CHAPTER 29: THE WOMAN ACROSS THE STREET
Patricia saw Laurel on Sunday morning.
We were carrying groceries from the car when her front door opened.
She stood on the porch wearing a gray sweater.
Laurel stopped beside me.
For a moment, the street seemed to return to that night at the cabin.
Patricia walked to the bottom step but did not cross the road.
“Laurel,” she called.
My sister took a breath.
“Patricia.”
“I’ve wanted to explain.”
“I know.”
“Owen won’t speak to me.”
Laurel set the grocery bag down.
“That’s his decision.”
“You could tell him I meant well.
”
“I already told him you helped when he was little.”
Patricia looked hopeful.
“Then why won’t he see me?”
“Because you frightened his daughter,” Laurel replied.
Patricia turned pale.
“I never touched that child.”
“You didn’t have to.”
The words seemed to strike her more deeply than an accusation would have.
Patricia stared across the road.
“I gave up my marriage for him.”
“Martin left because of the choices you made afterward,” Laurel said.
“Owen didn’t make those choices for you.”
Patricia looked toward me, expecting support or opposition.
I said nothing.
This conversation belonged to the two women who had carried different versions of the same history.
Laurel lifted the grocery bag again.
“I hope you get help with the things that hurt you,” she said.
“But we can’t become the family you imagined simply because you need us to.”
She walked into the house.
Patricia remained on her porch for several minutes.
Then she turned and closed the door gently.
