Chương 12
The answer irritated her anyway.
She stood and carried the untouched mug to the sink.
The phone rang.
Both of them froze.
It was hers.
She looked at the screen.
“Unknown number.”
Frank said nothing.
She answered.
“Hello?”
Her posture changed almost immediately.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“This is she.”
Frank looked away to give her the small dignity of not being watched, though every word mattered.
She listened.
“Yes, she’s my granddaughter.”
Another pause.
“She was here yesterday.”
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the counter.
“Yes.”
Frank heard the quiet, measured cadence of another voice through the phone.
His wife answered in short sentences.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, I held her wrist.”
A longer pause.
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“I instructed the older child to strike her.”
Frank looked at her.
She opened her eyes and met his.
“No, he did not suggest it.”
Another pause.
“No, Ava did not.”
Her face tightened.
“I was angry.”
She listened.
“No.”
Then, after another pause, “Not at Ava entirely.”
Frank lowered his gaze.
The call lasted twelve minutes.
By the end of it, his wife had stopped standing rigidly.
She leaned one hip against the counter as though her legs needed help.
When the call ended, she placed the phone beside the sink.
“Well?”
“They’re opening an assessment.”
Frank waited.
“She said someone may come to speak with us.”
“Today?”
“Possibly.”
“What else?”
His wife rubbed her palms over her face.
“They asked whether Ava stays here regularly.”
“What did you say?”
“The truth.”
Frank watched her.
“She did.”
“Did?”
His wife looked at him.
“She won’t now.”
He nodded.
There was no point arguing with the tense.
The change had already happened.
His phone rang next.
Mark.
Frank answered.
“Morning.”
“Barely.”
Mark sounded exhausted.
“How’s Ava?”
“She woke up asking for pancakes.”
Frank felt relief so quickly it almost embarrassed him.
“That sounds like her.”
“She ate half of one and fed the rest to the dog.”
Frank smiled.
“She knows he’s not supposed to have syrup.”
“Apparently rules collapsed overnight.”
Rachel said something faintly in the background.
Mark replied, “I’m telling him.”
Frank waited.
“We went to the police station this morning.”
His smile disappeared.
“How did that go?”
“They took a report.”
“Did they ask about me?”
“Yes.”
Frank looked at his wife.
She watched him carefully.
“What did you tell them?”
“What happened.”
“Good.”
Mark paused.
“They may want a statement from you.”
“I’ll give one.”
“And from your wife.”
“She already talked to child services.”
“Okay.”
Mark exhaled.
“Rachel wants to talk to you later.”
“About what?”
“Ava.”
Frank gripped the coffee cup.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.”
Mark corrected himself.
“I mean, yes, obviously something’s wrong.”
“But nothing new.”
“No.”
Frank breathed again.
“She asked why Grandma wanted Eli to hit her.”
His wife closed her eyes.
“What did Rachel say?”
“That Grandma made a bad choice.”
Frank nodded.
“She asked if Grandma doesn’t like her.”
His wife turned away.
Frank looked at the floor.
“What did Rachel say?”
“She said Grandma loves her.”
Frank heard movement on the other end.
“Then Ava asked why people hurt people they love.”
The kitchen seemed to lose air.
Frank put the cup down.
“What did Rachel say?”
“She said sometimes adults make bad choices when they’re angry.”
His wife had begun crying silently again.
Mark continued.
“Then Ava said you made a bad choice too.”
Frank closed his eyes.
“She’s right.”
“Yeah.”
The word was not cruel.
That made it harder.
Frank rubbed his forehead.
“What does Rachel want from me?”
“She wants Ava to hear you say it again when she’s calmer.”
“And she wants you to stop explaining your wife to everyone.”
Frank opened his eyes.
“What?”
Mark hesitated.
“She says you’ve spent your whole marriage translating her.”
Frank looked across the room.
His wife was listening now.
He lowered his voice.
“Rachel said that?”
“Yeah.”
Frank almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was too precise.
Mark continued.
“She says every time your wife does something harsh, you turn it into context.”
Frank said nothing.
“Stress.”
Silence.
“Family history.”
Silence.
“Her childhood.”
Frank looked at his wife.
She was staring back at him.
“Being overwhelmed.”
Mark paused.
“I don’t think Rachel wants you to stop loving her.”
Frank swallowed.
“She wants you to stop making her easier for everyone else to tolerate.”
His wife flinched.
Frank stood and walked toward the window.
The backyard looked flat and colorless under the morning sky.
“Did Rachel tell you to say all that?”
“No.”
Mark’s tone softened.
“She said most of it last night.”
Frank nodded though Mark could not see him.
“Okay.”
“Also, Eli’s mom called.”
“What happened?”
“She wants him to talk to somebody.”
“A therapist?”
“Probably.”
Frank looked back at his wife.
She covered her mouth.
“She thinks he’s blaming himself.”
“He is.”
“You know that?”
“He apologized to Ava.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean—”
“He asked if he was in trouble.”
Mark went quiet.
Frank continued.
“He knew it was wrong and did it anyway because an adult told him to.”
“Yeah.”
“He’s going to carry that.”
“Maybe.”
“No.”
Frank’s voice hardened.
“He will.”
Mark did not argue.
Frank lowered his voice.
“That’s on us.”
“On her.”
Mark corrected him.
Frank looked at his wife.
She did not look away.
“Mostly.”
Mark gave a tired sigh.
“Rachel’s looking at me like I’m keeping you on the phone too long.”
“That sounds healthy.”
For the first time, Mark laughed.
It lasted less than a second.
“I’ll tell her.”
The call ended.
Frank placed the phone on the counter.
His wife wiped her face.
“What did he mean about you explaining me?”
Frank leaned against the sink.
“You heard him.”
“I heard words.”
“You know what he meant.”
She looked down.
“Do you agree?”
Frank did not answer immediately.
That hesitation was answer enough.
His wife nodded.
“I see.”
“It doesn’t mean everything about you is wrong.”
“There you go.”
May you like
Frank stopped.
She looked at him.
