Chương 16
Sophie thanked her but did not use it.
The yellow one remained beneath Claire’s bed in the plastic container.
In January, Claire found Sophie sitting on the bedroom floor with the container open.
The backpack lay in her lap.
“Do you want company?” Claire asked.
Sophie shrugged.
Claire sat beside her.
The bag still held the bent card for Daniel, the seashell, several dried flower petals, and a crumpled packet of fruit snacks. Sophie removed each object and placed it in a row.
Finally she took out the card.
“Can Dad have it now?”
“Only if you want.”
“It’s old.”
“He won’t care.”
The front showed three black SUVs drawn in marker beneath the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD, though Daniel’s birthday had been months before the party. Sophie had been preparing early.
Inside, she had written:
YOU ALWAYS COME WHEN I NEED YOU EVEN IF YOU ARE LATE.
Claire read it twice.
“Did you write this before the party?”
“Yes.”
“Why the cars?”
“Because Dad likes black cars.”
Claire smiled despite the ache in her chest.
Sophie touched the bent corner. “It’s not true now.”
“What part?”
“He didn’t always come.”
“No one always does.”
“Should I cross it out?”
“You could.”
“Would it hurt his feelings?”
“Maybe.”
“Is that bad?”
“Not always.”
Sophie took a pencil from Claire’s nightstand. She crossed out ALWAYS and wrote TRY TO above it.
The sentence became:
YOU TRY TO COME WHEN I NEED YOU EVEN IF YOU ARE LATE.
She carried the card downstairs.
Daniel was repairing a loose cabinet hinge. He had become interested in small household fixes during unemployment, though he usually required three online videos and twice the recommended time.
Sophie handed him the card.
He read it.
Claire watched his eyes stop at the correction.
“It was bent at the party,” Sophie said.
“I like it bent.”
“That’s weird.”
“I’m your father. I’m allowed to be weird in specific ways.”
She leaned against the counter.
“Are you sad I crossed out always?”
“Yes.”
“Are you mad?”
“No.”
“Will you try?”
“Yes.”
She studied him. “That’s what people say when maybe no.”
Daniel set down the screwdriver.
“You’re right. So I’ll say what I can do. I can answer when you call. I can listen when Mom says something feels wrong. I can stop asking both of you to make difficult people comfortable. And when I fail, I can tell the truth about it.”
Sophie considered the list.
“Also come to my spring concert.”
“I will put it on the calendar now.”
He did.
Claire stood in the doorway with her arms folded.
Daniel looked at her. “You too.”
“I heard.”
“I was not only speaking to her.”
“I know.”
In February, Daniel accepted a position at a smaller investment firm in Stamford. It paid less and had no family name attached. On his first day, he took the train instead of a black SUV.
Sophie insisted on walking him to the station.
The platform was crowded with commuters staring at phones and balancing coffee. Daniel wore the same black tailored suit he had worn to the party, though he had replaced the tie.
When the train arrived, Sophie hugged him around the waist.
“Come home,” she said.
“I will.”
“On time.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She pulled back. “Trying.”
He nodded. “Trying.”
The word no longer meant the same thing it had in Claire’s bedroom. It was not a promise disguised as certainty. It was an admission that choices had to be repeated.
The train carried him away.
In March, Eleanor sent Sophie a birthday package even though her birthday was not until June.
The return address belonged to Lydia.
Lydia called before Claire opened it.
“I didn’t agree to this,” she said. “Eleanor left it on my porch with a note asking me to deliver it. I should have returned it, but Caroline brought it inside without realizing.”
“What’s in it?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire brought the unopened package to Rachel’s office. Inside was a jewelry box containing the sapphire bracelet.
There was no letter.
The bracelet Richard had accused Sophie of stealing, then claimed missing, had reappeared as a gift.
Rachel photographed it and contacted the prosecutor overseeing Richard’s probation. Because the package came indirectly and was sent by Eleanor, it did not clearly violate Richard’s no-contact order. The bracelet was returned through counsel.
When Claire told Sophie, the child became very still.
“Grandma gave me the stealing bracelet?”
“She tried to.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she think I wanted it?”
“Maybe she thought giving it away would change what it meant.”
Sophie looked toward the stairs.
“I don’t want it under your bed.”
“It isn’t here.”
“Good.”
The incident led them to seek a separate civil protective order against indirect contact from both Richard and Eleanor. The court granted a temporary order and scheduled a hearing.
Eleanor contested it.
At the hearing, her attorney argued the bracelet had been offered as a gesture of reconciliation. Claire testified that sending the object at the center of Sophie’s trauma, through a relative, after repeated requests for no contact, showed disregard for the child’s boundaries.
Eleanor testified too.
She said she believed Sophie would someday appreciate owning a family heirloom.
“Did Sophie ask for the bracelet?” Claire’s attorney asked.
“No.”
“Did her parents ask you not to contact her?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you send it?”
Eleanor paused.
From the gallery, Claire watched her choose between several polished answers. None arrived in time.
“Because it belongs in the family,” she said.
The court extended the order for one year.
Outside, Lydia sat beside Eleanor on a bench.
Claire expected her to rise and come toward them. She did not.
Later, Lydia called.
“She asked me to drive her home,” she said.
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I’m not asking permission. I only don’t want you to think I’ve changed sides.”
May you like
Claire stood in the grocery store parking lot, the same one where she had once bought unnecessary milk.
“There shouldn’t be sides,” she said.
