Chapter 13
Diane requested mediation with Audrey.
Audrey refused.
Then accepted one meeting eighteen months later after Emma’s therapist said Audrey might benefit from hearing whether Diane understood what she had done.
Emma did not attend.
Lily did not attend.
Mark did not attend.
Diane entered wearing pearls.
For a moment Audrey remembered every Christmas, baptism, school recital, and family dinner where those pearls had meant authority.
Now they were jewelry.
Nothing more.
Diane spoke first.
“I should never have hit Emma.”
Audrey waited.
“I was angry.”
“At a ten-year-old.”
“At what she said.”
“What did she say?”
Diane looked down.
“She asked why the boys always mattered more.”
Audrey stared.
“So she asked the correct question.”
Diane’s eyes hardened briefly.
Then softened.
“I was raised differently.”
“You were sixty-five.”
Silence.
Audrey continued.
“Your childhood did not slap Emma.”
Diane looked away.
Then Audrey asked:
“Why the house?”
Diane tried the financial explanation.
Ridgeway was viable.
The collateral was temporary.
The family had previously owned the property.
Audrey stopped her.
“No. Why did you believe you had the right?”
Diane took a long time.
Finally:
“Because Richard sold that house when he was cornered.”
“To me.”
“Yes.”
“At market value.”
“Yes.”
“I paid him.”
“Yes.”
“Then what remained yours?”
Diane’s voice became quieter.
“The history.”
Audrey almost laughed.
“History does not record mortgages.”
Diane looked ashamed.
Then she said:
“I thought Mark would eventually put the house back into the family.”
“It was in the family.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
Audrey did.
Male ownership.
Male name.
Male continuity.
The daughters were family when photographs were taken.
Not when control was discussed.
Diane whispered:
“I was afraid everything Richard built would scatter.”
“So you taught Emma she was the scattering.”
Diane began crying.
Audrey did not rescue her from the sentence.
Then Diane asked:
“Will the girls ever see me again?”
Audrey answered carefully.
“Lily asks about you.”
Hope appeared.
Audrey continued.
“Emma does not.”
The hope disappeared.
“You don’t get one answer for two children.”
Diane closed her eyes.
“Can I write?”
“Through their therapist.”
“Will you give them the letters?”
“If and when it is appropriate.”
Diane nodded.
Audrey stood.
Then Diane said:
“I did love them.”
Audrey turned.
“I believe you.”
Diane looked surprised.
May you like
Audrey continued.
“That is why you need to understand that love did not make what you did smaller.”
