Chapter 10. Alice
ALICE
Alice held up the houndstooth blazer, which her mother liked because Cait had sent it from Milan, and apparently, it was quite expensive.
“How about this?” she asked.
“I don’t have shoes to match.”
Alice grabbed a pair of black loafers off the side door. “Wear these.”
“I won’t look like an old lady?”
“Never,” Alice said.
Nora laughed. “I’ll wear it with a black turtleneck, then. And maybe a scarf.”
Alice lay a pair of trousers and a black turtleneck on the bed next to the blazer. “I know today’s going to be tough,” she said. “As much as I don’t understand why Cait invited Luke, it’s nice of you to try.”
Her mother sat on the bed and picked at the pilling on the blazer’s elbow. “It’s important to Cait, so it’s important.”
Alice sat next to her. “You’re a good mom.”
Nora smiled weakly. “It’s hard to be a mother when you never had one yourself.”
“It’s hard to be a mother full stop.” Alice stood and walked to the closet. She did not want to linger on the subject. It brought up her doubts about the pregnancy, and she worried Nora would notice again. “Where are your scarves?”
Nora pointed to the top shelf. “Somewhere in all that mess.”
Standing on a step stool, Alice rummaged through the boxes. “I’m going to clean out your closet next weekend,” she said over her shoulder. “One of these could fall on you and—”
“Leave that one be!” Nora stood up from the bed.
Alice inspected the shoebox in her hands. It was worn along the edges and wrapped tightly in a yellowed ribbon. “Why?”
Nora held on to the bed rail and sat again. “Just put it back.” She motioned at the box. “I don’t want to see it.”
Alice turned to the shelf, now even more disheveled, then back to her mother. “What’s in here?” She gave the box a slight shake. Had her parents saved some of Topher’s ashes?
“I told you. Please—just put it back where you found it.”
“Okay,” Alice said. As much as she wanted to know what was in the box, she had no interest in upsetting her mother any more, and after discovering the Hustler in James’s duffel yesterday, she figured maybe it was best to leave well enough alone.
Anyway, her mother was entitled to her privacy.
She stuffed the box on top of a plastic bin that was labeled HANDBAGS but looked like it held yarn, and grabbed the basket of scarves, which she placed on the bed.
“I’m sorry,” Nora said as Alice laid different scarf options against the blazer. “I didn’t mean to shout at you.”
Alice noticed her mother’s hands were shaking and reached for them. “What’s going on?” she asked. “What’s in there?”
“It’s the condolence cards,” Nora said after a moment. “For Topher.”
Alice sat on the bed and stared at the box in the closet. Then, thinking about Luke’s imminent arrival, she said, “I still can’t believe Mrs. Larkin never reached out after Topher died. I know there was so much history and everything, but some kind of—”
“She did,” Nora said. “She sent a card.”
Alice was confused. She had been the one to respond to all the cards on behalf of the family, and she was sure she’d have remembered one from Mrs. Larkin. “When?”
“Oh, it must have been nearly a year after—”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me? What did it say?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know why you never told me, or you don’t know what it said?”
“I never read it.”
Her mother’s eyes watered, but Alice couldn’t let this go without some kind of explanation. “Did you keep it?” she pressed. “Is it still in the box with the others?”
“They’re all in there,” Nora said. She shook her head. “Every day I look up at that box, and I wish it wasn’t there.”
“We can put it somewhere else,” Alice said. “There’s no need for you to suffer like that.”
“I tried, but I can’t make myself do it,” Nora said. “But I’m glad you know now. You can do with it what you want.”
“Me? What should I do with it?”
Instead of answering, her mother stood and picked up the red silk scarf Alice had draped across the jacket. “I like this one,” she said. “It’s cheery, don’t you think?”
Alice nodded, then turned back to the closet. The knowledge that Mrs. Larkin’s unopened card was in there—and that her mother did not want anything to do with it—was another burden she could have done without that day.