Inheriting Edith by Zoe Fishman

Author:Zoe Fishman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-09-02T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Morning,” mumbled Maggie. She was sitting at the dining room table in her sunglasses when Edith walked in, seemingly none the worse for wear despite matching Maggie glass for champagne glass the night before. She looked like she always looked, Maggie noticed, like she had been ironed from head to toe, hair included.

“Good morning,” Edith replied. Maggie felt awkward in the wake of Edith’s confession. Hers, too, for that matter. She was terrible at intimacy. After sex, she would spring out of bed, usually to scour the sink. Lingering didn’t agree with her. She was better when she had a purpose.

Lucy sat across from her, eating her waffle with gusto, syrup dribbling down her chin. Under normal circumstances, Maggie would refuse such a treat for breakfast, but this morning she had no fight in her. Her head felt like a bowling ball atop her neck. She took a big sip of her coffee, accidentally slurping it in the process.

Edith sat down next to Lucy with her own cup.

“What a party,” she said.

“I drank too much,” Maggie admitted.

“Me too. Took me far too long to get out of bed this morning.” Maggie regarded her carefully. She wasn’t behaving like someone who had revealed a huge secret less than twelve hours earlier. It occurred to Maggie suddenly that Edith could have forgotten that she revealed it at all.

“So today, when we meet, I want to tell you more about my son,” said Edith calmly.

“Right,” answered Maggie. She took off her sunglasses. “Of course.” So she did remember.

“I have some photos. I’ll bring them,” Edith added.

“Photos? On your phone?” asked Lucy, perking up. “I want to see.” She held out her sticky hands.

“No, no. Not for you, Lucy. And not on her phone.”

Lucy’s face crumpled. “But I want to see!” she demanded, and began to scream.

“That’s okay, Maggie. Lucy can see them now. As long as she cleans up first. I can’t have syrup on my pictures,” said Edith.

“Okay! I clean!” Lucy agreed, jumping down from her chair.

“Alright, let’s unstick you. Edith, you’re sure?” asked Maggie.

“Anything is better than that scream, isn’t it? Should we get started now?”

“Get started with what? Writing? With Lucy around?”

“I just—well, I’d like to if you’re able.”

“Uh, okay. Sure.” Maggie did not feel able at all, but she would. She had powered through worse. “Lucy, come here.” She removed her pajamas, which were covered in syrup, and carried her to the sink. “Hands first,” she commanded. “Now face.” Lucy waited patiently as Maggie washed her, excited to be included.

“Okay Luce, I’ll go get you some clothes. And I’ll get my notebook and tape recorder. Edi—” But Edith had gone downstairs already, to retrieve her memories.

“Never mind, Lucy, come with me.”

Downstairs, she clothed her daughter and grabbed her notebook and tape recorder, pausing briefly in front of the mirror to frown at the bags under her eyes. When she turned around, Edith was standing in front of her, a manila envelope tight in her grasp.

“Geez Edith, when you mean business, you mean business,” said Maggie.

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