Violet Evergreen's Arc

Chapter 5 of 11

The house smelled like lemon cleaner and old wood. Danny set the tin on the counter and stood with his hands flat on the lid, like he needed the table to hold him up. Violet looked past him into the living room. A woman's cardigan hung on the back of a chair. A pair of reading glasses sat folded on a side table. On the dining table lay a linen cloth with flowers stitched around the border, the kind of thing a person only made by hand. His mother was in every room. Violet felt her throat close. "I made coffee," Danny said. "I'll get you a cup." He went into the kitchen without waiting for an answer. Violet stayed where she was. She still held the framed photograph under her arm. She had planned to give it to him at the door. Now the giving felt too big for the room. Her eyes stung. She needed a minute alone or she was going to cry in front of a man she had not seen in nineteen years. "Bathroom's down the hall," a voice said behind her. Violet turned. A woman stood in the front doorway with a grocery bag on her hip. She had Danny's brown eyes and a coral jacket and slippers, like she had walked over from next door without changing. She set the bag on the floor. "I'm his sister. Megan." She looked at Violet's face and read it in one pass. "First door on the left. Lock works. Take as long as you need. I'll keep him busy in the kitchen." Violet opened her mouth to thank her and could not. "Go," Megan said. "He cleaned the counters four times this morning. He won't notice." Violet went. The hall was narrow. She shut the bathroom door behind her and turned the lock. She set the frame on the edge of the sink. She sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and put her face in her hands and let it come. It was quiet crying. She had practiced quiet crying most of her life. She counted her breaths the way she counted rows in her greenhouse. In. Out. In. Out. From the kitchen she heard Megan's voice, easy and loud, asking Danny where he kept the sugar. Danny answered. A drawer opened. A spoon hit a cup. The house kept moving without her. When Violet stood up, her hands were steady. She ran cold water and pressed it to her eyes. She picked up the frame. She looked at the boy in the picture, standing beside his mother in her garden, and she knew what she was going to say when she walked back out. She unlocked the door.