He picked up the ice pack and put it back in the freezer and stood at the counter for a moment and then went upstairs to change his jacket.
FIFTEEN
THE WEEK OF THE DANIEL’sincident was the best week they had had in the house so far.
Not because anything was resolved. Nothing was resolved. The almost-kiss in the kitchen sat in the corners of rooms the same way Charlotte and James's absence did — present without being named, felt without being examined. Neither of them brought it up. Neither of them needed to, because acknowledging it would have required deciding what it meant and neither of them was ready to do that yet.
But something had shifted underneath it all, some final resistance had quietly given way, and the result was that they were simply easy with each other in a way they had not been before.
Mia noticed immediately and made no effort to hide it. She watched them the way she watched things she found interesting — openly, without apology. By Tuesday she had started narrating what she felt she saw. By Wednesday she started comparing them to things she had seen on television.
They cooked together on Tuesday. Not because anyone planned it — Elizabeth had started something and Darcy had come in and picked up where she had not got to yet and they had moved around the kitchen without negotiating it. Mia had sat at the counter watching with the focused satisfaction of someone whose plan was going exactly as intended.
"You two should have a cooking show," she said.
"We are making pasta," Elizabeth said.
"Gordon Ramsay started somewhere."
"Gordon Ramsay did not wake people up while making toasts."
"That was one time," Darcy said.
"Well, once count," Mia said. "I have witnesses. I am the witness."
On Wednesday evening they had watched a film after Mia went to bed. Not together exactly — Elizabeth was on the sofa with her laptop, Darcy was at the other end with a book — but in the same room, companionably, the television on in the background, neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence or leave it.
Mia had come downstairs for water at ten-thirty, looked at the two of them, and gone back upstairs without a word. In the morning she had said, entirely casually, that they reminded her of a nature documentary she had seen about birds that flew in formation without ever visibly communicating. Elizabeth had said that was not a compliment. Mia had said she had not said it was.
On Friday morning, Elizabeth was turning the house upside down looking for her car keys when Mia, already ready for school and halfway through a piece of toast, said, “You’re both coming to my swimming thing tomorrow, right?”
She looked from Darcy to Elizabeth.
“It starts at ten, but swimming is happening at one.”
Elizabeth looked up, having just found her keys. "What swimming thing?"
"The inter-school competition. I told you about it."
"You did not tell me about it."
"I told Mr. Darcy."
Elizabeth looked at Darcy. He was at the counter with his coffee and the expression of a man who was about to say something carefully.
"She mentioned it," he said.
"When?"
"Monday evening."
"And you told me?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"You both know now," Mia said, sliding off the counter and picking up her bag. "Nine-thirty. Coach Reyes is very strict about seating. Don't be late." She hugged Darcy. "Ready."
Then she walked out the door.
