They sometimes ate each other! They had sharp teeth and claws! More importantly, if they hadn’t all died, they would probably be eating people, if people were even around. She tried to keep her voice cheerful, upbeat.
“They had to make room for us, honey, for everything new. And now we have coal! And oil, honey! It makes the car go!”
Even after the train had passed, and their own car was once again moving forward on the energy of dead dinosaurs, Veronica was in-consolable.
Natalie sat on the guest bed, looking up at the baby blue walls. It was possible, of course, that four-year-olds in general were sensitive, not Veronica in particular. She might be a very different adult. Her dorm room was distressingly bare. Only a science poster hung on one of the walls. There was a calendar pinned to the bulletin board, next to a picture of the tall boyfriend standing on his head. The shelves held only books and notebooks and folders. Natalie shook her head. She would not snoop. She was a guest in this room. She was a guest before she was a mother.
Even when Veronica was still living at home, Natalie had only allowed herself the most benign sort of detective work: she would borrow her daughter’s novels, partly because she wanted to read them, but also so she could see what lines Veronica had underlined. When Natalie sat down to read a book, she just read it. She didn’t use a pen. But Veronica’s copy of Sense and Sensibility had had something underlined on almost every page. Natalie paid close attention, searching for significance: Elinor was to be the comforter of others in her own distress, no less than in theirs. It was distressing. Did Veronica think of herself like this? Did she think she had to comfort everyone? Did she think she had to comfort…her mother? Natalie worried. Those years after her own mother had died, and Dan’s mother was still dying, she had maybe leaned on her daughter too much. And what was Veronica’s own distress? Did she have some secret distress her mother didn’t even know about? Other underlined passages perplexed her: and yet there is something so amiable in the prejudices of a young mind, that one is sorry to see them give way to the reception of more general opinions. What did that mean? It sounded cynical. What amiable prejudices of her daughter’s had already given way?
When Natalie tried to ever-so-casually ask about these lines, Veronica had only shrugged and said she thought they were interesting. Still, alone in the dorm room, Natalie eyed the shelves and stood up from the bed. There were mostly science texts now, but there were a few novels.
When the door opened fast, she jumped.
Veronica stood in the doorway. Her face was pale, her eyes mournful.
“Sorry,” she said. “I should have knocked.” Her eyes were level with her mother’s, and her hair was long enough, even curly again, damp with rain, to reach the shoulders of her green sweater; still, Natalie could clearly see the child in her, especially now with the shiny eyes. Her face hadn’t changed that much.
“Don’t be silly. It’s your room. Honey? You’ve been outside? Without a coat?”
“I was in a car,” she said. “I just ran out to a car to talk with…someone.”
The boyfriend, Natalie assumed. Tom. Tim. She couldn’t remember. There was no excuse. If she said the name wrong now, she was finished. The next time Veronica said his name, Natalie would write it down, keep it in her purse, commit it to memory forever. As soon as her own life calmed down a little, she would pay attention to the details of her daughter’s.
“Honey? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Veronica turned away and let her dark hair fall forward. “But I need a little time by myself.” She leaned against her dresser, her back still turned. “In here,” she added gently.
“Oh yes. Yes. Of course.” Natalie moved in a quick circle, searching for her coat. She had never before been the kind of mother who accepted the first “I’m fine” from one of her daughters. She had been the kind who softly prodded for more information. In her experience, if you poked enough, they would tell, because really, they wanted to tell. But now, although Veronica clearly wasn’t fine, Natalie had no choice but to retreat at the first request. That was the problem, or the main problem, with being both a mother and a charity case. It