“All of us!” Gretchen called cheerfully. Okay, perhapstoocheerfully. “Like old times.”
“You know I’m vegan, right?” Elizabeth said. “That I’vebeenvegan for ten years?”
“Oh, that’s…right, the butter. I’m so sorry, Elizabeth.” Gretchen meant it. Remembering these kinds of things about your childrenwasa mother’s love. She turned to look squarely at her daughter. “I know you’re vegan, of course I do. I wasn’t thinking. I just needed todosomething.”
To Gretchen’s surprise, Elizabeth’s eyes got glassy, and she smiled sadly. “That makes sense.”
Did her daughter feel sorry for her?Head in the sand.It was a vicious thing to be judged by your own children. Even worse when you realized they might be right.
“This is all going to be fine, you know.”
“Unless…” Elizabeth said very quietly.
Gretchen clenched her teeth. “Elizabeth, please.”
“I’m just saying, Mom…things happen.” Her voice was soft. “People have affairs. Even good people. I’m not saying that Dad is a bad—”
“Elizabeth, this is ridic—”
“Mom.” Her eyes were filled with…love? Looking at her daughter, Gretchen felt something welling up inside her. Asadness so overwhelming she was sure it would destroy her. Elizabeth needed to stop this right now.
“Elizabeth, I really don’t understand why—”
“Because it’s obvious?” Nowthatwas the Elizabeth that Gretchen was used to—sarcastic.
“I’m sorry, but do you have actual proof of something that I am unaware of? I mean aside from your utterly biased, self-serving assumptions.”
Expressions moved across Elizabeth’s face, first a kind of anger, then heartbreak. Pure heartbreak. It was awful. “Mom, come on.”
“Elizabeth, your father has supported you financially throughout this entire—”
“Money? You want to make this about money?” Elizabeth blinked quickly. “I was trying to take your side here.”
Her “side”? There weresides? Gretchen went to the refrigerator in search of syrup.
“I’m just saying your father has worked really hard. He deserves our loyalty. He deserves it because we love him.” Gretchen was aware her words sounded hollow. But trying to wrap her mind around what love even meant anymore was like trying to grab a cloud.
“I think you mean willful blindness, not loyalty.” Elizabeth was glaring at Gretchen now, but it was better than the heartbreak. Anything was. “Things happen, Mom. Affairs. Accidents. People argue. One thing leads to another.”
Strike back. What alternative was there? In fact, it felt like Gretchen’s life might depend on it. She stepped closer to her daughter and drove a finger into the island.
“Elizabeth, your father has done nothing wrong. Not a single thing. If you are going to be here, in my home, you need to respect that. Otherwise, you can go back to that cult of yours and stay there.”
Elizabeth flinched, then blinked quickly—like she’d been slapped.
“Pancakes, yes!” Becks exclaimed from the doorway. ThankGod. His hair was sticking up, and he was rubbing at his puffy eyes like a little boy. “I thought I smelled them from upstairs.”
He took the stool next to Elizabeth. “What are you still doing here?” she asked. “I thought you were going back to school.”
“Yeah, well…” He shrugged. “I actually don’t even remember coming home.”
“You don’t remember?” Elizabeth sounded concerned.
Becks’s last “episode” (when he was eleven) had involved him disappearing for hours—and not being able to account for his time afterward. If it hadn’t been for how drunk he’d been the night before, Gretchen would have been alarmed.
Becks reached for his sister’s cup of coffee, took a noisy sip, then grimaced. “Fuck, black? Ever hear of almond milk, fucking psycho?”
“Becks,” Elizabeth pressed. “Seriously, what are you still doing here?”
