Chapter 7 - Eleanor’s Apology
Eleanor asked to see me on a Thursday afternoon.
I almost refused.
Then I remembered that Noah would continue to see his grandmother, and
that the adults in his life needed to learn how to speak without making
him carry their conflict.
I agreed to meet her in the conservatory, with the household manager
present.
Eleanor sat beside a table of white orchids.
“I owe you an apology,” she said.
I waited.
“I believed you were encouraging Noah’s attachment because you wanted a
place in this family.”
“I never wanted that.”
“I know that now.”
“Do you?”
She looked at me.
“I saw him run to you in front of everyone. I felt humiliated. I thought
of what people would say. I did not think about how frightened he must
have been.”
I folded my hands.
“He thought I was leaving because he wasn’t good enough.”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“I didn’t tell him that.”
“You made him feel that his feelings were inconvenient. Children don’t
need the exact words to understand that.”
She nodded.
“I was afraid Alexander would never remarry. I was afraid Noah would
grow up without a proper family structure.”
“He has a family. It may not look the way you planned, but he has one.”
Eleanor looked toward the glass roof.
“When Clara died, I thought I had to keep everything from falling apart.
I made decisions because Alexander wouldn’t make them. Then I became
accustomed to being obeyed.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“No.”
She looked at me again.
“I won’t ask you to forgive me today.”
“Good.”
A faint, surprised smile touched her mouth.
“You are very direct.”
“I work with a five-year-old. It saves time.”
For the first time, Eleanor laughed.
It was brief, and it did not erase anything.
But it was real.
She asked whether Noah could visit her for tea that weekend. I told her
she should ask Alexander and let Noah decide.
She accepted that.
Before I left, she said, “I hope you won’t resign.”
I touched the folded letter in my pocket.
“I haven’t decided.”
“You care for him.”
“I do. But caring about Noah doesn’t mean I should have no life outside
this house.”
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
“I understand.”
I wasn’t sure she did.
But it was a beginning.
That evening, Noah asked if Grandma was angry with me.
I told him she had apologized.
“Does that mean she’s nice now?”
“It means she is trying to do better. People have to show that with
their actions.”
He thought about it.
“Like Daddy?”
“Exactly like Daddy.”
Alexander, who had been standing in the doorway, heard us.
“I suppose I deserve that,” he said.
Noah held out a puzzle piece.
“Then help me.”
Alexander sat on the rug.
May you like
And for the next half hour, the three of us worked on a lighthouse, one
piece at a time.
