Chapter 10

Barbara had known it was a mistake to drive to her mom’s house today of all days, but after a night filled with nightmares, she hadn’t possessed the strength to argue with her mother. She’d had no choice but to comply with her request for a visit.

Now she was standing in her mother’s spacious kitchen, helping her prepare lunch while Eleanore fussed about like a concerned mother hen.

While it felt good to chat with her, Barbara would have preferred to be alone. On this day, she wanted to curl up in her bed, pull the covers over her head, and not do anything at all. Instead, she was peeling potatoes and listening to her mother’s stories. She didn’t bother interrupting once until she noticed how strange it was that the twins hadn’t been mentioned once so far, and even stranger, there was no sign of Patrick, Amy, or the babies.

She put down the peeler, wrinkled her nose, and looked at her mother, who was getting something out of the fridge. “Mom? Did you send Patrick and Amy away with the babies?”

Although Barbara could only see her mother’s back, the way her posture stiffened was evidence enough that she was about to lie. “What gives you that idea, honey? Patrick and Amy wanted to drive to New Haven with the twins.”

“Did they?” Barbara frowned. “Patrick and Amy voluntarily drove two newborns to New Haven—on a Saturday. That sounds very reasonable.”

“How am I supposed to know what the five of them are up to?” Eleanore Ashcroft did not sound convincing or, for that matter, convinced.

“Mom.” Barbara sighed heavily. “What made you think the babies had to be out of the house when I came over? That’s totally unnecessary. I was actually looking forward to seeing the two little sweethearts. They grow so quickly, after all.”

When Eleanore turned around, she was chewing on her lower lip. “I don’t know, honey.” She shrugged a helpless shoulder. “We … I wanted to distract you. I thought the twins might make you sad.”

Barbara shook her head. “That’s nonsense. How could the twins make me sad? I love them both dearly. Aaron and Alex have nothing to do with Elizabeth.”

Once she said the name, she felt her eyes sting and her throat constrict, despite her show of confidence. Even after three years, the mere thought of her baby girl hurt. She’d never laid eyes on the darling, and yet she thought about her every day.

However, despite this intense and relentless pain, she meant what she’d just said to her mom. Her two nephews had nothing to do with her dead daughter, and she was able to hold Aaron in her arm or cuddle Alex without getting sad. She didn’t resent Patrick or Amy for their happiness, for being a family of five; she was happy for her brother. Before she’d gotten married, Barbara had always dreamed of having two boys and a girl—the perfect constellation, a replica of the family she’d grown up in. She’d wanted three children—and James had wanted them, too. The perfect family.

Now she had two sons she loved to distraction. Two sons she wouldn’t give up for anything in the world.

And she had an ex-husband she missed, while at the same time she could hardly bear to look into his eyes. An ex-husband who had never said her dead daughter’s name until a few days ago. Who had never even once made an attempt to grieve with her, not in three years. She had never seen him shed a single tear for Elizabeth, but during their phone call, he’d sounded as if he was going to cry any moment.

“I’m so glad you see it that way,” her mother interrupted her thoughts. She moved closer, put a comforting hand on Barbara’s back, and stroked it. “The family was worried about how you would react to the babies. I hope you’re not mad at us.”

“Of course not,” Barbara murmured distractedly and lowered her head, taking in a trembling breath. “Could we please talk about something else now?”

“Of course.” Eleanore squeezed her daughter’s shoulders. “How are things going with Marcus?”

“I was thinking of a different change of subject, Mom,” Barbara replied dryly. “Like the weather, maybe, or the situation in the Middle East. Much more enjoyable, and innocuous, too.”

“Oh.” Her mother sounded surprised. “Does that mean you two had a quarrel?”

Barbara picked up the potato peeler again and resumed her work. “No, we did not have a quarrel,” she replied briskly.

“Then what happened?”

She had no mind and no energy to mislead her mother, so she casually explained, “There is nothing to quarrel about, Mom. I went out with Marcus exactly once, and then he accompanied me to Scott’s soccer tournament, but it didn’t feel right. So we’re not going out again. That’s it—no big deal.”

“What do you mean it didn’t feel right?”

Barbara shrugged a dismissive shoulder and prayed for some kind of interruption. “I didn’t feel relaxed and comfortable in his presence. Not as comfortable as in my …” She stopped herself. “You know.”

“No, I don’t. What do you mean?”

Barbara squirmed uncomfortably, all too aware of her mother’s inquisitive gaze. “Well … on this date with Marcus,” she said hesitantly, more than reluctant to explain all this to her mother. “I … didn’t feel at ease with him because … because I kept thinking about James.”

“Oh, honey.”

“Which shouldn’t come as a surprise, when you think about it,” she continued quickly. “James and I were a couple for twelve years. That doesn’t just go away without a trace!”

“It certainly doesn’t, no,” her mom agreed sympathetically. “What did you tell Marcus?”

Barbara laughed dryly. “I told him I wasn’t ready to date again.”

Her mother looked surprised. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because I could hardly have told him the truth.” She scowled at the potato in her hand.

“Which would be what?”

Barbara couldn’t meet her mother’s eyes, but she confessed in a whisper, “The truth is that I felt like a cheater during the whole date, like I was a woman betraying her husband.”

Her mother was silent for a moment. Then, with compassion in her voice, she murmured, “It sounds as if you’re still in love with James.”

Confused, Barbara sniffled. “I don’t know, Mom. On the one hand … On the one hand, I want to be at his side again and forget everything that happened. But on the other hand, I’m still so furious with him that I could kill him.”

“You shouldn’t have been so quick to get a divorce,” Eleanore said unhappily. “Maybe things would have turned out better if you’d found a therapist to see together after Elizabeth’s death. Maybe that’s what you need to do now.”

Barbara wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Mom, that was three years ago.”

“Neither of you is happy, Barbara. Why don’t you sit down and talk to each other?”

“You’re asking me?” Her bitterness was palpable now. “I wanted to talk to him, but James acted as if nothing had happened, right from the get-go. He acted as if there had never been a baby. Mom …” Her mouth twisted in misery. “When I got home from the hospital, he’d already cleared out her nursery. He’d even painted the walls! There was nothing at home to so much as remind us of the fact that we’d ever been expecting Elizabeth.”

Her mother’s answer was a comforting embrace. “I’m so sorry, honey. If only your dad had still been alive at the time, I’m sure he would have known what—”

“Please don’t start with Dad now,” Barbara sobbed, nestling into her mother’s embrace. “Not today, Mom.”

“Okay.” Her mom nodded and kissed her temple, a gesture that felt intensely comforting.