“Miriam loves golf!” Harper had meant to listen from a safe emotional distance. By the time she’d interjected she’d been completely pulled in.
She didn’t blame Bruce. She understood. And, unlike Mason, saw a pattern of loving, not abuse.
“It sounds more to me like maybe Miriam’s getting older, has less energy and wanted to conserve it, just like she said,” she added. “We both know how much Bruce loves her. I can see him being overprotective—”
“The final blow between Gram and Grace came last year, when Gram suddenly announced that she couldn’t drive across town to Grace’s house anymore. She said Bruce didn’t think her reflexes were quick enough and she could get in an accident.”
That was a little much. Unless… “Did he have reason to think so? Had she had any accidents? Any fender benders or near misses?”
“Apparently not. Grace had ridden with her the week before, in downtown rush-hour traffic, and said Gram had maneuvered like a pro. Like she always did.”
“She’s a strong-minded woman. There must be some reason she didn’t stand up to him.”
“Grace is certain that he beat her down so much, she’d lost all confidence in herself. And when she tried to tell Gram, she said Gram hung up on her. They talked again a couple of times, but Gram said she wasn’t going to listen to Grace maligning Bruce anymore and Grace couldn’t watch what was happening to her friend and say nothing. Eventually their phone calls stopped.”
The sadness that momentarily consumed her…for both women…had to be pushed aside. This was business.
Harper looked Mason in the eye. “Miriam just climbed out a window to preserve her sense of independence and control. Don’t you find the idea of her giving in to Bruce due to a loss of confidence a little hard to believe?”
His lack of an answer was an answer in itself.
He’d come to her for the information she could give him. Harper felt the responsibility acutely. She said, “Look, Mason, I see some of what you’re saying. Bruce can be a bit controlling. Maybe he does embellish to elicit sympathy sometimes, but there’s got to be more going on here. Miriam not seeing Grace for a year… That can’t just be because Bruce was getting overprotective. Grace has known Bruce all his life! Why not talk to him?”
“Grace said she tried. He gave her a heartfelt testimony of his love for Gram, insisting that he only wanted what was best for her. He said he hadn’t told her not to do her volunteer work, that she’d sworn she wanted to be at home, caring for him.” He paused, looked down at his hands, then back at her. “She claimed he had tears in his eyes when he said it.”
“But you just said that, according to Grace, Bruce did tell her not to do volunteer work.”
“Another reason I need to speak with Gram in the morning.”
She didn’t miss the “tears in his eyes” reference, reminding her of the night Bruce had begged her to marry him. She even experienced a second of discomfort, until she realized that of course Bruce would have been emotional. His grandmother’s oldest friend had accused him of mistreating her, doubting his devotion to her.
“And none of this even remotely hints at Bruce hurting Miriam. Her arm’s broken. Those bruises on her face…that’s not mental manipulation or emotional abuse.”
“Grace said that that one time Miriam was changing a lightbulb and Bruce got home… His tone of voice was not loving or kind. He asked her if she’d lost her fucking mind. Called her an idiot. Grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the ladder, dropping her in her chair. Grace could hear most of it and Gram filed in the rest, insisting that Bruce was just worried and trying to keep her safe. He’d gone in to shower right after, never knowing that Grace had been on the phone the whole time.”
Nausea didn’t visit her often. But when it did, it came abruptly. Harper took a deep breath. Relaxed her stomach muscles. Went to the cooler for a paper cone of water.
She’d given Mason the facts she had to give him. As Grace had. There was no more she could do.
“I can’t comment on that, Mason. I wasn’t there,” she said when her stomach settled, needing him to leave.