“We’ll see about that. I bet you a hundred bucks she backs out,” I say, thinking that’s one of Josie’s signature tactics—bow to pressure, then come up with an excuse later.
Mom shakes her head. “No. She’s really come around on the idea,” she says so earnestly that it breaks my heart. “And I think it will be good for her. For all of us, but maybe especially for her.”
“Why’s that?”
“She needs to face her grief,” Mom says. “She never really has. I think seeing Sophie might help with that….So anyway, we should all probably book our tickets and hotel soon….New York is so busy around the holidays….” Her voice trails off and her eyes grow glassy, as she is obviously thinking about Daniel, that time of the year, trees and decorations and Christmas carols, all completely synonymous with death in our family.
I look away, watching Harper add another large tree to the castle grounds, this one an evergreen. Nobody speaks for a long stretch, the only sounds those of Harper’s crayon pressing against the paper and Nolan tapping the table with his thumbs. Annoyed by the monotonous rhythm, I reach over and put my hand on his, silencing him.
He glares at me, then clears his throat. “Speaking of New York,” he says. “Meredith might go up there sooner than December….”
I look at him, confused. Ellen and I have recently discussed going to the city for a girls’ weekend, but I don’t recall mentioning this to him, probably because I knew it was a long shot given my workload at the firm.
“Oh?” Mom says, glancing at me. “For work?”
“No,” Nolan quickly replies. “She just needs a break. A little getaway.”
“Wasn’t that the point of this weekend?” Mom asks, clearly as confused as I am.
“Oh, she needs a longer break than that,” he says. “A real break. From her job. And Harper. And me.” He flashes a fake smile, then forces a chuckle. “Don’t you think that would be good for her?”
Mom nods, but remains pensive. “Well, I guess time away can be good for all of us….How long of a break do you need, sweetie?”
“I don’t need a break,” I say, feeling both agitated and defensive.
Nolan musses my hair, feigning lightheartedness, and says, “Oh, yeah you do. A couple weeks will do you good.”
“A couple of weeks?” Mom and I reply in unison.
“What about Harper?” she asks as I glare at my husband.
“Oh, I have that covered. Hell. Josie’s going to be a single parent. Surely I can handle a couple of weeks on my own,” he says, as I stare at him, wondering when all of this came to him. On his run yesterday? Last night after we had sex? On the virtually silent drive back this morning?
He whistles a few bars of an unrecognizable song, then says, “Maybe I’ll take some time off, too. Do a little father-daughter bonding. Wouldn’t that be fun, Harper?”
“Uh-huh,” she says, without looking up.
“And I’m sure Nana can help a little…and Gran and Pop,” he says, referring to his parents. “And Josie, of course. Good ol’ Aunt Josie.”
Mom frowns, looking confused by the contradiction between his maniacal mood and the undertones of his message. Deep lines appear on her forehead as she asks her standard question. “Should I be worried here?”
“No,” I say.
“Oh, no,” Nolan says. “Not one bit. Meredith just needs to do some thinking. Right, Mere?”
I bite my lip and mumble a noncommittal yeah, as Mom asks what sort of thinking.
“Deep thinking,” he chirps. “Soullll searching.”
“About?” Mom asks.
At this point, I’m in damage control mode, so I simply say, “About my job.”
“So you’re seriously thinking about leaving?” she asks, her frown lines easing a bit.
I start to reply with a watered-down statement about feeling burned out, but Nolan once again answers for me. “Yes,” he says decisively, a word he almost never uses, which is why Harper continues to say yeah and uh-huh. Then he turns and looks into my eyes. “She’s seriously thinking about leaving.”
—
“WHAT THE HELL was that about?” I ask Nolan as soon as we’re back at the house and alone—as alone as you can be with Harper in the next room. My voice is measured and low, but inside I’m enraged.
“What?” he says with a passive-aggressive shrug. “I think it’s a great idea. You need some time to think.”
“Any reason you didn’t mention this idea to me first?” I ask, using my fingernail to scrape a piece of hardened shredded wheat from a cereal bowl Nolan left in the sink two mornings ago. It’s now as hard as superglue. I finally give up and put it in the dishwasher.
“Any reason you didn’t mention that you think our marriage is a joke?” he asks.
“I never said that. Nor do I think that.”
“Okay. Any reason you didn’t mention that you think our marriage was a big mistake?”
“I didn’t say that, either, Nolan,” I say, spinning around and staring at him.
He stares back at me with defiance and disdain. “What did you say, then?”
“I don’t know, Nolan….I’m just…confused.”