Chapter 7: Synthia's Last Move
Two weeks later, Synthia called me directly.
I didn't know she had my number.
That alone told me something.
"Hannah." Her voice was warm in the way that costs nothing.
"I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot, you and I.
I'd love to have coffee.
Just to clear the air."
"I don't think that's necessary," I said.
"I just feel like there's been some misunderstanding about my role in all of this.
I care about Gloria.
I've been her friend for thirty years.
I was only trying to protect her."
"From what?"
A small pause — the kind that means the answer was already prepared.
"From being manipulated by guilt.
You have to understand, Hannah, Gloria is a generous woman.
And sometimes generous people get taken advantage of."
"By whom?"
"I'm not pointing fingers." Her voice stayed smooth.
"I just think it's worth asking why, after months of no contact, you suddenly welcomed her back in.
What changed?"
I understood then.
She wasn't calling to clear the air.
She was calling to find out how much I knew, and to plant one more seed before whatever was coming next.
"Synthia," I said.
"I'm going to say this once.
You were in Gloria's home when she decided what to say to our children.
You came with her.
You laughed first.
And for the past several weeks you have been working to undo the only genuine thing she's done since then." I paused.
"I don't know what you get out of keeping her isolated and angry.
But I'm not going to pretend I don't see it."
The warmth left her voice.
"You're making a mistake," she said.
"Gloria will come around to my way of thinking.
She always does."
"Then that will be her choice," I said.
"But it won't be because you frightened her or confused her.
It'll be because she chose it with a clear head.
And if she does —" I stopped.
"Then we'll know where we stand."
She hung up.
I called Gloria immediately.
"Synthia just called me," I said.
"I want you to know what she said."
I told her everything.
Every word.
Gloria was quiet through all of it.
When I finished, she said: "She told me she was going to reach out to you.
To help."
"I know."
"She didn't tell me what she was going to say."
"I know that too."
A long pause.
"She's done this before," Gloria said finally.
"With my sister-in-law.
Years ago.
I watched her do it and I told myself it was different because she was on my side." Her voice was very quiet.
"I think I've been very stupid, Hannah."
"No," I said.
"I think you've been lonely.
And she knew how to use that."
Gloria didn't say anything for a moment.
Then: "I'd like to take the children somewhere.
Somewhere small.
A park, maybe.
If you'll let me." She paused.
"With you and Andrew there.
I'm not asking to be alone with them.
I just want — I want to try."
I looked out the window.
"Saturday," I said.
"We'll go to Riverside Park.
Eleven o'clock."
May you like
"Thank you," she said.
It was the first time she had ever said that to me and meant it.
