Chapter 6: Rachel's Side of It
Lily talked the entire drive back to Claire's apartment.
She wanted to know if Claire had a cat.
She wanted to know if Claire liked the same cereal she did.
She wanted to know if being sick meant Claire had to stay in bed all day or if she could still go to the park.
"You can ask her yourself," I said.
"I'm going to ask her about the cat first," Lily said seriously.
"Because if she has a cat I need to know before we go inside."
She didn't have a cat.
Lily accepted this with dignity and moved on.
Claire opened the door before we knocked.
She had changed into a different sweater — dark blue — and she had made tea.
There were three mugs on the counter, which meant she had been counting on Lily coming.
Lily walked in, looked around once, and then walked directly to Claire and hugged her around the middle without saying anything.
Claire stood very still for a moment.
Then her arms came down and she held Lily back, and she looked at me over Lily's head with an expression I didn't have a word for.
We had dinner.
Claire told Lily she was sick in careful, honest words.
Lily asked four questions, all of them practical and specific, which was exactly how Lily handled things that frightened her.
Claire answered every one.
At the end, Lily said, "Okay.
But you have to tell us things from now on.
That's the rule."
Claire said, "That's the rule."
It was after nine when I took Lily home.
She fell asleep in the car.
I carried her inside and put her to bed, and I was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water when my phone rang.
Rachel.
I let it ring twice before I answered.
"Mark." Her voice was tight.
"I need to explain."
"You don't need to do anything tonight, Rachel."
"Please.
I've been sitting in my car outside my mother's house for three hours.
I need to say this."
I set the glass down.
"All right."
She was quiet for a moment, organizing herself.
"Claire called me in October," she said.
"The night she got the diagnosis.
She was — she wasn't doing well.
I drove to her and I stayed for four days.
And when I left, she made me promise not to tell you."
"And you kept that promise for eight months."
"I kept it because I thought she would tell you herself.
Every week I thought, this is the week she tells him.
And every week she didn't." Her voice was unsteady.
"By January I was begging her.
I told her it wasn't fair to you.
She said she knew.
She still didn't tell you."
"So when she asked you to come to the wedding—"
"I said no.
At first." A pause.
"She called me the night before.
She was crying.
She said she couldn't face you.
She said if she stood at that altar she would break down and tell you everything and then you would stay and she couldn't let you stay."
"So she sent you to end it for her."
"She sent me to tell you.
That was what I was supposed to do.
Walk up to you before the ceremony and say Claire is sick and she loves you and she's letting you go." Her voice cracked.
"I got there and I saw Lily in her flower-girl dress and I saw how happy everyone looked and I — I lost my nerve.
I kept thinking, one more minute.
And then it was too late and we were at the altar and—"
"And you went through with it."
"I panicked.
I thought if I could just get through the ceremony and then explain privately—" She stopped.
"I know how that sounds."
"It sounds like a decision that made everything worse."
"Yes." No argument.
"It was.
I know it was."
I was quiet for a moment.
"Is she going to be all right?" Rachel asked.
"Claire.
Is she—"
"She says the treatment is working."
A long exhale.
"She told me the same thing last week.
I didn't know whether to believe her."
"I think she was telling the truth."
"Mark." Rachel's voice was very careful now.
"Are you going to be able to forgive her?"
I thought about Claire's face when Lily walked through the door.
The three mugs on the counter.
"I don't know yet," I said.
"But I'm not walking away from her."
A silence.
"She doesn't think she deserves that," Rachel said.
"I know." I picked up the glass of water.
"That's something she's going to have to get used to."
After I hung up, I sat for a while in the quiet kitchen.
Then I went to check on Lily.
She was sleeping on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek.
I stood in the doorway for a moment.
She had known something was wrong before I did.
She had known Claire was missing before I did.
Seven years old, and she had seen what I had stood at an altar and missed.
I turned off the hall light and went to bed.
My phone lit up once more before I fell asleep.
A text from Claire: *Thank you for tonight.
Lily asked me to text her goodnight but I don't have her number.
Can you tell her I said it?*
I smiled at the ceiling.
Then I went to Lily's room and whispered it in the dark.
May you like
She didn't wake up.
But she smiled.
