Chapter 14 - SHE PUT THE BABY UNDER THE PORTRAIT ON PURPOSE.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
The nanny remained standing near the library door.
Evelyn stared at Michelle.
Christopher looked furious.
Mercer looked as if he had just discovered the meeting had become far more expensive.
Michelle's words hung in the room.
I wanted to know whether somebody else would see it too.
Evelyn recovered first.
“You moved the babies beneath the portrait as a test?”
Michelle winced.
“When you say it like that—”
“How else should I say it?”
“I didn't touch them.”
“That is not the point.”
“I didn't endanger them.”
“You used them.”
Michelle's face hardened.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I wanted to know whether I was imagining something.”
“So you arranged a room.”
“I changed a seating location.”
“You arranged a room.”
Christopher stepped forward.
“This is enough.”
Evelyn turned on him.
“You knew?”
“No.”
Michelle laughed bitterly.
“Not until after.”
Evelyn stared at Christopher.
“Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“How long after?”
“The next day.”
“And what did you do?”
“I told her never to do anything like that again.”
Michelle crossed her arms.
“He did.”
The nanny finally spoke.
“Why was I kept downstairs with them longer?”
Both Christopher and Michelle looked at her.
Christopher said, “Guests wanted to see them.”
Michelle looked away.
The nanny noticed.
“Is that true?”
Christopher's expression tightened.
“Yes.”
Michelle said nothing.
The nanny turned toward her.
“Was that part of your idea too?”
Michelle looked embarrassed.
“Yes.”
The nanny felt anger rise slowly.
Not explosive anger.
The worse kind.
Clear.
“You used my work schedule to run a test.”
Michelle shook her head.
“That sounds worse than it was.”
“It sounds exactly like what you just said.”
“I didn't know Evelyn would say anything.”
“That isn't relevant.”
Michelle stared at her.
The nanny continued.
“You wanted the babies in a certain place. You knew I would be the person holding them. You used my job to put them there.”
“I wasn't trying to hurt you.”
“That doesn't make it okay.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
The nanny's words struck her too.
Intent.
Impact.
Power.
The same pattern again.
Michelle had enough social status to rearrange an employee's work environment without even thinking of the employee as part of the decision.
The nanny looked at Christopher.
“And after it went wrong, you stopped my pay.”
He looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
There it was.
No qualification.
No administrative review.
No heightened emotions.
Just yes.
The nanny's anger eased slightly because honesty finally entered the room.
Michelle sat down.
“I am sorry.”
The nanny looked at her.
“For which part?”
Michelle paused.
Good question.
“For using the situation.”
“Which situation?”
“The resemblance.”
“Not my work?”
Michelle looked down.
“That too.”
The nanny nodded.
Again, she did not say it was fine.
Mercer spoke.
“We should be careful about characterizing the relocation as—”
Evelyn turned toward him.
“Daniel, if you say ‘neutral administrative decision,’ I may throw you out of my house.”
For once, Mercer smiled.
“Noted.”
The tension broke for half a second.
Then Evelyn looked at Michelle.
“Who did you want to notice?”
Michelle's expression changed.
“No.”
“You moved the babies under the portrait to see whether someone would notice.”
“I wanted to know whether anyone would.”
“Anyone?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.”
Michelle stared at her.
“If you wanted random confirmation, you could have shown a photograph to Christopher's barber.”
Christopher almost laughed despite himself.
Evelyn continued.
“You picked a family gathering.”
Michelle said nothing.
“You expected somebody specific.”
“No.”
“Who?”
“I said no.”
Christopher interrupted.
“Mother, stop.”
Evelyn turned.
“You're protecting her again.”
“I'm protecting the children.”
“From what?”
“From becoming a debate.”
“They already became one because Michelle positioned them beneath a portrait.”
Michelle stood.
“I know I made a mistake.”
“A mistake is ordering the wrong flowers.”
Evelyn's voice became colder.
“You used two infants to answer a question you were afraid to ask directly.”
Michelle's eyes filled with anger.
“And what would you have done?”
Evelyn stopped.
Michelle stepped closer.
“If you saw what I saw months ago, what would you have done?”
“I would have asked Christopher.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“He shut me down.”
Evelyn looked at her son.
Michelle continued.
“I asked again.”
Christopher said, “You asked constantly.”
“Because your answers changed.”
His face tightened.
Evelyn noticed.
“What answers?”
Michelle looked at him.
“First it was ‘you're imagining it.’”
Christopher said nothing.
“Then it was ‘babies look like everyone.’”
Still nothing.
“Then it was ‘don't say that name.’”
Evelyn's stomach tightened.
Michelle continued.
“Then it became ‘never bring this up in front of my mother.’”
The room went still.
Evelyn stared at her son.
“Why me?”
Christopher looked exhausted.
“Because I knew you would react.”
“To a resemblance?”
“To the name.”
Evelyn whispered, “What name?”
No answer.
Michelle looked almost sorry.
Evelyn's voice hardened.
“Christopher.”
He stood.
“I am not saying it.”
“You think I don't know?”
“That is exactly what I think.”
Evelyn looked toward the album on the side table.
Christopher followed her eyes.
His face changed.
“You found another picture.”
Michelle went pale.
The nanny watched all three of them.
She knew she should leave.
This had moved beyond employment.
Beyond the ballroom.
But Evelyn looked at her.
“You may go.”
The nanny nodded.
At the door, she stopped.
“Mrs. Lawson?”
“Yes?”
“Whatever that resemblance means, don't forget the babies are people first.”
Evelyn nodded.
“I won't.”
The nanny left.
Behind her, Evelyn opened the album.
She placed the photograph of Christopher and the second boy on the table.
Michelle sat down hard.
Christopher looked away.
Evelyn pointed to the second face.
“Is this who you meant?”
Michelle did not answer.
Christopher said, “Mother.”
Evelyn ignored him.
“Is it?”
Michelle's eyes filled with tears.
Not dramatic tears.
One blink.
Then another.
Finally she whispered, “I don't know.”
Evelyn stared at her.
“You arranged all of this and you don't know?”
Michelle shook her head.
“I know who the baby reminded me of.”
“Then say it.”
“I can't tell you what it means.”
“I didn't ask what it means.”
Michelle looked at Christopher.
Then back at Evelyn.
“Yes.”
Evelyn's breath caught.
The name beneath the photograph sat between them.
Still unspoken.
Christopher closed the album.
“We are done.”
Evelyn put her hand over it.
“No.”
Christopher stared at her.
She spoke quietly.
“You were afraid I would recognize a child I knew decades ago.”
Christopher's face hardened.
“No. I was afraid you'd do exactly what you're doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“Turning resemblance into history.”
Evelyn looked at the closed album.
Perhaps he was right.
Perhaps she was moving too quickly.
She removed her hand.
Then Michelle said something that stopped all of them.
“Evelyn.”
Evelyn looked up.
Michelle's voice shook.
“The person I called after the ballroom…”
Christopher said, “Don't.”
May you like
Michelle ignored him.
“…was his mother.”
