“What did he say?” Diana whispers, taking her mother’s hands in her own. Her heart is beating too fast, and she hates that she unintentionally drew her mother into a conversation that caused her to reveal her own secret.
“He had no idea I was miserable. He was blinded by his work and the pressure of supporting our family. I should have told him earlier; he should have paid attention.” Vivian smiles sadly at her daughters. “Ivowed never to drink again, and we agreed I would go back to work. I started substitute teaching that spring and had a full-time position for the new school year. I’ve never had a drop of alcohol since that night.”
“Mom, I had no idea.” Diana looks directly at Andrea for the first time since her sister’s hurtful attack. “We had no idea.”
“Every day of my life, I see that tree—it’s misshapen and never grew right after I hit it—and I am reminded you two could have died. We were lucky. I made a mistake. I hid what was going on from the person I loved the most, which was another mistake. Your father, fortunately, forgave me. It took a long time, but one day, I forgave myself, too.”
Vivian lets go of Diana’s hands and gestures to the letter. “People make mistakes. When we love them, we forgive them, even if they take a very long time to tell us what they did.”
Diana thinks of Lakshmi’s theory that there are limits to knowing another person. Of Grace and how many years she’s suffered without William, reliving the loss of him every day. And of Duncan: lying on the floor of her bedroom, Tom’s letter in his hand.
“Mom, should I keep trying to figure out the rest of the story?” What a relief it would be for her mother to tell her what to do. That is one of the hardest parts about being a widow: all the solitary choices, not sharing the responsibility of making decisions with someone else.
“That’s your call. Not mine. Not Andrea’s. Whatever you do, I’ll support you. But,” Vivian says, unable to entirely refrain from offering an opinion, “when I read this letter, I see a man trying to make amends, albeit in a clumsy way, but still, trying.”
The intimacy of their conversation is disrupted by the beep of Andrea’s phone. “It’s Evan. They’re almost home. I should go.” She nods at Diana and kisses Vivian’s cheek. “See you tomorrow at Noah’s soccer game, Mom.” Then she leaves, escaping the emotions bouncing around the room. The door clicks shut behind her, and the house is quiet again, save for the pop of the fire as a log breaks from the heat.
That did not go well,Diana thinks. Andrea didn’t even comment on their mother’s revelations or ask how Diana feels about the letter,whether finding it reignited her grief, or whether she’s hurt to find out Tom kept secrets.
Vivian checks her watch. “We have some time before your dad and Duncan get back. Let’s have a cup of tea.”
Diana follows her mother into the kitchen, where Vivian takes the kettle from the stove to fill it with water.
“Thank you for telling us your story, Mom. It’s so not how I see you, but I guess that was your point.”
“A rather obvious ‘nail on the head.’”
“Will you tell Dad about Tom’s letter?”
Vivian turns on the burner, centering the kettle over the flame. “This is too important to keep from him. That’s not how our marriage works.”
Diana doesn’t respond to the subtle dig at her relationship with Tom; instead, she busies herself gathering mugs and spoons for their tea.
“I’m sorry. That came out wrong,” Vivian says. “I didn’t mean it as a criticism about you and Tom. Having open communication is a priority for your father and me, and I have to honor that. You didn’t ask me to keep this to myself, and I hope you won’t ask me to do so now.”
Diana imagines her parents sitting together at their kitchen table after the accident, opening up about her mother’s secret. They were tested, and they chose honesty as their marital currency. She and Tom didn’t ever discuss their relationship to honesty; she assumed they’d tell the truth. Clearly they each interpreted telling the truth differently.
“Will Dad be upset I didn’t tell him myself?”
“He’ll understand this is difficult for you. He’ll be glad to know what’s going on, and he’ll be sad Tom didn’t feel safe enough to tell any of us what happened.”
“Didn’t feel safe?” Diana says, putting rooibos tea bags in the mugs. “That’s an interesting interpretation.”
“There must have been a good reason why he didn’t tell you earlier.”
“A reason I’ll never discover.”
“I wish you didn’t find that letter and that this whole mess would go away. You have enough on your plate with the kids and work.”
“Areyoutelling me to forget about all of this?”
“No, not at all. It’s only ...” Vivian sighs. “Have you thought through the consequences of keeping at this?”
“I can’t stop looking for answers because it might be uncomfortable. The kids and I bear the biggest burden from all of this, and I’ll make sure we’re okay.” Diana hopes she sounds confident.
“What about your sister? Clearly, she is hurting and is in pain.”
“That’s my responsibility? She said awful things about Tom, and about you, Dad, and me. It was too much.”
