Chapter 13 - CELESTE’S LAST REQUEST
Celeste called two years after sentencing.
I almost ignored her.
Then answered because avoiding her felt too much like fear.
“Evelyn.”
Her voice sounded older.
“What do you want?”
“A conversation.”
“We’re having one.”
A tiny pause.
She deserved that.
She had moved to Santa Barbara after the case.
Richard filed for divorce from prison.
Apparently loyalty ended exactly where usefulness did.
“I owe you an apology,” she said.
“You owe several.”
“Yes.”
That surprised me.
She continued.
“I told myself your father was difficult, not dangerous.”
I said nothing.
“I told myself managing him made me protective.”
“Of whom?”
“Everyone.”
“No.”
Silence.
Then:
“I know.”
Good.
She continued.
“I helped him control Margaret’s access to information. I certified documents I didn’t witness. I participated in surveillance of you because I believed frightening you into settlement was preferable to the company collapsing.”
I felt old anger return.
“Preferable for you.”
“Yes.”
Another clean answer.
Then she said:
“I didn’t know about the car.”
“I believe you.”
She exhaled shakily.
“That doesn’t absolve me.”
“No.”
“I know.”
We were getting somewhere.
Then the real request.
“Ava is getting married.”
I knew.
She had invited me herself.
“I want to know if you’ll object to me attending.”
I almost laughed.
“That’s Ava’s decision.”
“She said she wants both of us there.”
“Then go.”
Celeste was quiet.
“You would be comfortable with that?”
“No.”
I heard her breathe in.
“But discomfort isn’t authority.”
That sentence felt important.
For years Celeste and Richard made every uncomfortable feeling a reason someone else had to change behavior.
I was done inheriting that.
At Ava’s wedding, Celeste and I sat far apart.
No confrontation.
No reconciliation.
At one point, Ava caught my eye during the reception and raised her phone.
Then stopped.
She lowered it.
Walked over.
“Can we take one?”
I smiled.
“A normal picture?”
“Normal-ish.”
We stood together.
Me.
Ava.
Celeste, eventually.
No Richard.
A photograph did not erase anything.
But neither did history forbid every future frame.
May you like
Mixed answers.
Margaret would have liked that too.
