Cece is on the floor, playing with one of the educational games Evelyn bought her. When my daughter sees us come in, she abandons her game and hurls herself at me until her little body makes contact with my left leg. It almost knocks me off my feet. Despite the fact that I’m not allowed to be alone with her, Cece has been achingly clingy with me since I’ve been home.
“Mama, up!” She raises her arms to me until I gather her up. She’s wearing a frilly white dress that is a bit preposterous for such a little girl playing in the living room—Evelyn must have dressed her in it. “Mama home.”
Evelyn is not as quick as Cece to rise to her feet. She slowly stands up from the couch, brushing off her pristine white slacks. I never noticed before how frequently Evelyn dresses in white, which has always been Andy’s favorite color on me. It suits her though. Her hair looks like it might have once been blond, but now she’s just at that precipice between blond and white, her hair surprisingly thick and healthy for a woman her age. Evelyn is, in general, incredibly well preserved and flawless. I have never seen her with so much as a loose thread on her sweater.
“Thanks for watching Cece, Mother,” Andy says.
“Of course,” Evelyn says. “She was well behaved today. But…” Her eyes drift up toward the ceiling. “I noticed you left the lights on in the bedroom upstairs. Such a terrible waste of electricity.”
She gives him a disapproving look and Andy’s entire face turns bright red. I’ve noticed how desperate he is for her approval.
“It was my fault,” I speak up. I’m not sure it was, but what the hell—I might as well take the blame since Evelyn already dislikes me. “I left the light on.”
Evelyn tuts at me. “Nina, producing electricity takes a lot of our planet’s resources. You should remember to shut off the lights when you leave any room.”
“I absolutely will,” I promise.
Evelyn gives me a look like she’s not quite sure I mean it, but what is she going to do? She’s already failed to stop her son from marrying me. Of course, maybe she was right about me after the terrible thing I did.
“We stopped off to get food, Mother,” Andy says. “We got extra. Do you want to join us?”
I’m relieved when Evelyn shakes her head. She’s not a pleasant dinner guest. Having her stay for the meal guarantees a string of criticisms about our dining area, the cleanliness of our dishes and utensils, and the food itself.
“No, l should be heading out,” she says. “Your father is expecting me.”
She hesitates in front of Andy. For a moment, I almost think she’s going to kiss him on the cheek, which is something I’ve never seen her do before. But instead, she reaches out and adjusts his collar, smoothing out his shirt. She cocks her head, examining him, then nods an approval. “All right, I’m off.”
After Evelyn is gone, we enjoy a nice dinner together, just the three of us. Cecelia sits in her highchair and eats noodles with her fingers. Halfway through the meal, one of the noodles somehow makes it onto her forehead and adheres there for the rest of the dinner. But even as I try to enjoy the meal, something isn’t sitting right in the pit of my stomach. I keep thinking about what Dr. Hewitt said. He thinks I should go up to the attic. So does Andy.
Maybe they’re both right.
So after I put Cecelia down for the night, when Andy brings it up, I say yes.
FORTY-FIVE
Step Five: Find Out You’re Not Crazy After All
“We’ll take it slow,” Andy promises me as we stand together at the door to the attic staircase. “But this will be good for you. To see yourself that there’s nothing there to be scared of. That this was all completely in your head.”
“Right,” I manage. I know he’s right. But it felt so real.
Andy takes my hand in his. I don’t cringe anymore when he touches me. We started making love again. I trust him again. This will be the final step to getting back to where we were before I did this terrible thing. Before my brain broke.
“Ready?” he says.
I nod.
We hold hands as we ascend the creaky staircase together. We need to put in a lightbulb here somewhere. The rest of the house is so nice—maybe if this entire area were less frightening, I would feel better. Not that it’s any excuse for what I did.
Far too soon, we reach the room in the attic. The storage closet that I somehow turned into a dungeon in my head. Andy raises his eyebrows at me. “Are you okay?”
“I… I think so.”