Page 11 of Chasing the Horizon

“I know. But it’s not like I can tell her that,” Valerie offered.

“Do you like Catherine?”

Valerie pondered this for a moment. “I don’t know if we’d be friends outside of this arrangement, I guess. But it’s more because Catherine is only friends with the elite.”

“Ugh. Remember how we used to avoid these kinds of people back in the city?”

“Of course.” Valerie sighed. “But those kinds of people pay big money for baby showers. And they tell their friends about you if you do a good job.”

“You’re brilliant, you know that?” Alex said with a laugh. “Why don’t you come home and help me get funding for my documentary? It’s clear you’re the brains in the family.”

“I can’t. I have to go help the top brains in the Sutton family write a book,” Valerie said.

But she felt staggered with a profound sense of fatigue, one she knew was related to pregnancy.

“Get home as soon as you can,” Alex said. “I’m going to order pizza.”

“We can’t order pizza,” Valerie reminded him. “We have to save money for a house!”

“It’s just a little pizza,” Alex teased, then offered, “I’ll make the dough myself.”

“There’s an idea.”

They said they loved one another and got off the phone.

Inside, Valerie found her mother doing an exercise video in front of the television. Esme was bending and bouncing, her socked feet flying, and she didn’t notice Valerie till Valerie had nearly given up getting her attention. Esme paused the video and smiled.

“He’s in his study,” Esme explained. “And he’s in a terrible mood.”

Valerie wrinkled her nose. “Oh no.”

“But I’m sure you’ll help him through,” Esme said.

“I don’t know about that.” Valerie hesitated. “Is it because of couples counseling?”

“He’s been in his study since then.” Esme nodded. “I don’t want to see him!”

Valerie crossed and uncrossed her arms. She wanted to ask her mother why she was doing this to herself. But she also wanted to ask herself that question.

Was this book a bad idea?

“Before you ask,” Esme said, interrupting Valerie’s thoughts, “yes, I still want to get back together with your father. But he needs to do better.”

Valerie nodded.

“And I need to be patient,” Esme said. She turned her exercise video back on.

Upstairs, Valerie knocked on the door to her father’s study and entered when he said she could. She found Victor Sutton at the big mahogany desk he’d once used thirty years ago, a desk that, Valerie guessed, her mother’s second husband had also used frequently during his life here. Victor looked dominant and incredibly serious, hovering over books and notepads, trying, it seemed, to create a timeline or chapter outline for the book.

He didn’t smile when Valerie walked in.

Great, Valerie thought.

“How’s it going?” Valerie asked, sitting in the chair beside him.

She thought about the notes she had for their project on her phone, notes she’d been excited to share with him.

“It’s going. Or it’s not going.” Victor shrugged. “I don’t know. To be honest, I’ve never written a book with someone before. I’m wondering how best to translate my thoughts to you and yours to me.”

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