Chapter 12 - Diane’s First Apology Was About the Slap—Her Second Was About the Money
We did not speak for:
four months.
Then Diane wrote:
I am sorry I hit you.
One sentence.
I accepted:
the fact of the apology.
Not relationship.
Later, after she moved, she asked to meet.
Public place.
No Lily.
I agreed.
Diane looked smaller somehow.
Not physically.
Less surrounded by:
her house,
her traditions,
her authority.
She said:
“I was angry because you were leaving.”
“I know.”
“I felt like you were doing what you always do.”
“What?”
“Deciding you don’t need us.”
That surprised me.
“I have spent years paying your bills because I was terrified you thought I didn’t need you.”
She looked down.
“I know that now.”
Then:
“I didn’t realize how much you were paying.”
I stared.
“You used the card.”
“I know.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
She began crying.
“I stopped counting.”
There.
That was the entitlement.
Not a plotted theft.
Habit.
Claire pays.
The card works.
The mortgage gets covered.
Thanksgiving arrives.
Why examine:
who?
Diane continued.
“I also told Rebecca I was paying for things you paid for.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She hesitated.
Then:
“Because I wanted her to think I could still help.”
That made sense.
Painfully.
Diane had lost:
husband,
financial confidence,
parental centrality.
My money allowed her to continue performing:
provider.
She used my resources to preserve:
her identity.
Then resented me for having the power that made the performance possible.
“I’m sorry.”
That was her second apology.
Better.
More specific.
Still not a demand for forgiveness.
May you like
Good.
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