Chapter 12: Richard’s Last Approach
Richard tried one more time, years later, at a funeral for a mutual acquaintance.
In the receiving line he clasped my hand longer than necessary and said that time healed, that Ethan had been young, that men made mistakes in front of crowds. I let him finish. Then I said, “Time didn’t heal the note. The note healed itself when it was paid. Crowds are optional. Accuracy isn’t.”
May you like
He released my hand. Elaine’s mouth tightened in the background. We moved along the line. In the car Margaret said she was proud of the shortness of my sentence. I said shortness was a mercy to both of us. We did not attend the after-gathering. We owed the dead our presence at the service; we did not owe the living a second chance to mismanage credit.
Ethan called that evening, awkward, having heard from Claire that Richard had “tried.” I told him the exchange was complete. He said he was glad. Glad was small and sufficient.
