Chương 8
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
“I’ll talk to Emma.”
I found her in the guest room changing into leggings.
She had chosen a yellow sweatshirt with a hood even though the day was warm.
The blue cap lay on the bed.
She looked at me.
“Is Dad here?”
“Yes.”
Her face did not change much.
That frightened me more than tears would have.
“Did he bring Grandma?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I saw him come alone.”
She sat on the edge of the bed.
“Does he know I told about the gum?”
“I don’t know how much he knows.”
That was not entirely true.
Marisol’s face through the window had probably told him enough.
Emma pulled one sleeve over her hand.
“Is he mad?”
“I don’t know.”
She studied my face.
I forced myself not to give her an answer designed to calm her.
“What do you want to do?”
“I can say no?”
“Yes.”
“And he won’t come in?”
“If you say no, he won’t see you right now.”
Emma looked down at her shoes.
“What if he gets sad?”
The question was so familiar that for a second I could not place why it hurt.
Then I understood.
Emma had spent years measuring herself against adult disappointment.
Grandma would be hurt if she did not eat the pie.
Dad would be stressed if she argued.
Mom was tired, so please just cooperate.
None of those moments had seemed dangerous by themselves.
Together they had taught her that other people’s feelings were weather and she was responsible for keeping everyone dry.
“His feelings belong to him,” I said.
She frowned.
“That sounds weird.”
“It does.”
“Like something Aunt Rachel would put on a mug.”
I laughed.
“So what does it mean?”
“It means you don’t have to see someone just to stop them from feeling sad.”
Emma considered that.
“What if I want to see him and I’m still mad?”
“You can do both.”
“What if I don’t know?”
“You can do that too.”
She picked up the blue cap, then put it down again.
“Can he come in the living room?”
“Yes.”
“And you stay?”
“Yes.”
“And the lady stays?”
“If you want.”
Emma nodded.
“The lady can stay.”
I went downstairs.
Rachel had let Daniel into the entryway but no farther.
He stood with his hands in his jacket pockets.
He looked exhausted.
There were gray shadows beneath his eyes I had not noticed two days earlier.
For a moment my body recognized him before my anger did.
This was the man who slept on the right side of our bed, who forgot to close cabinet doors, who bought three kinds of mustard because he could never remember which one I liked.
Then he looked at me and said, “Can I see her now?”
The tenderness vanished.
“She said you can sit in the living room.”
His shoulders loosened.
“Okay.”
“I’ll be there.”
He nodded.
“Fine.”
“Marisol too.”
His shoulders tightened again.
“Is that necessary?”
“Yes.”
He looked at Marisol.
She did not move.
“I came to see my daughter, not have some monitored visitation.”
Rachel muttered, “That went well.”
Daniel ignored her.
I said, “Then leave.”
He stared at me.
“That’s not what I said.”
“It is what you’re choosing between.”
His jaw worked once.
“Fine.”
Emma came downstairs slowly.
Daniel’s whole face changed when he saw her.
He took one step forward.
She stopped on the last stair.
Daniel stopped too.
“Hey, Em.”
“Hi.”
His voice broke slightly on the second word.
“You okay?”
Emma shrugged.
He looked at the hood pulled over her head.
“I miss you.”
Emma looked at me.
I kept my face still.
“I miss Pickles,” she said.
Pickles was our elderly cat.
Daniel gave a small, startled laugh.
“Pickles misses you too.”
“How do you know?”
“He slept on your pillow.”
“That doesn’t mean he misses me.”
“Fair.”
Emma came down the final stair and sat on the far end of the couch.
Daniel took the armchair across from her instead of sitting beside her.
It was the first good decision I had seen him make in days.
Marisol sat near the dining room entrance.
Rachel disappeared into the kitchen with theatrical reluctance.
Daniel rubbed his palms against his jeans.
“I brought you something.”
Emma tensed.
He noticed.
“It’s just your sketchbook.”
He pulled it from under his jacket.
Emma’s shoulders dropped.
“You left it on the coffee table.”
He placed it on the floor between them rather than handing it directly to her.
Emma leaned forward and picked it up.
“Thanks.”
Daniel nodded.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
A truck backed up somewhere outside with a repetitive electronic beep.
Emma opened the sketchbook.
Most of the pages were filled with animals in dresses and elaborate houses with impossible staircases.
She turned to a blank page.
Daniel said, “I’m sorry.”
Her pencil stopped.
He swallowed.
“For what?”
Emma asked.
Daniel looked at me, then back at her.
“For not stopping Grandma.”
Emma waited.
Daniel’s eyes dropped to the floor.
“And for saying good.”
Emma’s fingers tightened around the pencil.
“Why did you say it?”
“I was annoyed.”
“With me?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt, but it was better than another carefully trimmed lie.
“You were taking a long time getting ready, and I was stressed, and I said something mean.”
Emma stared at him.
“Did you want her to shave it?”
“No.”
“Did you want her to cut it?”
Daniel opened his mouth, then closed it.
“I didn’t think about what I wanted.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“You’re right.”
Emma looked toward Marisol.
Marisol gave no sign that she expected any particular answer.
Emma returned to Daniel.
“Did Grandma put gum in my hair?”
Daniel went pale.
I could see the exact moment he understood what she had told them.
“Emma.”
“Did she?”
“I wasn’t there when it happened.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Her voice sounded like mine.
May you like
That frightened me too.
Daniel leaned back in the chair.
