Chapter 16 - Primrose’s birthday memory
Primrose started refusing chocolate cake.
Not all cake.
Chocolate.
Why?
“Because Aunt Genevieve wore it.”
Children.
Her therapist did not diagnose trauma from cake.
She did have anxiety around family events.
She asked:
“Is Aunt Genevieve coming?”
Before every dinner.
I answered honestly.
Sometimes no.
Sometimes maybe later.
Then one afternoon she asked:
“Did I make Aunt Genevieve bad because Grandpa liked me?”
“No.”
“Why does she hate me?”
“She doesn’t know how to separate wanting power from loving people.”
Too adult.
I tried again.
“She was unfair to you because she wanted something.”
“What?”
“Control.”
“Of what?”
“Family things.”
“Can she have them?”
“Some. Not yours.”
Then:
“Is Felix mad?”
“No.”
“Can he sleep over?”
Genevieve surprisingly agreed.
Felix came.
Security? Normal household security.
He and Primrose built a blanket fort in a room worth more than most people’s homes.
They ate pizza.
No inheritance.
No male-line stewardship.
At midnight, I found them asleep under the fort.
Felix’s suit? He wore pajamas.
For a moment I saw what Dominic’s trust should have been for.
Not turning them into future combatants.
Giving them enough security that neither had to destroy the other to matter.
Then I remembered our family.
Optimism passed.
May you like
Still.
I left them sleeping.
