T-shirts.”
“After I’ve gone through it,” Natalie said. “I illustrated a few ads in there.”
As she took the mail from her daughter, Natalie surreptitiously looked her over from head to toe. Stuart’s idea to keep her home from school had been a good one. The rose had come back to Beth’s cheeks, and she even managed an occasional smile. Happily, there had been no further mention of the previous day. While Stuart was trying to find out who had pulled the trick, Natalie was just glad that Beth wasn’t dwelling on her “vision” of Peter.
Beth leaned over her mother’s shoulder and eyed the top of the drawing table. “What’re you drawing today?”
“A necklace,” Natalie said, picking up a strand ofgray-and-blue beads. “It just came in from Snyder’s and Company. I’m sketching it for Little Extras magazine. But I’ve been daydreaming all morning and I’m not getting much work done.”
Beth reached toward the beads and fingered them gently. “Pretty,” she said.
“I wish I could afford them,” Natalie joked.
Beth shifted from one foot to the other, tilting her head. “When Daddy sells his big building, we’ll have lots of money,” she said. Without looking at her mother, she added, “How come some people don’t want him to build?”
“What do you know about that?” Natalie asked.
“I heard you talking,” Beth said with a shrug. “I heard Daddy say somebody must have dressed up like Peter to make me so sad Daddy would forget all about the office building.”
Natalie felt an uncomfortable knot of guilt twist inside her. She picked up a ruler and pretended to sketch in lines for copy.
Beth spoke again before she could conjure up an answer. “Do you think I should go live with Grandma?”
Natalie put the ruler down and swiveled her chair. “What on earth for?”
“Maybe if I go live with Grandma,” Beth said, “then nobody will stop Daddy from doing his work. It’s ’cause of me, I know it. Everyone thinks I’m weird. The kids at school must have told their parents, and I guess those parents don’t want Daddy putting up buildings. I guess they think he’s weird, too.”
“Oh, Beth,” Natalie cried.
She took her daughter into her arms. In that moment, years of reports from the school came back to her, reports that said her daughter was painfully shy, unwilling to participate. Well, they’d finally done it! They’d crushed this child’s self-esteem so badly that Beth just wanted to run away and make things right.
“Elizabeth,” Natalie said, “don’t ever say that again. You are not weird.”
“But I hear things, Mom,” Beth protested. “And I see things no one else does.”
“You have daydreams,” Natalie corrected.
“I saw Peter.”
Oh, God, not that again!
Natalie pushed her daughter gently away, holding her at arm’s length. “You didn’t see Peter,” she said. “You saw someone who looked like him. We’ve already discussed this, Beth.”
Beth jerked away. “You talked about it before,” she cried. “You and Daddy. But not me. No one listens to me.” With tears streaming down her cheeks, she turned and raced from the room. She slammed the door shut with such force that a pencil holder on Natalie’s drawing table fell to the floor.
Natalie started after her, but stopped herself. No, Beth needed time to sort things out for herself. She needed to face the reality of Peter’s death.
Much as she wanted to run to her daughter’s aid, Natalie knew she had to give Beth some space. And so, with shaking hands, she started sorting through the pile of mail Beth had just brought up. Bills, a welcome check, more bills, advertisements.
And a manila envelope postmarked Santa Fe, New Mexico.
For a few moments, Natalie stared at the carefully printed address. She knew the right thing to do. Tear the envelope without ever opening it. As Stuart would say, don’t give ‘them’ the satisfaction of seeing how startled she was. Seeing . .
“After I’ve gone through it,” Natalie said. “I illustrated a few ads in there.”
As she took the mail from her daughter, Natalie surreptitiously looked her over from head to toe. Stuart’s idea to keep her home from school had been a good one. The rose had come back to Beth’s cheeks, and she even managed an occasional smile. Happily, there had been no further mention of the previous day. While Stuart was trying to find out who had pulled the trick, Natalie was just glad that Beth wasn’t dwelling on her “vision” of Peter.
Beth leaned over her mother’s shoulder and eyed the top of the drawing table. “What’re you drawing today?”
“A necklace,” Natalie said, picking up a strand ofgray-and-blue beads. “It just came in from Snyder’s and Company. I’m sketching it for Little Extras magazine. But I’ve been daydreaming all morning and I’m not getting much work done.”
Beth reached toward the beads and fingered them gently. “Pretty,” she said.
“I wish I could afford them,” Natalie joked.
Beth shifted from one foot to the other, tilting her head. “When Daddy sells his big building, we’ll have lots of money,” she said. Without looking at her mother, she added, “How come some people don’t want him to build?”
“What do you know about that?” Natalie asked.
“I heard you talking,” Beth said with a shrug. “I heard Daddy say somebody must have dressed up like Peter to make me so sad Daddy would forget all about the office building.”
Natalie felt an uncomfortable knot of guilt twist inside her. She picked up a ruler and pretended to sketch in lines for copy.
Beth spoke again before she could conjure up an answer. “Do you think I should go live with Grandma?”
Natalie put the ruler down and swiveled her chair. “What on earth for?”
“Maybe if I go live with Grandma,” Beth said, “then nobody will stop Daddy from doing his work. It’s ’cause of me, I know it. Everyone thinks I’m weird. The kids at school must have told their parents, and I guess those parents don’t want Daddy putting up buildings. I guess they think he’s weird, too.”
“Oh, Beth,” Natalie cried.
She took her daughter into her arms. In that moment, years of reports from the school came back to her, reports that said her daughter was painfully shy, unwilling to participate. Well, they’d finally done it! They’d crushed this child’s self-esteem so badly that Beth just wanted to run away and make things right.
“Elizabeth,” Natalie said, “don’t ever say that again. You are not weird.”
“But I hear things, Mom,” Beth protested. “And I see things no one else does.”
“You have daydreams,” Natalie corrected.
“I saw Peter.”
Oh, God, not that again!
Natalie pushed her daughter gently away, holding her at arm’s length. “You didn’t see Peter,” she said. “You saw someone who looked like him. We’ve already discussed this, Beth.”
Beth jerked away. “You talked about it before,” she cried. “You and Daddy. But not me. No one listens to me.” With tears streaming down her cheeks, she turned and raced from the room. She slammed the door shut with such force that a pencil holder on Natalie’s drawing table fell to the floor.
Natalie started after her, but stopped herself. No, Beth needed time to sort things out for herself. She needed to face the reality of Peter’s death.
Much as she wanted to run to her daughter’s aid, Natalie knew she had to give Beth some space. And so, with shaking hands, she started sorting through the pile of mail Beth had just brought up. Bills, a welcome check, more bills, advertisements.
And a manila envelope postmarked Santa Fe, New Mexico.
For a few moments, Natalie stared at the carefully printed address. She knew the right thing to do. Tear the envelope without ever opening it. As Stuart would say, don’t give ‘them’ the satisfaction of seeing how startled she was. Seeing . .
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