The Accident

Kelly made the point, once she was in the car with Fiona and Marcus, that she hadn’t had any breakfast, and since it was almost lunchtime, maybe they should get something lunchlike to eat. It was Fiona’s plan to take Kelly, first, to the Stamford Town Center and buy her a new winter coat because she’d outgrown the one she’d worn last year and Fiona was not confident Glen would notice. Then, after that, they’d backtrack to Darien, where it was Fiona’s plan to take a tour of two of the local private schools, give Kelly an idea where she could go once Fiona had managed to sell Glen on the idea.

“We’ll eat at the Stamford Town Center,” Fiona decided. Kelly said they had a pretty good food court, so she could wait. Fiona would have preferred a sit-down restaurant where someone took your order and brought it to you, but she was inclined to indulge the child, because there were some things she wanted to ask her about what had happened with her friend’s mother, and she wanted the girl to be forthcoming.

Once the three of them sat down, Marcus and Fiona each with a latte from Starbucks and Kelly with a slice of pepperoni pizza, Fiona asked about the sleepover.

“I thought it was going to be fun but it was really not so good.”

“Why’s that?”

“I came home early. I called Dad to pick me up.”

“Weren’t you having a good time?”

“I was sort of at first, but then it wasn’t fun anymore.”

Fiona leaned in a little closer. “And why was that?”

“Well,” Kelly said, “Emily’s mom got really mad at me.”

“She did?” Fiona asked. “Why did she get mad at you?”

Kelly said, “I’m really not supposed to talk about this.”

“I don’t see why you can’t talk about it with me. I’m your grandmother. You can tell your grandmother anything.”

“I know, but…” Kelly studied her slice, picked off a pepperoni slice and popped it into her mouth.

“But what?” Fiona said.

“I kinda promised not to tell anybody, except I told my dad because he’s my dad.”

“Who did you promise?”

“Emily’s mom.”

Fiona nodded. “Well, she’s not with us anymore,” she said matter-of-factly, “so you can’t really break a promise to her now if you talk about it.”

“It’s okay to break promises to dead people?” Kelly asked.

“Absolutely.”

Marcus was starting to shake his head. “Fiona, what are you doing?”

“Excuse me?” she snapped.

“Look at her. You’re upsetting her. She’s starting to cry.”

It was true. Her eyes had filled with tears. One threatened to spill over and trickle down her cheek.

“I know this may be troubling, dear,” Fiona told Kelly, “but sometimes, talking about a traumatic event can be therapeutic.”

“Huh?” said Kelly.

“If you talk about what makes you feel bad, it can end up making you feel better.”

“Oh. I don’t think so.”

“What sort of promise did Emily’s mom ask you to keep?”

“She didn’t want me to tell anyone about the phone call.”

“Phone call,” Fiona said. “A phone call. What phone call was that?”

“The one I heard her make.”

Marcus was shaking his head disapprovingly, but Fiona ignored him. “You were listening in on someone else’s phone call?”

“Not on purpose,” Kelly said hastily. “I wouldn’t do that. That would be eavestroughing.”

“ Eavesdropping, Kelly,” Fiona said, not even cracking a smile. “So if it wasn’t on purpose, how did you happen to be hearing this conversation?”

“I was just hiding,” Kelly said. “From Emily. I didn’t really hear that much of it anyway because she was whispering a lot.” The tear finally spilled down her cheek. “Do I have to talk about this?”

“Kelly, it may not be pleasant to go over this, but I think-”

“Can I talk to you a minute?” Marcus said to his wife.

“What?”

“Sweetheart,” Marcus said, taking out his wallet and handing a ten to Kelly, “take this and go get yourself something for dessert.”

“But I haven’t even finished my pizza yet.”

“If you get it now, then when you’ve finished your pizza, you can start on it immediately.”

She took the ten from him. “Okay.” They watched her scamper over to the ice-cream stand.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marcus asked his wife.

“Absolutely nothing.”

“That girl’s mother is dead. Now her best friend’s mother is dead. We’re supposed to be taking her out for a nice day and you’re conducting a fucking interrogation of her.”

“Don’t use that tone with me.”

“Fiona, sometimes… sometimes you just don’t know the effect you have on people. You can’t… Is empathy beyond you?”

“How dare you,” she seethed. “I’m only asking her these questions because I care about her welfare.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s something else going on with you. Is it because there’s something about this Ann Slocum you’ve never liked?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw the way you acted with her at that purse party or whatever it was called. You had nothing but contempt for her. You were looking down your nose at her all night.”

She stared at him. “That’s nonsense. I don’t know where you’re getting this.”