Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO WOULDN'T LET US WIN
Eleanor never tried to make us like her.
That was probably why we eventually did.
Roman tested her on day three.
He stole every key from her housekeeping ring.
Then watched from upstairs as she searched the pantry, laundry room, and mudroom.
Finally Eleanor walked into the breakfast room.
Roman sat eating cereal.
She placed one replacement key on the table.
“You have until six.”
He smiled.
“For what?”
“To return them.”
“And if I don't?”
“I change every staff lock and give your father the bill.”
Roman's smile disappeared.
That evening, the keys appeared on the kitchen counter.
Eleanor said nothing.
Theo's strategy was quieter.
He refused to speak to her.
Weeks.
She never forced him.
She simply put tea beside his homework.
Asked whether he wanted the lamp on.
Remembered he hated tomatoes.
One night he walked into the kitchen and said:
“There's too much cinnamon.”
Eleanor nearly smiled.
Instead:
“Thank you for finally filing a complaint.”
After that, Theo began talking.
Jamie was harder.
At eight, he woke screaming three or four nights a week.
Previous staff summoned security.
Eleanor sat outside his bedroom door.
Not inside unless invited.
The first night, he screamed:
“Go away!”
She answered:
“Okay.”
But she stayed in the hallway.
The second night:
“Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
The third:
“Can the door stay open?”
“Yes.”
She never called herself family.
Never said Caroline would want this.
Never said our mother was watching from somewhere.
I respected her for that before I knew I respected her.
Then there was me.
I pushed hardest.
One afternoon I came home after drinking with older boys.
Eleanor smelled it.
“You're seventeen.”
“Congratulations on counting.”
“Your father know?”
“He doesn't care.”
Her expression changed.
Not because she disagreed.
Because she believed me.
That made me angrier.
“You're not my mother.”
“I know.”
“So stop acting like her.”
“I have never acted like your mother.”
“Then stop telling me what to do.”
She folded a kitchen towel.
“Fine.”
I blinked.
“Fine?”
“You want to be treated like someone capable of making his own decisions?”
“Yes.”
“Then clean the vomit out of the back seat yourself.”
I stared.
“Our driver—”
“Didn't drink.”
I hated her.
I cleaned the car.
She brought me water.
No lecture.
That was Eleanor.
Consequences without humiliation.
Boundaries without abandonment.
Within two months, strange things began happening.
Roman stopped eating upstairs and began appearing at breakfast.
Theo started doing homework at the kitchen table.
Jamie waited at the front window when Eleanor went grocery shopping.
I pretended not to notice any of it.
Then one evening she was twenty minutes late.
I found myself checking the driveway.
Roman saw.
He smiled.
“Waiting for Eleanor?”
“No.”
“Sure.”
“Shut up.”
He laughed.
Then the front door opened.
Jamie ran.
Theo stood.
Roman looked relieved.
And I remained where I was because somebody in this family needed dignity.
Eleanor entered carrying groceries.
She looked at all four of us.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” I said.
Roman grinned.
“They thought you weren't coming back.”
I nearly killed him.
Eleanor looked at me.
I expected amusement.
Instead she said quietly:
“I'll tell you if I'm leaving.”
Something about that sentence entered a place none of us admitted existed.
May you like
Because our mother had left the house one night three years earlier.
And never came home.
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