Chapter 7: The Call Ellen Almost Didn't Take
The call came on a Thursday evening.
Ellen was in the sitting room with a book she hadn't been reading.
I was in the kitchen.
I heard her phone buzz on the side table.
Heard her go still.
I came to the doorway.
She was looking at the screen.
Michael's name on it.
She looked up at me.
"You don't have to answer," I said.
"I know." She looked back at the phone.
It buzzed a second time.
A third.
"But I think I need to."
She answered it.
I stayed in the doorway.
She didn't ask me to leave.
"Mom." Michael's voice was audible from where I stood.
Quieter than I'd heard it in years.
"Can we talk?"
"We're talking," Ellen said.
"I mean in person.
Just us.
Without Dad."
"Whatever you want to say to me, you can say now."
A long pause.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Ellen's hand tightened on the phone.
She said nothing.
"I know that's not enough.
I know it doesn't—" His voice shifted slightly.
"Cassandra said you were trying to undermine her.
That you'd been making comments to the venue coordinator.
To her bridesmaids.
I believed her.
I shouldn't have, but I did.
And by the wedding I was so convinced that you were the problem that when she—" He stopped.
"I grabbed you.
I know what I did.
I've been trying to find a way to say that since the night Dad closed the door."
Ellen was very still.
"You watched her sl\*p me," she said.
"And then you grabbed my arm."
"Yes."
"I was on the floor, Michael."
"I know."
"I got up by myself.
In a corridor.
At your wedding.
And then I went and smiled in photographs for two hours." Her voice was quiet and precise.
"Do you understand what that cost me?"
Silence on the line.
"No," he said.
"I don't think I do."
It was, I thought, the most honest thing he had said in a very long time.
"Why did you believe her?" Ellen asked.
"Three years of Christmases and birthdays and dinners, and you believed a story she told you about a venue coordinator."
"Because I wanted the marriage to work.
And it was easier to think you were the problem than to look at what she was doing."
"Easier," Ellen repeated.
"Mom, I'm not trying to excuse it.
I'm trying to explain it."
"I know the difference," she said.
"I've been making that distinction for three years."
Another silence.
"Is there anything I can do?" Michael asked.
"I don't know yet." Ellen's voice didn't waver.
"I need you to understand something.
Your father is doing what he's doing because he saw that footage and he loves me.
I'm not going to ask him to stop.
I'm not going to soften this for you.
Whatever comes from your father's decisions, you earned it."
"I know."
"And Cassandra."
A pause.
"What about her?"
"She sl\*pped me, Michael.
In front of witnesses.
And she has spent three years telling people I was the difficult one." Ellen's voice dropped slightly.
"I want to know if you knew about the trust amendment."
The silence that followed was three seconds too long.
"Michael."
"Cassandra mentioned it," he said.
"She said Dennis had suggested it as a way to protect my interests if Dad ever—"
"If Dad ever found out."
He didn't answer.
"Thank you for calling," Ellen said.
"Don't call again for a while."
She ended the call.
Set the phone face-down on the side table.
I came and sat beside her.
She didn't speak for a long time.
The room was very quiet.
"He knew about the amendment," she said finally.
"Yes."
"He was sorry.
I think he meant it." She looked at her hands.
"But he knew."
"Yes."
She leaned back against the cushion.
Closed her eyes.
"I'm very tired, Robert."
"I know."
"Not of fighting.
Just—" She exhaled slowly.
"Of having loved him so much for so long and finding out it wasn't enough to make him protect me."
I put my hand over hers.
We sat like that for a long time.
The lamp in the corner.
The quiet house.
Twenty-two years of a garden outside the window going dark.
After a while she said, "What happens next?"
"The DA reviews the forensic report next week.
My attorney expects them to move on the forgery charge within ten days.
The share revocation is already filed.
The trust amendment dispute is in front of a judge." I paused.
"And I spoke to Gerald Forde's attorney this afternoon.
He's advising Gerald to distance himself from Cassandra's conduct.
He's worried about the bridesmaid's statement going public."
Ellen opened her eyes.
"Patricia," she said.
"She's prepared to speak to anyone who asks."
Ellen was quiet for a moment.
"I'd like to meet her," she said.
"Not for the case.
Just — I'd like to meet her."
"I'll arrange it."
She nodded.
Then she looked at me with an expression I hadn't seen on her face since before the wedding.
Something that wasn't quite relief and wasn't quite peace but was somewhere between the two.
"Robert," she said.
"When this is over — when all of it is done — I want to go somewhere.
Just us.
Somewhere I've never had to perform for anyone."
"Anywhere you want."
May you like
"I'll think about it," she said.
And for the first time in weeks, the corner of her mouth lifted into something that was, unmistakably, a smile.
