Chương 5
“You need to stop talking like this.”
“Whose name is on the title?”
Mom’s voice cut through the background, louder now.
“Hang up.”
Dad did not.
I heard movement.
Then Lauren said something.
Three people talking at once.
Dad lowered his voice.
“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”
I gripped the phone.
“Whose name?”
“You’re behaving irrationally.”
That answer told me more than any answer could have.
My stomach turned.
Grandpa held his hand out again.
This time I gave him the phone.
He raised it to his ear.
“Richard.”
Dad’s voice changed instantly.
“Frank, this has gotten out of hand.”
“No.”
A pause.
“It’s been out of hand for some time.”
Another pause.
Grandpa looked toward me.
“She is coming for her identification and the baby’s documents.”
Dad said something long enough that Grandpa’s face went flat.
“No one is entering your bedroom.”
Another pause.
“No one is searching your house.”
His voice remained almost gentle.
“You will place her documents in an envelope and hand them to her at the door.”
Dad spoke again.
Grandpa listened.
Then he said, “If you cannot identify which documents belong to your adult daughter without searching the house, that is a separate problem.”
He ended the call.
I stared at him.
“What did he say?”
“That your mother needs time to find everything.”
A pulse started behind my eyes.
“How much time?”
“He suggested tomorrow afternoon.”
“Why?”
Grandpa handed my phone back.
“That is what we are going to find out.”
The drive back to my parents’ house took eleven minutes, and I spent every one of them imagining reasons a person might need until tomorrow afternoon to find a driver’s license.
None of the reasons made me feel better.
Noah slept through the entire ride, one mittened hand tucked beneath his chin.
Grandpa did not turn on the radio.
At the last stoplight, he said, “You can stay in the car.”
“I know.”
“You do not have to prove anything by going to the door.”
“I know.”
“If somebody starts yelling, we leave.”
“I know.”
He glanced at me.
“You say that when you mean the opposite.”
“I’m trying to be agreeable.”
“It’s unsettling.”
That made me laugh once, too sharply, and then the light changed.
When we turned onto my parents’ street, every downstairs light in the house was on.
Lauren’s Cadillac sat crooked in the driveway.
My car, I reminded myself.
The thought still felt presumptuous.
Grandpa parked at the curb instead of pulling in.
The bicycle was gone.
I stared at the empty patch of grass where we had left it.
“Dad brought it in.”
“Probably.”
“That’s good.”
Grandpa looked at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m allowed to care about the bike.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
His voice held no judgment, which somehow made me more defensive.
I unbuckled Noah’s carrier.
“Stay here with him.”
Grandpa shook his head.
“You stay with him.”
“I need to go inside.”
“No.”
“They’ll give you whatever they want you to see.”
“And they’ll give you more because you’re there?”
I had no answer.
The front door opened.
Dad stepped onto the porch.
He wore his reading glasses even though there was nothing in his hands to read.
He looked toward the sedan, then back into the house.
Grandpa got out.
I followed before I could change my mind.
Cold air rushed beneath my coat.
Dad came down one step.
“Madison, leave the baby in the car.”
The familiarity of the command irritated me immediately.
“No.”
“It’s freezing.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then why are you standing outside?”
“Because you told us not to come in.”
Dad’s mouth tightened.
“That is not what I said.”
Grandpa stayed beside me.
Dad looked at him.
“I asked for a little time.”
“You had time.”
“Forty minutes.”
“To find a wallet?”
“It isn’t a wallet.”
The words came out too fast.
Dad caught himself.
I did too.
“What is it?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Your mother keeps a folder.”
“Then give me the folder.”
“You don’t need everything in it.”
“Why not?”
“Because some of it is household paperwork.”
“My household paperwork?”
“Madison.”
I shifted Noah’s carrier to my other hand.
The handle was digging into my palm.
“What is in the folder?”
Dad looked past me toward the street.
A neighbor was walking a dog across the intersection.
He waited until she passed before answering.
“Insurance information, copies of tax forms, medical bills.”
“Mine?”
“Some.”
“Then I want mine.”
The front door opened wider.
Mom appeared behind him.
Her face looked swollen around the eyes.
She had put on lipstick.
That detail bothered me more than it should have.
“Can we please do this inside?” she asked.
Grandpa answered before I could.
“No.”
Mom looked wounded.
“You think I’m dangerous now?”
“I think Madison asked for her documents.”
“I heard you.”
“Then bring them.”
Mom folded her arms.
“You always do this.”
Grandpa’s expression barely changed.
“Do what?”
“You decide there is a villain and then you become righteous.”
“That sounds tiring.”
“It is.”
She looked at me.
“This is what he does, Madison.”
I almost asked what she meant.
Then Lauren stepped into the doorway.
She was holding my driver’s license between two fingers.
“Here.”
I stared at it.
My own face looked back at me from across the porch.
“Give it to me.”
Lauren came down two steps.
“Can you at least admit this is insane?”
“Give me my license.”
“I’m giving it to you.”
“You’re holding it.”
She rolled her eyes and came closer.
Grandpa did not move.
Lauren stopped in front of me.
For a second, we were close enough that I could smell her perfume.
She tucked the license into the pocket of my coat.
“There.”
Her voice softened.
“Happy?”
The old response rose automatically.
Sorry.
I swallowed it.
“No.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“What else do you want?”
“My insurance card.”
Mom answered from the porch.
“It’s in my purse.”
“Get it.”
May you like
“You don’t speak to me like that.”
I closed my eyes for half a second.
