Chapter 8: The Moment Julian Understood
Julian showed up at Diane's door at seven that evening.
I saw him through the window before he knocked — standing on the front step with his hands in his coat pockets, breath fogging in the cold air.
He looked smaller than I remembered.
Or maybe I was just seeing him differently now.
Diane answered the door.
"Elena's asleep," she said.
"You're not coming in."
"I need to talk to my wife."
"She can hear you from here."
I stepped into the hallway behind Diane.
Julian looked past her at me.
"They took her journal," he said.
"My mother's journal.
They took it and now her lawyer is saying there may be criminal charges."
"I know," I said.
"Did you know what was in it?"
"No.
I found out today."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"This is out of control.
This is so far past what I thought—" He stopped.
"I didn't know about the other times.
With Elena.
I swear to you I didn't know it had happened before."
"You knew about December 27th.
You were there."
"I thought it was—" He stopped again.
"I thought she was just being dramatic.
My mother.
I thought it was one of her things and it would be over in an hour and Elena wouldn't even remember."
"She remembered."
He looked at the floor.
"I know."
"She told a doctor.
She told a CPS investigator.
She told them clearly and calmly and in detail.
Our six-year-old daughter."
Julian's jaw tightened.
Not with anger.
With something that looked like it might be shame, if it was allowed to go all the way.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked.
"I want you to cooperate fully with the investigation.
I want you to tell them everything you saw and everything you knew.
And I want you to understand that if you try to use my mental health history against me in any proceeding, I have a recording of you telling my sister exactly how you planned to do that."
The color left his face.
"Diane recorded that call."
"She did."
He was quiet for a long moment.
A car passed on the street behind him.
The cold air moved between us.
"I was scared," he said finally.
"I didn't know how bad it was going to get and I was scared and I said things I shouldn't have said."
"You were protecting yourself."
"Yes."
"Instead of Elena."
He didn't answer that.
He couldn't.
"Go home, Julian," I said.
"Talk to your lawyer.
Tell the investigators the truth.
That's all you can do now."
He stood there for another moment.
Then he nodded once, turned, and walked back to his car.
Diane closed the door.
We stood in the hallway together, listening to his engine start and fade down the street.
"Do you believe him?" Diane asked.
"That he didn't know about the other times?"
I thought about it honestly.
"I believe he told himself he didn't know.
I think he looked away on purpose and called it not knowing." I moved toward the kitchen.
"That's almost worse."
"Almost?"
"Victoria knew exactly what she was doing.
Julian just chose not to look." I filled a glass of water at the sink.
"One of them is a crjminal.
The other one is a coward.
I'm not sure which is harder to forgive."
Diane leaned against the counter.
"You don't have to decide that tonight."
"No," I said.
"I don't."
From upstairs, Elena made a small sound in her sleep.
I set down the glass and went to check on her.
She was fine.
Curled on her side, rabbit tucked under her chin, the purple giraffe picture folded on the nightstand where she could see it in the morning.
I stood in the doorway for a moment.
Then I went back downstairs and called Carol.
"Julian came to the house," I said.
"He didn't threaten anything.
He was scared."
"Good," Carol said.
"Scared cooperates.
I'll follow up with his attorney tomorrow." A pause.
"How are you holding up?"
I looked around Diane's kitchen.
The soup pot still on the stove.
The coffee mugs.
The small ordinary warmth of a house where someone was glad I was there.
"Better than I was two days ago," I said.
"That's enough for now," Carol said.
May you like
"Get some sleep."
I did.
