Chapter 11 - Marianne Told Ethan What She Had Been Hiding
I arrived furious.
Mom sat at my kitchen table.
Rachel was there.
Ethan was in my bedroom with the door open.
He had refused to leave.
“Why are you here?”
Mom stood.
“I called Rachel.”
“You could've called me.”
“You would've said no.”
“Correct.”
She flinched.
I almost kept going.
Then caught it.
We had all used predicted rejection as permission.
I stopped.
“Why did you think that made coming anyway okay?”
Mom's eyes filled.
“It didn't.”
Better.
She stayed standing.
“I came because Gary called me.”
“What did he say?”
“That he'd told you about me.”
“The slap.”
Mom closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Plural, according to him.”
She looked at Rachel.
Then back at me.
“He isn't lying.”
My stomach tightened.
“How many times?”
“I don't know.”
“Try.”
“Three.”
Specific.
I could remember two now.
One when I was fifteen.
One at seventeen.
Third still gone.
Mom continued:
“I grabbed you more.”
I looked away.
Ethan was listening.
I hated that.
Then realized he already knew adults could hurt children.
What he needed was adults naming it accurately.
Mom said:
“I’m sorry.”
I didn't answer.
She looked toward Ethan's room.
“I also need to tell him I knew Gary used physical punishment.”
Ethan appeared in the doorway.
My chest tightened.
Mom looked at him.
“I knew.”
He stared.
“How much?”
She swallowed.
“Not every time.”
“That means yes.”
Mom closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Ethan's face changed.
“You said you didn't.”
“I lied.”
He started crying.
Mom took one step.
He backed away.
She stopped immediately.
Good.
One correct choice did not erase anything.
Ethan asked:
“Why?”
Mom's voice shook.
“Because I thought if I admitted it, everything would fall apart.”
Ethan looked around my tiny apartment.
“Everything already did.”
Nobody spoke.
Mom nodded.
“Yes.”
Ethan wiped his face.
“Did you want Dad to hit me?”
“No.”
“Did you like it?”
“No.”
“Then why didn't you stop him?”
Mom opened her mouth.
Nothing came.
I almost answered for her.
Didn't.
She finally said:
“Because I was scared of him.”
Ethan waited.
“And because I had gotten used to telling myself it wasn't as bad as it was.”
That was better than fear alone.
She continued.
“Sometimes I was angry at you too.”
Ethan stared.
“When?”
“When you lied. When school called. When you ignored rules.”
His face tightened.
Mom started crying harder.
“I let his punishment do something I was angry enough to want done.”
The room went dead quiet.
That was the ugliest thing she'd said.
Probably the most important.
Not pure victim.
Not secret sadist.
A parent who sometimes let another adult carry out anger she didn't want to own.
Ethan backed into my room.
I went toward him.
He lifted a hand.
“Wait.”
I stopped.
He looked at Mom.
“Did you call that man before?”
“Holloway?”
“Yes.”
“Years ago.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought about leaving.”
“Why didn't you?”
Mom breathed.
“I was afraid.”
Ethan's face hardened.
“You keep saying that.”
Mom took it.
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“Can I go to Jordan's?”
I frowned.
“Who?”
“Friend from school.”
Rachel almost smiled.
“Different story.”
I laughed despite everything.
Ethan looked annoyed.
“Can I?”
“Not tonight.”
He frowned.
I continued.
“Not because you're in trouble. Because we're still sorting where you can go.”
He nodded reluctantly.
Mom picked up her coat.
Before leaving, she placed her wedding ring on my table.
I stared.
“What is that?”
“Nothing for you.”
“Then why leave it?”
She looked at it.
“I don't know where else to put it.”
I slid it back toward her.
“Figure it out.”
Her face crumpled.
But she took it.
Good.
No symbolic object assigned to me.
At the door she turned toward Ethan.
“I love you.”
He didn't answer.
She nodded.
Then left.
Rachel waited until the door closed.
“That went badly.”
I stared.
“What would good look like?”
“No idea.”
Ethan appeared again.
He looked exhausted.
“Can I ask something?”
“Anything.”
“If Mom leaves Dad, does that mean I have to forgive her?”
“No.”
“If she stays?”
“No.”
He thought.
“What if Dad gets better?”
I swallowed.
“You still get to remember.”
Ethan nodded.
Then:
“Can I see Lucas tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Can you come?”
I looked at him.
“Do you want me to?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
So I said yes.
May you like
Not because big sisters always go.
Because he asked.
