Chapter 35 - The Summer House
Vincent asked to take Eli away for one week when he was seven.
Not Chicago.
Maine.
A family property on the coast that had belonged to Vincent's father.
Anna's first answer was no.
She did not say it immediately.
Growth.
She said, "I need details."
Vincent sent them.
Travel.
House staff.
Nearest hospital.
Activities.
Who would be present.
Cecilia for two days.
No business guests.
No press.
Security limited to travel days.
Jonah reviewed none of it.
"Not my decision," he said when Anna asked what he thought.
"I want your opinion."
"That's different."
He read the itinerary.
"It looks reasonable. You're still allowed to hate the idea."
"I do."
"Then hate it and decide."
Anna hated him sometimes.
She spoke with Dr. Wallace.
At seven, Eli was old enough for a week away if the relationship with Vincent was stable.
It was.
The parenting agreement allowed vacations.
Anna had no objective reason to refuse.
She said yes.
Eli celebrated.
"Ocean!"
"You have seen an ocean."
"Not Daddy ocean."
There was no such thing.
Apparently there was now.
Vincent promised one call each evening unless Eli preferred otherwise.
Anna packed sunscreen.
Medication.
A ridiculous number of shirts.
Eli removed half.
History repeated.
At the airport, Anna hugged him.
"I'll see you Friday."
"Saturday."
She had the date wrong.
That embarrassed her.
"Saturday."
Eli grinned.
"Mommy needs calendar."
"Go."
The week was hard.
Anna worked too much.
Jonah called her out.
"You are using the studio to avoid being home."
"Correct."
"Want dinner?"
"Yes."
They spent Tuesday evening on his porch.
No child.
No parenting plan.
No Vincent.
Anna discovered a strange empty space where motherhood usually occupied her attention.
"What did you do before Eli?" Jonah asked.
"Waited for Vincent."
"That's bleak."
"True."
"What do you want to do now?"
Anna considered.
"I don't know."
The answer felt luxurious.
They drove to a late movie.
On Thursday, Eli called from Maine.
He had lost a tooth.
"Daddy pulled it!"
Vincent appeared behind him.
"It was hanging by nothing."
"You pulled his tooth?"
"He asked."
Anna laughed.
Eli held the tiny tooth in a plastic bag.
"Tooth fairy knows Maine?"
"She has maps."
Vincent said, "I was told to ask what the local rate is."
"One dollar."
Eli shouted.
"Five!"
"Inflation," Vincent said.
"One."
The call ended with Eli happy.
Saturday, Vincent returned him on time.
Eli smelled like sunscreen and sea air.
He talked for two hours.
Canoes.
Crabs.
Grandma Cecilia burning toast.
Daddy falling in cold water.
Anna listened.
No hidden disaster.
The week became another safe memory.
That night, after Eli slept, Anna realized she had gone seven days without controlling his environment.
She had survived.
More importantly, Eli had thrived.
She sent Vincent one message:
Thank you for giving him a good week.
Vincent replied:
Thank you for letting him come.
Anna considered correcting the wording.
Letting implied ownership.
Then she decided not every imperfect sentence required litigation.
She went to bed.
The week in Maine included one conflict Vincent did not tell Anna about until afterward. Cecilia wanted to invite two family friends to dinner. They had known Vincent since childhood and were curious about Eli. Vincent said no because Eli had agreed to a family vacation, not an introduction to adults who wanted to inspect the long-lost grandson.
Cecilia protested.
"They're practically family."
"To you."
"He should know the people who love us."
"He should not be displayed."
The phrase ended the discussion.
When Vincent told Anna later, she felt a flash of gratitude and something more complicated.
"You sounded like me."
"Terrifying."
"Correct."
Eli knew nothing of the disagreement. His memory of Maine remained crabs, cold water, a lost tooth, and a small lighthouse.
That was the success.
Adults handled the boundary before it reached the child.
The vacation also made future travel easier. The next summer, Anna took Eli and Jonah to Colorado. Vincent did not ask for a detailed itinerary beyond what the parenting plan required. He did not insist on security.
At the airport, Eli joked, "Mom hates planes."
Anna said, "I dislike them."
Jonah said, "She checks exits before sitting."
"I check exits everywhere."
Eli shrugged.
"Still goes."
Anna looked at him.
That was the lesson she hoped he carried: fear could come along without becoming the driver.
The Maine house became part of Eli's summers for several years. He learned to paddle a kayak, identify tide pools, and complain about mosquitoes. Vincent invited no business contacts during those weeks. Cecilia sometimes joined them. Anna occasionally came for one day at Eli's request, staying in a guest room and leaving before the visit became a confusing imitation of family vacation.
The first time Anna visited, she worried about how natural breakfast felt. Vincent made coffee. Eli argued with Cecilia about cereal. For a brief moment Anna could imagine the life they might have had.
Then she recognized the trap in the thought.
Possible did not mean preferable.
A peaceful breakfast could exist without invalidating divorce.
She left that afternoon and drove back with Jonah, who asked no questions until Anna said, "It was nice."
Jonah replied, "I'm glad."
"Does that bother you?"
"No. You share a child. I hope some things are nice."
Anna took his hand.
Maturity remained annoyingly undramatic.
After Maine, Eli began sending Anna postcards from trips instead of constant updates. The first simply read: I SAW A CRAB. DAD SAYS IT IS NOT A PET. Anna kept it. Distance was becoming something they could joke about rather than survive.
May you like
The second year in Maine, Eli brought Jonah a shell and Vincent brought Anna nothing, which everyone agreed was appropriate. The vacation had stopped being a test of custody and become what vacations were supposed to be: a collection of small memories nobody needed to litigate.
One small change followed those summers: Anna stopped asking Vincent for a full post-trip summary. She wanted information about health, medication, or problems that affected future plans, but she no longer needed an inventory of every meal and conversation. Eli came home and told the stories he chose. That trust felt earned rather than assumed.
