Chương 6
Laura had gone silent.
That silence had scared him more than shouting would have.
Later, she had asked whether there was anything else he had not told her.
He had said no.
That answer had been true about pills and false about almost everything else.
He had not told her the warehouse had cut overtime.
He had not told her their checking account had gone negative twice.
He had not told her he had borrowed eight hundred dollars from Mara.
And he had not told Mara that Laura believed the loan came from an emergency fund Daniel had supposedly kept from before their marriage.
“Daniel.”
He looked up.
Ruth was holding out his ringing phone.
He had set it beside him without noticing.
Mara again.
He answered.
“Where did you get that picture?”
“I’m at the hospital.”
His body went rigid.
“You said you were driving.”
“I was driving here.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody needed to come.”
“I was coming.”
“You hung up on everyone.”
“I hung up on you.”
“And the social worker.”
“How do you know that?”
“She’s standing ten feet away from me.”
Daniel stood.
Ruth stepped back to give him room.
“Put Cynthia on.”
“No.”
“Mara.”
“You’re angry.”
“Of course I’m angry.”
“That’s why I’m not putting her on.”
“You sent me a picture of a prescription bottle with my name on it.”
“I sent it because you needed to see it before you walked in here.”
The convenience-store clerk glanced over from the register.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Who found it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ask.”
“I’m not interrogating nurses for you.”
“Mara, somebody put that bottle in Laura’s bag.”
“Maybe Laura put it there.”
“Why would she have a prescription in my name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t prove somebody planted it.”
The word planted sounded absurd when spoken aloud.
Daniel hated that immediately.
He turned toward the front window.
A number eight bus passed through the intersection in the opposite direction.
The next one toward the hospital would come soon.
“What did Laura say about it?”
Mara hesitated.
“She says it’s yours.”
Daniel’s face went hot.
“She’s lying.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“You’re not even here.”
“I can hear you.”
He walked toward the corner of the store, away from the register.
“What exactly did she say?”
“She said she found the bottle in your work jacket last week.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t own that jacket anymore.”
Mara went quiet.
Daniel’s breathing slowed.
“The gray Carhartt,” he said.
“You remember it.”
“Maybe.”
“You gave me hell because it smelled like hydraulic fluid.”
“I remember a jacket.”
“I threw it away after the chemical spill in July.”
“Could she mean another one?”
“She called it my work jacket?”
“Yes.”
“Those were her words?”
“I think so.”
“No, Mara.”
Daniel pressed his fingertips against his forehead.
“Were those her words?”
“Yes.”
Ruth’s eyes narrowed slightly from several feet away.
Daniel turned his back to her.
“When can I talk to Laura?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re with her?”
“No.”
“Then where are you?”
“Outside the family consultation room.”
“Why?”
Another hesitation.
“Mara.”
“Cynthia asked me to wait.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
He almost laughed.
His sister had always hated saying those words.
“Does Laura know you’re there?”
“Yes.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“For maybe a minute.”
“How did she look?”
The question escaped before Daniel could protect it.
Mara’s voice softened.
“Bad.”
He closed his eyes.
“Bad how?”
“She’s exhausted.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“She’s pale, Danny.”
Nobody called him Danny anymore except Mara when one of them was hurt.
“She has bruising all over her arms from the IVs, and she kept losing track of what I was saying.”
Daniel leaned against a shelf of paper towels.
“Is she in pain?”
“I assume.”
“Did she ask about me?”
Mara did not answer quickly enough.
“What did she say?”
“She asked if you were angry.”
Something inside Daniel gave way without making a sound.
He looked at Owen.
The baby slept through all of it.
“Tell her I’m coming.”
“I already did.”
“I’ll be there in maybe twenty-five minutes.”
“Okay.”
“And Mara?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let anybody take that bottle.”
“I’m not touching it.”
“I mean don’t let them throw it away.”
“It’s already in a plastic evidence bag.”
Daniel straightened.
“What?”
“Security took it.”
“Why is hospital security involved?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mara.”
“I really don’t know.”
He heard voices on her end.
Then Cynthia said something he could not make out.
“I have to go,” Mara said.
“Wait.”
“I’ll see you when you get here.”
The call ended.
Daniel stared at the screen.
Ruth came closer.
“You’re going back?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He gave her a tired look.
“You don’t have to sound relieved.”
“I’m not relieved.”
“What are you?”
“Hungry.”
Daniel looked at her.
Ruth opened her grocery bag and pulled out a package of crackers.
He laughed despite himself.
The laugh startled Owen, whose eyes opened to narrow blue slits.
“Sorry, buddy.”
Ruth ate a cracker.
“You should probably check his diaper before the bus comes.”
Daniel smelled the answer before he checked.
“Fantastic.”
The convenience-store bathroom was occupied again, so Ruth pointed toward a narrow counter beneath the front window.
“You have a changing pad?”
Daniel found the folded waterproof pad in the diaper bag.
He spread it on the counter with the clerk’s reluctant permission.
The diaper change became an operation involving three wipes, one clean diaper, two failed attempts to keep Owen’s feet out of the mess, and a fresh onesie after Daniel discovered the original had not survived.
Ruth stood nearby without interfering until Daniel muttered, “How does he get it up his back?”
“Ancient infant technology.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“It gets more impressive.”
By the time Daniel finished, Owen was awake and calm.
He stared upward with the unfocused solemnity of someone newly arrived and already disappointed by management.
May you like
Daniel buttoned the onesie incorrectly, noticed, swore under his breath, and started again.
For three minutes, there was no hospital, no prescription bottle, no accusation.
