“What did Mom tell you after Julia left?” Walter asked me.
“Nothing.”
He looked at me differently.
“What?”
“She called you.”
My stomach tightened.
“When?”
“Three weeks later.”
A memory moved.
Kitchen at my old apartment.
Diane's name on the screen.
Me answering while loading the dishwasher.
Her voice:
I need you to understand something about your sister.
May you like
I had not forgotten the call.
I had forgotten what I refused to hear.
