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Show Moon -140 these were as distant as faded photographs against my fear of James and the explosions of pain for what you faced. "You should stay with your mother," Esther said. "She needs you." "I can't." She smiled with her cat's eyes and said, "You're like me. You're selfish." What if Td told her about James and me? Would she have believed me? There is something so fundamental about the need to be believed that a person can't test her own credibility and have it fail too many times. Instead I shifted to the subject of more immediate concern: "I think we should tell her about the M.S., since James won't." Esther stopped walking and turned me to her so we faced squarely. Her eyes narrowed; I suddenly felt very young. "Your father is a good man," she said. She shook her finger at my face. "Don't you question his judgement. Not ever." Confusion swirled into me. How could the story of James be evident to only me? Was I terribly wrong about him-or worse, was I far more alone than Td imagined-and you, Mother, unspeakably alone, trapped in a web of lies? Without a word, I ran away from Esther up the path to the cottage like the time after Germany, like time bent back on itself. The boys and James were out somewhere. You were in the rocking chair beside the cold fireplace. You turned your lovely heart-shaped face up to me and said, "Hello, dear. Sit down. Let's talk a while." I sat beside you, but we seemed to have nothing to talk about. How could I be with you and not say the most important thing? How could I be another minute in this place where James wanted me instead of you? I said, "I'll |