Chapter 11
Sadie asked about Celeste after five days.
Not Owen.
Celeste.
Children remember whoever interacted with them most.
“Where cousin Celeste?”
“At her house.”
“Mad?”
“Maybe.”
“At Mommy?”
I paused.
“Celeste made bad choices.”
Sadie touched Maya’s dress.
The same one from the donor dinner had been cleaned.
Maya kept it.
I wondered why.
Then Sadie asked:
“Candle gone?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have birthday candles?”
My heart tightened.
Maya answered first.
“Of course.”
Good.
Do not let one cruel moment steal ordinary things.
That evening we lit one candle on a cupcake.
Not because it was anyone’s birthday.
Sadie wanted to practice.
She stared at the flame.
Maya sat beside her.
I waited.
Sadie blew it out.
Then laughed.
Simple.
Reclamation without speeches.
Later Maya told me why she kept the dress.
“I almost threw it away.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Celeste doesn’t get to decide what clothes become frightening.”
Good.
Then she became serious.
“Victor.”
“Yes?”
“If I had told you earlier that Celeste treated me like an outsider, would you have done anything?”
Another hard question.
I thought.
“Not enough.”
She nodded.
That hurt.
I continued.
“I kept thinking you two would adjust.”
“She wasn’t adjusting.”
“I know.”
“I was.”
There.
Of course.
The younger wife.
The outsider.
The one expected to absorb insult gracefully because family elders had history.
I had called her patience.
It was pressure.
“I’m sorry.”
Maya leaned against me.
“Do better.”
Not forgive me.
Not it’s okay.
May you like
Do better.
I could work with that.
