Love Walked In (19 page)

“Cornelia, you know me.” Martin had tears in his eyes, but they didn’t change anything. “You know who I am. I made a mistake. It was a terrible mistake. But don’t let the mistake get the last word. Do you see what I mean?”

I did.

“I love you. Let that matter too. Don’t leave me now. I can’t lose you now. Do you understand that?”

I did. I understood, and I was already gone.

In
the middle of a dream in which she was walking through fog, Clare heard a door slam, and the sound was like a tug, like a shiny hook taking her by the belt loop and lifting her sharply out of the fog, out of sleep altogether. No, was her first thought. Not again. For a few groggy seconds, it was nighttime, and she was back in her house, alone with her mother’s roaming in the frangible, untrustworthy quiet nighttime always brought.

She sat up in bed. Her mother’s bed. She saw that she was fully dressed, and the present came back to her in a rush. It
was
nighttime; she
was
in her house; but her mother was gone. Clare was flooded first with relief and then with guilt at the relief. “I don’t mean I don’t want her here,” she whispered to whatever or whomever might be in the business of listening to and granting desires. She couldn’t risk any misunderstandings.

When she’d opened her front door to the man in the tiny glasses, her hope that her mother would come home for Christmas had, with a mocking sneer, deserted her. So when she heard the door slam, the idea that it could be her mother returning did not even enter her mind. When she was awake enough to worry, her first thought was that her father had driven separately; Teo and Cornelia might be getting into Teo’s car and leaving her with her father. She threw off the quilt someone had put over her and ran into her own room in the front of the house. If someone was leaving, she prayed into the darkness, let it be her father.

It was. As Clare watched, he walked across the front lawn toward where his small car gleamed silver and spaceship-like against the snow. Halfway there, he turned back, took a step toward the house, then stopped, rubbed his forehead with his palm, turned again, and walked the rest of the way to his car. As soon as he started his engine, Clare padded down the stairs. When she got to the bottom, she heard another door open and shut—the back door this time—and she moved noiselessly through the house into the mud room, which had a window that looked out onto the backyard. Carefully, she moved a row of boots and gardening clogs and sat down on the old wooden bench by the window.

The backyard was startlingly bright, and Clare realized that her mother must have set the floodlights to come on at nightfall, as she always did when they went away. Briefly, she wondered at the mysterious nature of her mother’s mind, how easily it slipped between confusion and clarity, how, in certain respects, it remained so capable. The woman who made plane reservations and set timers was also the woman who walked out into the cold in a summer dress.

Clare didn’t consider all of this for long, though, because out the window, just feet away, she saw Teo sitting in one of the white Adirondack chairs and then saw Cornelia approaching him, holding a glass of wine in each gloved hand. When she was sure they weren’t looking, she slid the window open a few inches. Cornelia handed a glass to Teo and sat down in the other chair. From her place in the dark, Clare could see both of them clearly, could see their little clouds of breath and tears starting in Cornelia’s eyes. It was like watching a play. I’m spying, Clare thought. And she felt bad about it, but not very bad. Her life was being decided all around her. If she couldn’t control what happened to her, she could at least try to keep up.

“He lied to me. Not that that’s the worst of it. Not that it even matters, relative to everything else. But he lied to me, twice—three times if you count what just happened. A few hours ago, upstairs, he said he wished he’d known what was happening. He sounded so…I felt sorry for him. Idiot that I am.” Cornelia’s voice was vibrant with bitterness.

“Why are you an idiot? For trusting someone you love?” Teo said. He sounded tired, flattened out.

Cornelia shot him an astounded, baffled look. “Teo! Is that what you thought? No, not that. It’s not as bad as that. Liked. Liked a lot. Never loved.” She paused. “Did I seem to be in love with him?”

Teo swirled the wine around in his glass thoughtfully. Then he looked at Cornelia. “No. I mean, I don’t know what you look like in love. But no, I guess not. I guess I just figured you were since he’s—” Teo broke off. What? Clare wondered. He’s what?

Cornelia shifted her gaze to the sky, even though Clare knew that with all that light out there, the sky wouldn’t be much of anything but black. “I wanted to be,” she said softly. “I got swept up in wanting to be. I overlooked so much.”

Teo gazed at the sky too. “Anyone would have, I bet. I don’t think love is blind, but wanting to be in love, that’s probably blind. You couldn’t help it.”

