Chương 4
“Put the phone away.”
He stopped.
The grandfather stood with Ava in his arms.
“Call your mother.”
The grandmother turned on him.
“Do not undermine me.”
“He asked to go home.”
“He is staying until dinner.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“This is my family too.”
“That doesn’t make him your property.”
The cousin took his phone out.
His fingers shook as he unlocked it.
The grandmother laughed once without humor.
“This is unbelievable.”
“No,” the grandfather said.
“I think the unbelievable part was earlier.”
She looked at him with a coldness he had seen across dining tables, hospital waiting rooms, funerals, and long drives when neither of them had wanted to admit they were angry.
“You always do this.”
He almost asked what she meant.
Then he stopped.
She continued anyway.
“You swoop in at the end and get to be good.”
The words landed because there was truth in them.
He had spent years leaving difficult family decisions to her.
He disliked confrontation until confrontation became unavoidable.
Then he entered angry and decisive, which allowed him to feel principled without enduring the months of smaller conflicts that came before.
His wife saw his silence.
“That’s right.”
He looked down at Ava.
She had one fist around his collar.
“You leave me to enforce everything,” the grandmother said.
“You disappear into work, golf, lunches, whatever else, and then when someone complains, suddenly I’m cruel and you’re Grandpa Wonderful.”
The cousin looked up from his phone.
No one stopped her.
She pointed toward the hallway.
“Who handled Rachel when she skipped school?”
“You did.”
“Who dealt with Mark when he crashed the car?”
“You did.”
“Who kept this family functioning while you were off being admired?”
He shifted his weight.
“Mostly you.”
The admission took some energy out of her.
“Exactly.”
“But none of that gives you permission to do what happened today.”
Her face hardened again.
“You cannot separate them.”
“I can.”
“Of course you can.”
The cousin’s phone began ringing.
Everyone looked at it.
He whispered, “Mom.”
The grandmother’s hand moved as if to take the phone.
The boy recoiled.
That stopped her.
The recoil lasted less than a second, but everyone saw it.
Her hand dropped.
The grandfather watched her face.
For the first time, something like shame appeared.
The cousin answered.
“Hi.”
His voice broke immediately.
He turned away from the adults.
“No, I’m okay.”
A pause.
“Can you come get me?”
Another pause.
He pressed his lips together.
“Please.”
The grandfather walked toward the other side of the kitchen to give him privacy.
Ava rested her cheek against his shoulder.
“Grandpa?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have juice?”
He looked at her.
The question was so ordinary that it nearly undid him.
“Sure.”
He opened the refrigerator with one hand.
Ava pointed.
“The purple one.”
He pulled out a small bottle of grape juice and set her on the counter long enough to twist the cap.
She kept one hand gripping his sleeve.
He handed her the bottle.
She took two sips.
“Cold.”
“It came from the refrigerator.”
“I know.”
He smiled faintly.
Behind them, the cousin was telling his mother he wanted to go home now.
Not later.
Now.
The grandmother returned to the sink.
She rinsed the glass she had used even though it could have gone into the dishwasher.
Water ran longer than necessary.
The grandfather watched her back.
He had seen her do that before.
At Rachel’s wedding, after an argument with her sister.
At the hospital after his brother died.
At home the night their oldest son announced he was moving across the country.
She washed things when she had no acceptable sentence.
The cousin ended his call.
“She’s coming.”
His grandmother turned off the water.
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“She works thirty minutes away.”
“She left already.”
The grandmother gave a tight nod.
“Fine.”
The boy sat again.
No one knew what to say.
Ava drank more juice.
The bodyguard appeared briefly in the doorway.
He had straightened his shirt.
His jaw looked slightly swollen.
“I’m leaving.”
The grandfather nodded.
His wife turned.
“You are being paid to stay until nine.”
The man looked at her.
“Not tonight.”
“You cannot simply walk off.”
“I can.”
“You have a contract.”
“I have a phone.”
The grandfather almost smiled at that, but the man did not.
The bodyguard looked toward the children.
Then at the grandfather.
“I should have stepped in sooner.”
The grandmother’s face reddened.
“You had no right.”
“No.”
He paused.
“But I had a choice.”
The cousin stared at him.
The man rubbed his jaw.
“I made the wrong one.”
The grandfather nodded once.
“So did I.”
The bodyguard held his gaze.
Then he left.
The front door opened and shut.
The grandmother stood rigid beside the sink.
“You’ve managed to turn everyone against me in under fifteen minutes.”
“No one planned this.”
“You don’t have to plan humiliation for it to work.”
The grandfather looked at her.
“This is not about humiliating you.”
“It is always about humiliating someone when you gather an audience.”
“The audience was here before I was.”
She flinched.
It was slight.
He saw it anyway.
Ava leaned toward him.
“I want Mommy.”
He kissed her hair.
“She’ll be home soon.”
“When?”
He checked the clock above the stove.
“About an hour.”
“That’s long.”
“For you, yes.”
She sighed with the exhausted seriousness of a child who had endured enough adult time for one day.
The cousin slid the yellow truck across the table with one finger.
He must have carried it in from the family room without anyone noticing.
Ava watched it roll.
He stopped it before it reached her.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at the toy.
Then at him.
“Don’t spank me again.”
His face crumpled.
“I won’t.”
“Even if Grandma says?”
He glanced toward his grandmother.
She looked away first.
“Even if anybody says.”
Ava considered him.
Then she pushed the truck back.
He caught it.
May you like
The grandfather said nothing.
The children had managed, awkwardly and without speeches, to reach the part the adults were still avoiding.
