Chapter 6 - ELEANOR’S APOLOGY
Eleanor came to my house without Joe.
That alone was unusual.
For eleven years, she had defended her son reflexively.
Joe yelled?
He was stressed.
Joe forgot my birthday?
He was busy.
Joe made a bad investment?
He was ambitious.
At the gala, she had reached for Leo as though a replacement family had been waiting behind a curtain.
I had not forgiven that.
She sat in my living room with her handbag in her lap.
“I owe you an apology.”
“Yes.”
She flinched.
I did not rescue her.
“Joe told me you had been separated since January.”
“We weren’t.”
“I know that now.”
“He slept beside me in January.”
Eleanor looked down.
“He said you were doing that for Tommy.”
“Did you really believe that?”
“I believed my son.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
She swallowed.
“He told me Tracy was going to become part of his life after the divorce.”
“And Leo?”
“He never said Leo was his child.”
That mattered.
“He said he cared about him.”
I nodded.
“At least one thing wasn’t a lie.”
Eleanor’s eyes filled.
“I shouldn’t have participated.”
“In what?”
“The gala.”
There it was.
She had known Joe planned to announce the divorce.
Not the cruelty.
Not the forced settlement.
But enough.
“He told me you had agreed to a public announcement because you wanted to avoid gossip.”
I stared at her.
“And when he threw papers in front of me?”
“I realized.”
“When?”
“When you wouldn’t touch the pen.”
“And you still stayed beside him.”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
That answer hurt.
Not because it surprised me.
Because it was honest.
“Tommy saw you reaching for Leo.”
Her face collapsed.
“I know.”
“He asked me whether Grandma Eleanor still wanted him.”
She covered her mouth.
That finally broke her.
“I never wanted him to think that.”
“But he did.”
“I’m sorry.”
I let the silence sit.
Then said:
“You need to apologize to him, not me.”
“I will.”
“Only if he wants to hear it.”
She nodded.
That became the rule going forward.
Adults did not get access to Tommy merely because their guilt became uncomfortable.
Eleanor eventually apologized.
No excuses.
She told him:
“I let your father make me believe a story because believing him was easier than asking harder questions.”
Tommy listened.
Then said:
“You should’ve asked Mom.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I should have.”
He did not hug her that day.
May you like
She left anyway.
That was the first sign she might actually be learning something.
