“Nothing.”
“I just don't know what Claire prefers anymore.”
The sentence came with no self-pity.
Just awareness.
Jenna said:
“Maybe take the simple ones.”
“Less chance of stepping on something.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Simple sounds good.”
Batteries next.
AA.
Four-pack.
The telescope required six.
Evelyn stared at the packages.
“This is robbery.”
Jenna laughed.
“Finally something we agree on.”
They selected eight.
Wrapping paper became more difficult.
Spaceships.
Dinosaurs.
Video games.
Evelyn held a roll covered in planets.
“What if he doesn't like space anymore?”
Jenna said:
“Then the paper is on the outside for thirty seconds.”
Evelyn considered that.
“Excellent point.”
Planet paper went into the cart.
They began walking toward checkout.
Jenna asked:
“Did Claire call because she changed her mind?”
“Or because Ethan asked?”
“Ethan asked.”
Evelyn said.
“That distinction matters.”
“Claire agreed for his sake.”
“She told me twice that this does not mean I’m forgiven.”
“How did that feel?”
“Terrible.”
“Necessary.”
Jenna looked at her.
Evelyn continued.
“I used to think forgiveness was something somebody owed you after you said sorry enough times.”
“My therapist asked why.”
“I didn't have an answer.”
“Now I think an apology is something I owe Claire.”
“Forgiveness is something she gets to decide.”
Jenna was quiet for several steps.
“You seem different from the person you're describing.”
“I hope so.”
“Were you always…”
She stopped.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow.
“Controlling?”
Jenna looked embarrassed.
“I was going to find a nicer word.”
“Don't.”
“Yes.”
“I was.”
“Not everywhere.”
“I had friends.”
“A career.”
“I could compromise at work.”
“But Claire was my only child.”
“Her father left when she was twelve.”
“From then on, it was us.”
“I worked.”
“Raised her.”
“Made decisions.”
“Protected.”
“Fixed.”
“By the time she was thirty-five and had a child of her own, I still thought being needed was my role.”
She looked ahead.
“Then she stopped needing direction.”
“I did not know what to become instead.”
“So you kept directing.”
“Yes.”
“That doesn't excuse it.”
“No.”
“It explains why I didn't see it.”
They passed produce.
Register four was still shortest.
Three customers.
Evelyn exhaled.
Jenna asked:
“Are you afraid Claire might still change her mind?”
Evelyn looked toward the checkout clock.
“No.”
Then she corrected herself.
“Yes.”
“But that isn't the thing I’m most afraid of.”
“What is?”
“That I’ll push too hard when I get there.”
Jenna frowned.
“You've planned all this.”
“Cake.”
“Gift.”
“Card.”
“Surely you've planned what to say.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“No speech.”
“Why?”
“Because speeches are how I used to control conversations.”
“I would arrive with fourteen points and explain until Claire was too exhausted to answer.”
Jenna smiled faintly.
“I know people who do that.”
“So do I.”
“I used to see one in the mirror.”
The line moved forward.
Evelyn continued.
“When Claire opens the door, I’m going to let her talk.”
“Even if what she says hurts.”