Chapter 12
Diane told me more about Lucille.
I almost refused.
Then listened.
My wife had been angrier than I knew.
When Diane handed Evelyn over, Lucille said:
“You do not get to disappear and then return when it becomes emotionally convenient.”
Hard.
Lucille protected Evelyn fiercely.
Maybe too fiercely.
She made Diane promise no contact without discussion.
That promise later became another hiding place.
Diane told herself Lucille had forbidden her.
Not entirely true.
Lucille had forbidden unpredictable appearances.
She left open the possibility of truth later.
Diane closed it herself.
Again, people turn boundaries into excuses when excuses are useful.
I asked:
“Did Lucille ever regret taking Evelyn?”
Diane looked horrified.
“Never.”
Good.
Then:
“She loved you for saying yes without asking where the baby came from.”
I almost smiled.
“That may have been stupid.”
“It was also kind.”
Both.
Twenty-six years later, I could see how the same trait held two possibilities.
Trust can create family.
Trust can also leave questions unasked long enough to become secrets.
No simple lesson.
I missed Lucille suddenly.
Not the saint memory.
The difficult woman who would have argued with me for three days about whether Diane deserved contact.
I wished she were alive to answer for herself.
Evelyn did too.
May you like
We could be angry at the dead and still love them.
Another mixed truth.