“No, don’t give me that kind of credit. If I’d been blind…But I wasn’t. I saw, but I put aside or explained away. I refused to add things up.” Cornelia sighed. “And the truth is, I wasn’t stunned when you said what you said in the kitchen. If I found out someone else—you, for instance—decided to ignore a child’s cries for help, I would be stunned.”

“Oh,” breathed Clare. She pressed her fingers to her mouth, but Cornelia and Teo hadn’t heard her. So that was it. Her phone call to her father.

Cornelia stopped looking at the sky and looked at Teo, fiercely. “Not even stunned. I’d smite whoever said it down in his tracks. The lying bastard.”

Teo tilted his face away, but Clare thought she saw him smile. When he turned back to Cornelia, though, he was somber.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Or maybe I should be sorry I told you at all. Or told you like I did, in front of Martin.”

Cornelia poked him in the shoulder. “Stop. I won’t allow it. You know and I know that you did try. Or started to try. Last night. Before I turned into a rattlesnake and bit you.”

Clare didn’t know what Cornelia was talking about, but she saw that whatever had happened last night, no one was mad about it now.

Cornelia clapped her hands to her forehead and gave a frustrated hiss. “What is the matter with me?
Why
did I want so badly to be in love with him?”

Teo laughed and said, “You mean what did you see in him? Come on, Cornelia!”

“Quiet, you.” She stabbed her forefinger in his direction and glowered.

“If the resemblance were any stronger, he’d probably be in violation of copyright laws.” Teo laughed again.

“You find yourself so amusing, don’t you, little boy?” Cornelia was shaking her head, but smiling at the same time.

“The Grant estate could sue.”

They both laughed. Clare didn’t follow any of what they said, but she understood the laughing. She understood that a few minutes ago, Cornelia had had tears on her face and now she and Teo were laughing together.

Clare remembered that the two of them had grown up together, and she wondered if this was how brothers and sisters acted around each other all the time. Probably not. She considered the brothers and sisters she knew. Cornelia and Teo were sort of like brother and sister, but also were something else. A kind of energy danced between them. It dawned on her that this was what a friendship between a man and a woman looked like, and she felt dizzy and privileged, as though she’d gotten a glimpse into a new world.

“And it’s not just that,” said Teo, as their laughter subsided. “Charm, wit, sophistication, what even I can tell are great clothes. I bet his apartment looks like something out of a magazine. If I Googled ‘Cornelia’s dream man,’ he’s exactly what would show up on the screen.”

“Am I hopelessly shallow?” asked Cornelia, wistfully, and Clare knew she wanted a serious answer, even if the question didn’t sound entirely serious. As she spoke, Cornelia leaned her head against the back of her chair and looked into Teo’s face. He looked back for a second.

“Nope,” he said, and his tone was brisk. “Nothing hopeless about you.”

They sat drinking their wine and staring straight ahead. If the light outside hadn’t been so brilliant, they would have seen Clare for sure. Then Cornelia spoke. What she said nearly sent Clare running out into the yard.

“He went for a drive. When he comes back, I’m telling him it’s over. Because it’s over. I’m leaving.”

Teo sat still, not looking at Cornelia or saying anything. Clare’s breathing began to come hard.

“I can’t be with him, Teo.” Her voice was defiant.

Still, Teo kept silent. Cornelia stood up and began to pace. Clare felt desolate. It was over then, the safe feeling, the not being alone. Over, over, over. The word repeated itself in her head with the force of heavy footsteps, something bad coming closer and closer.

“I just can’t do it. You know I can’t, Teo. It’s unthinkable.” Cornelia’s voice got higher as she paced.

“It is. It’s unthinkable,” said Teo evenly. “And it would only be for a little while. Just until they find her.”

Cornelia stopped in front of Teo, her arms wrapped around her middle. Standing there, hugging herself, with her back to Clare, she was tiny, like a little girl.

“I’m supposed to what? Pretend to be in love with him?” Cornelia almost spat the words.

Teo stood up fast and put a hand on Cornelia’s shoulder. “No,” he said. “Of course not. Just talk to him, work on your relationship.”

“
Pretend
to work on our relationship?”

Teo grimaced, his hand still on Cornelia’s shoulder. He seemed to be ashamed of something, but Clare didn’t know what. But he didn’t look away from Cornelia’s face.

