“I was angry.”
“With Tiana?”
“With myself.”
He did not understand.
Neither did she fully.
Marcus sent him back upstairs after several minutes.
The moment he disappeared, Vanessa said:
“You see?”
“What?”
“If you end this, you hurt them too.”
Marcus looked at her.
“That cannot be why I stay.”
“Why not?”
“Because then we teach all three children that marriage means tolerating whatever happens as long as leaving is inconvenient.”
Vanessa sank onto the sofa.
“What do you want from me?”
“Truth.”
“I’ve told you.”
“No.”
“You explained how you felt.”
“That is not the same as taking responsibility for what you did.”
She stared.
Marcus continued.
“You excluded her.”
“Yes.”
“You belittled her.”
Vanessa swallowed.
“Yes.”
“You made her feel like a guest.”
“Yes.”
“You asked your kids not to call her their sister.”
Vanessa hesitated.
Then:
“Yes.”
“You told her mother was gone and she needed to stop inserting herself into things?”
Vanessa looked up sharply.
Marcus’s face answered before she asked.
“Tiana told you?”
“Maya did.”
Vanessa looked devastated.
Not by what she had said.
By who heard it.
Marcus noticed.
“See?”
She frowned.
“What?”
“You’re still thinking about yourself.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Maybe.”
“But I need you to think about what that sentence sounded like to a thirteen-year-old whose mother is dead.”
Vanessa lowered her head.
For the first time, she did not argue.
Upstairs, Tiana lay between Maya and Jordan while the movie played.
Neither child said much.
At some point Jordan asked:
“Would you want us to leave?”
Tiana sat up.
“What?”
“If Mom leaves.”
“No.”
He looked toward her.
“You hate her.”
Tiana thought.
“I’m angry.”
“Same.”
“But I don’t hate you.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t hate Maya.”
“I know.”
“And I don't want either of you to lose Dad because adults screwed something up.”
Jordan looked surprised.
“You said screwed.”
Tiana almost laughed.
“Focus.”
He smiled despite tears.
Maya whispered:
“What do you want?”
The question was harder.
Tiana thought of the photograph.
Vanessa’s hand.
Just our family.
She thought of years of small exclusions.
Then Marcus’s face upstairs.
“I want to stop being afraid to tell the truth.”
Maya nodded.
That was enough.
The following morning the house felt unfamiliar.
Marcus slept in the guest room.