Chapter 5
At nine that night, William called again. This time, the background was quiet.
"Dad barely ate anything all day," William said.
"Just tell the kitchen to make some oatmeal," I said.
"They did. He won't eat it."
"Then have them make his favorite pasta."
"Evelyn, you know this isn't about the food."
I kept clearing my desk. "He'll be fine in a few days."
"He's always treated you like his own daughter."
"And I've always treated him like family."
"Then you shouldn't have disappeared on him like this."
I stopped what I was doing. "William, I didn't disappear. "You can still call me. I answer messages. I left you every emergency contact you might need.
"I'm no longer living at the Hill Residence, and I'm no longer responsible for managing his daily life."
"What's the difference?" William asked.
"The difference is that whether your father eats dinner shouldn't be my problem to solve anymore."
A faint sound came through the phone, like a cup being set down hard on a table.
"Grace already contacted a new home health aide."
I paused. "Good."
"She's taking Dad to his follow-up appointment tomorrow."
"Then you need me less than ever," I said.
I hadn't given him the reaction he wanted.
After a moment, his voice cooled. "Ever since Grace found out about the divorce, she's felt guilty about what happened. She asked me today whether we should put things on hold for a while."
"She's very kind," I said.
I wasn't being sarcastic.
William fell silent for a beat. "Evelyn, you don't need to be passive-aggressive."
"I'm not."
"If you have a problem with her, say it."
"I do have a problem with her." I closed my laptop. "That's why I've decided I don't want to stay married to you."
Silence followed.
"Anything else?" I asked.
He didn't answer, so I hung up.
*****
The next day, Grace accompanied Edward to his follow-up appointment.
Around noon, she sent me a friend request with a single message attached.
[Evelyn, I'd like to talk to you about Edward.]
I didn't accept it.
Half an hour later, William messaged me.
[Grace only wanted to confirm Dad's dietary restrictions. You don't need to make things difficult for her.]
I forwarded him the digital copy of the Household Care Binder again.
[Page twelve.]
This time, he didn't reply.
Over the next few days, I started following stories, writing interview outlines, and reacquainting myself with the editing system and recording equipment.
The calls from the Hill Residence gradually dropped from several a day to one.
None of the problems were serious enough to cause a disaster, but each one was tedious enough to wear someone down.
Edward refused to let the new home health aide into his bedroom. He complained that the meals Grace arranged were bland.
When relatives dropped by without warning, the housekeeper didn't know which drink to serve.
When the family physician made a house call, William was still at the office in a meeting.
Every time something came up, William contacted me first, and I only told him where he could find the answer.
On the fourth evening, Edward called me.
"Evelyn." He sounded tired. "Are you busy with work?"
"Not too bad," I said.
"William told me you used to do interviews."
"Yes."
"That's good."
He went quiet for a long time before asking, "When are you coming back for dinner?"
I held the phone without answering.
"I'll have the kitchen make your favorite dishes," Edward said.
"Edward, I won't be coming back for a while."
"Is it because of William?"
"No."
"Then is it because of me?"
I looked out the window.
The newsroom was in a low-rise building overlooking a congested street, where red taillights stretched into a glowing line.
"Neither. I'm not going to live there anymore."
Edward's breathing noticeably quickened. "Evelyn, every married couple has problems. William is busy with work and doesn't always have time for the family, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you."
"Dad," I interrupted. "He wants a divorce."
The line went completely silent.
Apparently, William hadn't told him.
After a long time, Edward finally spoke. "Is it that secretary?"
"Yes."
"I'll talk to him."
"There's no need."
"That bastard," Edward muttered. His breathing suddenly became uneven.
"Don't get worked up. Sit down," I told him.
The moment the words left my mouth, I froze.
There it was again. The slightest change in his breathing, and I instinctively started wondering whether his chest felt tight, whether his blood pressure needed checking, and where the backup medication was.
Eight years had carved those instincts into my body.
Edward noticed too. His voice softened. "Evelyn, you still worry about me."
"Yes." I didn't deny it. "But caring about you doesn't mean I have to remain William's wife."
"You can still come see me after you two divorce."
"I will."
"What about my medication?"
"William will handle it."
"He doesn't understand any of this."
"He can learn."
"He's busy with work."