“No one could expect me to do that,” said Cornelia, angrily.

“No,” said Teo, his gaze steady.

“I just want to get away from him,” said Cornelia, pleading.

“I know you do,” said Teo kindly.
So
kindly, Clare thought, Teo couldn’t have any reason to be ashamed. Clare believed he was the nicest man in the world.

Cornelia reached up and held on with both hands to Teo’s arm. She was crying.

“You’re right,” she said, hollowly. “I can’t leave her. Of course, I can’t. Especially not now, after everything I know.”

Her, Clare thought. I’m the her she means.

“It’s not fair,” said Teo. “I’m sorry.” He pulled Cornelia to him and hugged her.

Clare wished she could hug her too. Clare whispered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” whispered it over and over, filling the small room she sat in with the words.

“Teo,” said Cornelia, almost whispering, “what if I mess up?”

“Mess up what?”

“You saw Clare’s face when she opened the door tonight. She’s fragile. I don’t know how to be responsible for a child that fragile.”

“You won’t mess up.”

Cornelia pulled away from Teo. “OK. But you, you have to go, OK? Tomorrow.”

“I know.” Teo nodded. “I will.”

“I can’t stand to have you watch,” said Cornelia. “And anyway, you have your life. We can’t have you getting fired. By the hospital or by Ollie.” She laughed a brittle laugh and wiped her face roughly with her hand. Then she said, “Let’s go in.”

Teo picked up their wineglasses.

“But Teo,” Cornelia said, suddenly sounding almost frightened, “if I call you, will you come back?” Then, in a more normal tone, “Because Clare might want you. I think she’s in love.”

I am, Clare thought and smiled to herself.

“Yeah,” said Teo. “If you call me, I’ll come back.”

Clare ran up the stairs to her mother’s room and slipped under the quilt. Her heart was pounding. For a long time, she lay awake, thinking of how finding out how her father had treated Clare had made Cornelia want to leave him, and of how, for the same reason, Cornelia was staying. For her, Cornelia had decided to stay. She must like me, Clare thought happily. Teo, too. They must both like me. Holding this thought close, she fell asleep.

When
Clare came downstairs the next morning, Cornelia was sitting alone at the kitchen table with her forehead resting on her crossed arms. It was the precise position the younger kids at Clare’s school used for their ten-minute rests after lunch, and Clare had always liked how it felt inside the small space her arms made: private, alone with the sound of her breath and, at the same time, linked to the other children in the darkened room who were each alone in the same way. But here, at the table, Cornelia was the only one with her head down; she really was alone.

Clare noticed the way Cornelia’s cropped hair tapered down the back of her head; she noticed the slight depression in the center of her neck and one bump of vertebrae above her shirt collar. Cornelia lives in her body just like I live in mine, Clare understood suddenly. She’s the main character in her story, just like I’m the main character in mine. Clare couldn’t have explained these thoughts or accounted for her feeling of astonishment as she thought them. The thoughts seemed obvious, but were not. Somehow, they were revelations.

“Cornelia?” said Clare softly. Cornelia lifted her head, raising her shoulders as though the sound of her name had startled her. Clare wondered if she’d been sleeping. When Cornelia saw Clare, her shoulders relaxed, and she said, gently, “Hey, there. Hungry?”

“Starving,” answered Clare. She poked around the kitchen and found two pies, untouched—apple and pumpkin. They didn’t eat dessert without me, she thought, and this fact filled her with warmth.

“Cornelia,” Clare said mischievously, “let’s have pie.”

Cornelia laughed and said, “You know, suddenly, I’m starving too. If you’d cut me a big old slab of apple, honey, I’d be much obliged.”

As they ate, Clare asked, “Did Teo leave?” and Cornelia looked taken aback for a second. Then she said, “Teo is one of those lunatics who gets up at daybreak and goes running in the cold. I expect him back any minute begging us to put him in the oven to thaw. Will he fit, do you think?” They both looked at the giant oven.

“Maybe we can do half of him at a time,” said Clare.

“Good idea.” Cornelia smiled, then she said, seriously, “But he
is
leaving today. His patients need him.”

“Oh,” said Clare, taking care to sound disappointed. She was, actually, but she knew he’d come back if Cornelia called him. She knew she’d see him again. “I guess Ollie needs him too.”

“Sure, she does. Ollie doesn’t always know that she needs people, but she must need Teo.”