Chapter 4
I went home and opened Rachel’s sewing room.
Vanessa had changed the lock on the door. I stood in the hallway with Emma’s words still ringing in my ears, then called Vanessa.
“Why is Rachel’s room locked?”
“Celia needed somewhere to store things.”
“What things?”
“A few boxes. I didn’t want Emma moving them.”
“Emma’s portfolio is in there.”
“She hasn’t used it in months.”
“Because you told her she wasn’t allowed.”
Vanessa was silent.
“I’m opening the room,” I said. “You can come here while I do it.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I waited. I wanted Emma to know I had given Vanessa a chance to be present. When she arrived, I asked her to unlock the door.
She took a key from her purse.
Inside, the sewing machine stood under a sheet. Cardboard boxes lined one wall. Emma’s drawing table was folded against the other. A stack of her portfolio boards leaned behind it.
I checked the boards. Several corners were bent, but they were there.
Vanessa watched me.
“Celia’s things only needed to stay until she found a place,” she said.
“Celia doesn’t live here.”
“I know.”
“Neither you nor I asked Emma before taking her workspace.”
“You’re making this into another offense.”
“It mattered to her.”
“It was sitting unused.”
“You told her she couldn’t use it.”
I carried Emma’s boards downstairs and called her. She answered at once.
“Are they okay?”
“Most of them. A few need new corners. The drawings are safe.”
She went quiet.
“Can I come get them?”
“Of course. Vanessa is here. If you’d rather wait, I can bring them to Maya’s.”
“Please bring them.”
I packed the boards carefully. Beneath the last one was a large envelope addressed to Emma. It had been opened.
I recognized the logo of the architecture program in Richmond where she had applied for a training position in May.
I called her again.
“Did you see the letter from Richmond Design Fellows?”
“What letter?”
I stared at the torn edge of the envelope.
“It’s dated June.”
“I never heard back from them.”
Vanessa stepped into the doorway. She saw the envelope in my hand and stopped.
“Did you open this?” I asked.
“I thought it was household mail.”
“It has Emma’s name on it.”
“I opened it by mistake.”
“Why didn’t you give it to her?”
“I put it in the room and forgot.”
I took out the letter. The program had offered Emma an interview. They had asked her to confirm within two weeks.
The deadline had passed months ago.
I felt sick.
Emma had spent the summer taking extra shifts instead of preparing for an interview she never knew she had.
I told her what the letter said. She did not answer for several seconds.
“I checked my email every day,” she whispered. “I thought they didn’t want me.”
“Did they say they’d also email?”
“No. They said decisions might come by post because the application included physical drawings.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I need to go,” she said, and ended the call.
Vanessa stood behind me.
“I didn’t know it was important.”
“You saw her name. You opened it. Then you locked it in a room she couldn’t enter.”
“I told you I forgot.”
“Emma didn’t get to forget. She spent months thinking she had failed.”
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
I delivered the portfolio boards to Maya’s apartment. Emma did not invite me inside. She met me at the door and took the envelope first.
“I can call the program,” I said.
“I’ll call them.”
“You’re right. Tell me if you want me beside you.”
She leaned the boards against the wall.
“I need a few days without either of you asking me to make everyone feel better.”
I nodded.
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you do yet.”
She closed the door gently.
I stood in the hallway for a moment, then went home.
That night, I wrote down everything I knew in order. The rent. Celia. The locked room. The letter. I did it because the facts were beginning to blur beneath my anger.
Vanessa and I sat at opposite ends of the kitchen table.
“I’m staying with Celia,” she said.
“That makes sense.”
“Do you want me to come back?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked down at her hands.
“I helped raise Emma for eight years.”
“And now she needs distance from you. We have to respect that.”
Vanessa nodded, but her face tightened.
The next morning, Emma sent me a short message.
Richmond agreed to review my portfolio. I have an interview next week. I made the call myself.
I smiled for the first time in days.
Then another message arrived.
May you like
I’m glad I found out. I’m still angry you didn’t notice how much of my life disappeared.
I read it twice and wrote back, You have every reason to be.
