Chương 10
The nurse explained that he had no fever and suspected anxiety. Claire signed him out.
In the car, he asked, “Are you taking me to Grandma’s?”
“Your mom hasn’t answered.”
“She’s at work.”
“I know.”
“Grandma’s mad at you.”
“I know that too.”
He looked out the window. “Everybody’s mad at everybody.”
Claire pulled away from the curb. “That seems accurate.”
“Mom said tomorrow is ruined.”
“What do you think?”
He rubbed the zipper on his backpack. “I don’t want to go to school Monday.”
“Why?”
“Everyone knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That there’s no party.”
“Did someone say something?”
“Eli asked if his mom should return the present.”
Claire turned onto a quieter street. “That was rude.”
“He didn’t mean it rude.”
“Then it was accidentally rude, which still counts a little.”
Owen almost smiled.
At a red light, he said, “Did Mom steal your money?”
Claire kept her eyes on the signal.
“Who told you that?”
“I heard Grandma say you were treating Mom like she stole it.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No one told me.”
Children, Claire thought, learned conversation from the adults around them.
“Your mom used my card and signed my name without asking me,” she said. “The bank is fixing it.”
“Is she going to jail?”
The light changed. The driver behind Claire honked almost immediately.
“I don’t know.”
“Would you make her go?”
“I don’t decide that.”
“Could you tell them not to?”
“I have to tell the truth about what happened.”
Owen pulled his sleeves over his hands. “Mom says truth is more important to you than people.”
Claire drove another block before answering.
“Sometimes people say that when the truth makes them uncomfortable.”
“That sounds like a work answer.”
“It probably is.”
“Do you love Mom?”
Claire turned into a small shopping plaza and parked outside a sandwich shop. She did not want to answer while moving.
“Yes.”
“Then why are you doing bad things to her?”
“I’m not trying to do bad things to her.”
“But bad things are happening.”
“Yes.”
He looked directly at her. His eyes were Vanessa’s—wide, blue-gray, quick to show injury.
Claire unfastened her seat belt. “Your mom made a choice that caused a problem. I can’t make the problem disappear by pretending the choice was okay.”
“You could pay.”
“I could.”
“Then why don’t you?”
Because eleven thousand dollars was not the first rescue. Because Lillian had known. Because accepting the charge would teach Vanessa that Claire’s boundaries were temporary obstacles. Because Claire had spent years confusing usefulness with love. None of those answers belonged entirely to a ten-year-old.
“Because it was taken from me without permission,” she said. “And because paying would not fix the part that matters.”
“What part matters?”
“That she used my name.”
Owen considered this. “I use Mom’s name when I order pizza.”
“Does she tell you to?”
“Yes.”
“Then you have permission.”
“Oh.”
They ate grilled cheese sandwiches in the car because Owen did not want anyone from school to see him. He picked the crusts off and arranged them into a square on the wrapper.
After several minutes, he said, “I didn’t want thirty-two kids.”
“How many did you want?”
“Maybe six.”
“What did you want to do?”
“Laser tag. But Noah’s mom says it’s violent.”
“Mini golf?”
“Boring.”
“Bowling?”
“Shoes are gross.”
Claire took a bite of her sandwich. “You are difficult to celebrate.”
“I know.”
That small confession, spoken without shame, nearly undid her.
Vanessa finally called at two. She had been meeting with the hotel’s legal representative and had left her phone in the car. When Claire explained where Owen was, Vanessa began crying.
“I forgot the school had your number.”
“You should keep it.”
“I thought you would remove yourself.”
“I didn’t.”
“I don’t know why.”
“For Owen.”
The answer hurt both of them.
Vanessa met them in the parking lot. She wore navy scrubs from the dental office and no makeup. Without the cream dress and styled hair, she looked younger and more exhausted. Owen climbed out before the car fully stopped and ran to her.
Vanessa held him tightly. Then she looked at Claire over his shoulder.
“The hotel wants twenty-seven hundred dollars for vendor costs,” she said.
“Did they provide documentation?”
“Yes.”
“Have someone review the contract.”
“Who?”
“A lawyer.”
“With what money?”
Claire almost offered to pay for an hour of legal advice. The old reflex rose so naturally that she had the sentence ready. She stopped herself.
“Your employer may have an assistance program,” she said. “The local bar association may have referral options.”
Vanessa’s expression closed. “There you are again.”
“What does that mean?”
“Giving me a brochure instead of help.”
“I gave you a direction.”
“You know what I mean.”
Owen pulled away from her. “Can we go home?”
Vanessa looked down at him and softened immediately. “Yes, baby.”
“I’m not a baby.”
“Today you are.”
He complained, but he took her hand.
Before they walked away, Claire opened her trunk and removed the blue windbreaker.
“You left this at Grandma’s.”
Owen took it. “I thought it was lost.”
“Not lost.”
Vanessa looked at the jacket, then at Claire.
Neither thanked the other.
On Saturday, the day the hotel party should have occurred, Vanessa held a small gathering at Lillian’s house.
Claire was not invited.
At ten that morning, Owen sent a photograph of a grocery-store cake with blue icing and one corner damaged. Six children stood behind it in ordinary clothes. A hand-painted sign read HAPPY BIRTHDAY OWEN, with the W squeezed between two letters because someone had misjudged the spacing.
We are doing laser tag later, he wrote.
Claire stared at the message.
She typed, Happy birthday, bug. Then deleted bug and wrote Owen because she did not know who might read it aloud.
He answered with a photograph of the scratchy navy jacket lying on Lillian’s hallway floor.
Claire laughed for the first time in days.
May you like
At noon, Marisol called.
Daniel had told Claire she could accept contact but should not guide or pressure her. Claire recorded the time in her notebook and answered.
