Chapter 5 — Sunday Dinner In Front Of Eleven People

DianeYou look better. Doesn't she look better, Ryan?

RyanShe does.

DianeSleep. That's all it ever is. Everybody makes it more complicated than it is.

Emily set the iPad in the diaper bag against the leg of the sideboard and helped carry the roast through.

RuthIs he sleeping through yet, sweetheart?

EmilyNot quite.

RuthMine never did. Not one of the three.

MarkAre we doing anything for Labor Day or is that dead?

KatieIt's dead.

Diane set down her wine glass and folded her hands.

DianeEmily's been having such a hard time with the feeding. We've all been rallying round.

RuthOh, it's so common. There's no shame in it at all.

DianeThat's what I keep telling her. There's no medal at the end.

Emily put down her fork.

EmilyCan I show everyone something?

RyanEm.

EmilyIt's short.

Emily took out the iPad, stood it upright between the gravy boat and the candlesticks, and turned the screen down the length of the table.

EmilyTuesday the fourth. Four-twelve in the afternoon.

MarkWhat are we looking at, home movies?

KatieShh.

On the screen, Diane crossed the nursery, stopped, and looked back at the doorway.

Nobody at the table said anything for nineteen seconds.

RuthDiane. Diane, what is she pouring?

DianeYou can't even see what's in it. That could be water. That could be anything.

EmilyThere are nineteen of them. I numbered them.

Emily tapped the screen and turned the volume all the way up.

DianeThere we are. There's my boy. She can't do it, can she. She just can't do it.

Pastor Dan put his napkin on the table.

BevOh, Diane.

DianeShe has taken these completely out of context, and if any of you knew what this house has been like since that baby came —

EmilyThere's one more. Wednesday. Fifty-two minutes before she emptied my freezer.

DianeNo — she's putting him in daycare in September. Going back to that job of hers.

DianeMm. We'll see how long that lasts.

RuthWho were you talking to?

DianeRuth —

RuthDiane. Who were you talking to?

Ryan stood up so fast his chair went over backward.

RyanMom.

DianeRyan, sit down —

RyanMOM.

DianeDon't you raise your voice at me in my own house.

RyanNinety-one bags. And every time she told me, I said she was tired.

DianeI did what any mother would —

RyanStop talking. Just — stop talking.