Chapter 5 #2
Elena laughed. “Honestly? It’s nice to write about something real for a change.
In the past few years, I haven’t written anything I cared about.
And Natalie and I have a mile-long list of articles planned for the next few weeks.
I thought Mom would be pleased that the paper isn’t canceled for the time being, but…
” She eyed Carmen, who continued to frown at the article, as though she couldn’t make sense of the words.
After a bit of probing, James told Elena and Carmen about his weekend: his grief therapy sessions and his walk through the park.
“That’s right. Crisis management and grief therapy. It was on your business card,” Elena said. “Must be a fascinating field. And so necessary around here.” Under her breath, she added, “I know that Millbrook people tend to bottle up their sorrows and keep them locked tight.”
James felt the words like a mirror held up to his face, but he managed to smile and agree with her. “Talking helps, as simplistic as that sounds.”
Elena took a breath. Her eyes were heavy, as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t muster the words.
Just then, Carmen moved on to the following article in the stack—an interview Elena had conducted with the man who’d decorated the town Christmas tree—and cried out, “What is this garbage?”
Elena laughed outright and stood, searching through a white paper bag and removing various bottles of pills.
As delicately as she could, she suggested to Carmen that it was time to take her medicine and have a rest. Carmen was clearly exhausted and didn’t put up too much of a fight.
Before long, Elena was guiding her mother to her bedroom, leaving James sitting quietly at the kitchen table, nursing his glass of wine.
He couldn’t believe Elena had taken over responsibilities at her mother’s paper.
It was an act of tenderness that he hadn’t imagined a woman estranged from her mother for so long would spring for.
Eagerly, he read more of the articles she’d written over the weekend, plus a few that Natalie and a few other writers at the paper had done.
It went without saying that Elena was an incredible writer. Her writing was tight, informative, clever, and sharp.
It wasn’t like he was an expert, of course. But he’d spent his childhood obsessed with reading newspapers, inhaling critical essays, and trying to get his head around the world outside.
By the time Elena returned to the kitchen, it was nearly nine in the evening, and James was fully prepared to be kicked out of the house.
Instead, Elena poured him another glass of wine and sat back down.
“It means a lot that you came over,” she said gently.
And then she added, “You know, I haven’t had anyone to talk to in what feels like years.
Even sparring with Mom feels so nourishing.
” She wet her lips. “What you said about the community you’ve built in the grief therapy sessions really spoke to me.
I’ve felt…” She gestured toward her chest. “An insurmountable level of grief through the years. I guess it all started when my father died. It was incredibly sudden. I was abroad, working in Syria, and I was often unreachable. Mom was already mad at me for going abroad in the first place. She saw it as unnecessary and dangerous, especially when she wanted me to help her at The Millbrook Gazette instead. When I couldn’t make it in time for Dad’s funeral, she wanted to wash her hands of me fully. ”
James considered saying that she was angry, upset, and didn’t know what she was saying. But he felt unsure of everything, especially when faced with Elena.
Elena hesitated, her eyes shining. “She hasn’t brought up Dad since I got here.
Sometimes I wonder if she even remembers what happened between us.
Other times, I imagine she remembers everything and is waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Then again, they’re doing all these Alzheimer’s tests, speculating that she’s got early-onset.
I don’t know what to make of it. My mother is the smartest woman I know.
” Implied in what she was saying was what if the most intelligent woman I knew fell apart?
James fought the urge to reach across the table and touch her hand.
Elena sniffed and laughed at herself, reaching for a tissue to clean herself up. “It feels good to talk about, I guess. And it’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
“It’s never easy to sum everything up in a few sentences,” James said.
“You’re telling me.” Elena tried to laugh at herself.
James took a breath. “Why don’t you come out to the community center this week? You could join a therapy session, maybe meet a few more people in the community.”
Elena looked thoughtful. “I worry that my mother has already told all of you the terrible things I’ve done. But then again, Natalie didn’t seem to know.”
James hesitated.
“What do you know?” Elena tilted her head.
“I know you had a falling-out,” James said. “I know she’s missed you.”
“I’m sure she hasn’t,” Elena said, although doubt filled her voice.
James slid his thumb across the tabletop and struggled to pull his eyes from hers. “You shouldn’t have to do any of this by yourself, Elena,” he said. “Say you’ll come.”
Elena crossed her arms over her chest. For some reason, the air between them felt taut, as though you could drop a penny onto it and it would bounce.
James wondered if it was attraction, if he wasn’t the only one who felt it between them.
He reminded himself that Elena needed him in a far different way this holiday season; that her heart had broken again and again. Romance couldn’t be in the cards.
He tried a joke. “There are donuts.”
“I’ll think about it,” Elena said finally, laughing. “But only because of the donuts.”