What Alice Forgot

These chapters explore Elisabeth’s unhappiness and her relationship with Alice. Alice notes the lines on Elisabeth’s face and notes the stark contrast between Elisabeth today and the Elisabeth she remembers from 10 years ago: Elisabeth and Ben’s struggles to conceive are later revealed as the source of this unhappiness. This is alluded to in Elisabeth’s reference to unhappy memories associated with North Shore Hospital, which is the hospital where Alice is recovering from her head injury and also where Elisabeth has her IVF procedures.

Her desperation for Ben to be a father is evident when she thinks that “people glancing over at traffic lights would see a standard dad ...with his three kids” (59). When Elisabeth talks to Ben on the phone while he is driving his nieces and nephews home, she notes that he sounds “happier than I’ve heard him in weeks” (58). Elisabeth feels responsible for their infertility struggles, and she carries guilt, shame, and resentment, which she projects onto Alice. Elisabeth tries to suppress her unhappiness about her inability to get pregnant, but she is experiencing obvious grief. This shows in bursts of occasional anger, such as when she accidentally bangs her forehead against a cupboard door and releases a “primeval scream of rage” and then “sat on the kitchen floor with [her] back against the fridge and sobbed for twenty minutes” (106). Elisabeth is at a breaking point from the strain of unsuccessful rounds of IVF treatment, and Alice’s situation prompts her to reflect on her own experiences.

The related issues of infertility and motherhood affect Elisabeth and Alice’s relationship. It is difficult for Elisabeth to watch Alice care for her three children, when many expensive and emotionally taxing IVF sessions have led only to miscarriages and heartbreak for Elisabeth and Ben. She finds herself thinking cruel thoughts about Alice and later feels remorseful, such as when she thinks: “[Y]ou think the world begins and ends with you and your perfect little family and your perfect little life” (106). Alice’s opinion that Elisabeth and Ben should stop IVF is also alluded to as a cause of relationship tension. Elisabeth says, tersely, that it’s odd that Alice doesn’t remember Ben as the previous day “you had quite a chat” (72). This is later revealed to be the “chat” where Alice tells Ben that she believes that they should consider adoption.

Alice responds to Elisabeth’s emotional distance by replacing Elisabeth’s sisterly role in her life with other support networks, such as other school moms. This only compounds the strained relationship between the sisters and leads them to treat each other with distant politeness, rather than the genuine caring and confiding that characterized their earlier relationship. Hearing Alice cry on the phone feels “sort of good” to Elisabeth because unlike their recent strained, overly polite conversations, it “felt real” (59). To Elisabeth’s surprise, Alice says, “Libby, thank God it’s you!” with the immense relief and trust of a younger sister ready to be cared for by an older sister (59). This illustrates the role that Elisabeth used to play in Alice’s life and alludes to the role that Alice’s injury—and her resultant regression to “old Alice”—plays in repairing her relationship with Elisabeth. Elisabeth is struck with the thought “you’re back” when she sees Alice looking at her from the hospital bed in a “different, but familiar, way” (63).

These chapters continue to explore the changes Alice experienced over the past 10 years. Elisabeth notes that Alice “seems so much younger; […] even the way she talks is different. It’s slower and softer and less careful” (108). It is clear that Alice, as a busy mother of three, has developed different mannerisms and ways of being—mannerisms 29-year-old Alice would have found too rigid and aggressive. Alice worries that “the other Alice … isn’t very nice” (77).

When Alice wonders flippantly if she feeds her children sausages, Elisabeth stares and tells her: “You would never feed them sausages” (66). Elisabeth’s stare illustrates the extent of Alice’s change—the idea of cooking sausages would clearly be unthinkable to present-day Alice. Elisabeth tells Alice that the muffins Alice bakes are strictly “low fat” and “high fiber […] but surprisingly delicious” (73). These details characterize 39-year-old Alice as a strict and health-conscious mom who dedicates time and thought to feeding her family. Alice knows herself to be unhealthy and disorganized and is shocked with these details. The gap between 29-year-old and 39-year-old Alice implies that becoming a mother changed some of her habits, leading her to take her health more seriously but also altering her personality in ways she does not recognize or condone.

The most shocking change to Alice is that of her relationship with Nick. Alice is relieved when Nick finally calls her because she assumes that he will reassure her and help her like he used to. She is devastated when he snaps at her; their brief conversation shows how much their lives have changed in the past 10 years. A nurse notes that Alice’s blood pressure rises after the conversation, and Alice replies that this is because “my husband just yelled at me like I was his worst enemy” (85).

Adjusting to the reality of her impending divorce without the intervening years to contextualize it confuses and exhausts Alice. Elisabeth assures her that Alice recently told her that “this marriage was dead and buried a long time ago” (85). This is reflected in one of Alice’s dreams, in which she looks at Nick with “pure dislike” (111). This alludes to the important theme of Betrayal and Resentment that Moriarty weaves throughout the novel. Alice is confident, in spite of Elisabeth’s advice to the contrary, that “Nick and I will work out whatever this thing is” (102). This hints at Alice and Nick’s reconciliation, tying into another important theme: Forgiveness and Reconciliation.

Alice and Nick’s children, Madison, Tom, and Olivia, are characterized in their various reactions to Alice’s head injury. Madison’s anger and trauma at her parents’ divorce is illustrated in her “stomp[ing] up to her bedroom” after asking: [D]oes Dad know about this?” (111). Tom’s interest in science, research, and rationality is revealed when he takes Elisabeth aside to ask if Alice has a brain tumor. Olivia’s role as the affectionate, endearing baby of the family is revealed in her decision to make Alice a large, glittery get-well card after exclaiming: “Darling Mummy! This is an absolute tragedy!” (111). Of the children, it is evident that Madison is the most challenging and the most troubled with the recent developments in the family’s life.