Chương 4
“So do I.”
“That doesn’t make you the priority.”
His expression hardened.
“I didn’t say I was.”
Grace shifted Lily onto her left hip and opened the door.
Nathan was already outside.
He took Grace’s bag without asking this time.
Inside, the waiting room smelled faintly of disinfectant and burnt coffee.
A television mounted near the ceiling played a home renovation show with the captions on.
Two teenagers sat near the corner sharing earbuds.
An elderly man filled out paperwork with a pen attached to a plastic flower.
Normal life continued with an almost insulting lack of interest in what had just happened.
Grace preferred it.
At the reception desk, the woman behind the computer glanced at Grace’s posture and then at Lily.
“What happened?”
Grace opened her mouth.
Nathan answered.
“She was struck on the shoulder.”
Grace looked at him.
The receptionist looked between them.
“With what?”
Nathan hesitated.
Grace said, “A hockey stick.”
The woman’s fingers stopped above the keyboard.
“Was this an accident?”
“No,” Grace said.
Nathan looked at her.
The answer surprised him.
It surprised Grace too.
The receptionist’s expression became careful.
“All right.”
She lowered her voice.
“Do you feel safe going home?”
Grace adjusted Lily.
“Yes.”
“Is the person who hurt you here?”
“No.”
“Do you want law enforcement contacted?”
Nathan watched her.
Grace felt the pressure of his attention and resented it immediately.
“No.”
The receptionist nodded without judgment.
“I’ll note that.”
Nathan leaned closer.
“Can she change that later?”
Grace turned toward him.
The receptionist answered carefully.
“She can make whatever report she chooses whenever she chooses.”
Nathan nodded.
“Thank you.”
Grace’s irritation rose.
“You don’t get to manage this.”
“I asked a question.”
“For me.”
“For information.”
“It sounded like management.”
“Maybe because you remember me managing things.”
Grace stared at him.
The receptionist slid a clipboard across the counter with the expression of someone determined not to become part of a domestic argument.
“Please complete both sides.”
Grace took it.
Her right hand trembled when she tried to hold the pen.
Nathan reached for it.
She pulled away.
“I can write.”
“With your left hand?”
“I’ve signed worse things under worse circumstances.”
He went very still.
Grace regretted the sentence immediately.
Not because it was untrue.
Because he understood that she meant him.
They sat beneath the television.
Lily climbed into the chair beside Grace instead of staying in her lap.
That small act of independence almost made Grace cry.
Instead she handed Lily the plastic rabbit from her bag.
Lily turned it upside down and inspected its feet.
Nathan sat across from them.
His knees looked too long for the molded waiting-room chair.
He had left his suit jacket in the car, and the sleeves of his white shirt were still buttoned at the wrists.
Grace noticed a faint ink mark near his left cuff.
She almost asked about it.
The habit of noticing him had survived years longer than she wanted to admit.
Nathan noticed her looking.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He looked at his cuff.
“This?”
Grace looked away.
“Your pen leaked.”
“It happens.”
“You used to carry better pens.”
“I used to have fewer things going wrong at once.”
The sentence settled between them.
Grace filled in her date of birth.
Then address.
Then emergency contact.
She stopped.
Nathan saw.
“Your mother?”
Grace wrote her mother’s name.
“Yes.”
He leaned back.
The television audience applauded someone revealing a renovated kitchen.
Lily made the rabbit hop along the edge of the chair.
Nathan watched her.
“She has your hands.”
Grace looked up.
“What?”
“Her fingers.”
He swallowed.
“Same as yours.”
Grace stared at Lily’s small hand wrapped around the rabbit.
“No one has ever said that.”
“Who knows?”
Grace’s pen stopped again.
“My mother.”
“Anyone else?”
“My sister.”
“Grace.”
She continued writing.
“One friend.”
“About me?”
“About Lily.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“I know.”
The nurse opened the door and called Grace’s name.
Nathan stood.
Grace stayed seated.
“You’re not coming in.”
His face tightened.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to answer medical questions while you interrogate me.”
“I’m not interrogating you.”
“You have asked me approximately forty questions since we left.”
“Because four years of my life apparently happened without me.”
Grace’s face went cold.
“Your life happened.”
Nathan stopped.
The nurse glanced between them.
Grace stood slowly.
“My life happened too.”
She took Lily’s hand.
The little girl climbed down from the chair.
Nathan looked at Lily, then back at Grace.
His anger faded at the edges.
“I’ll wait here.”
Grace nodded once.
She and Lily followed the nurse through the door.
The examination room was small and too bright.
Grace sat on the paper-covered table while Lily occupied a chair beside her with the rabbit in her lap.
When the nurse asked Grace to rate her pain from one to ten, Grace said five.
Lily said, “Seven.”
The nurse smiled.
“Seven?”
“She made the face in the car.”
Grace sighed.
“Apparently I have an unreliable witness.”
“I’m reliable,” Lily said.
The nurse laughed softly.
Grace did too, and the laugh hurt her shoulder enough to make her stop.
The nurse’s smile faded.
After checking Grace’s blood pressure, she asked again whether Grace felt safe.
Grace said yes.
This time the answer took longer.
The nurse left.
Lily swung her feet beneath the chair.
“Daddy mad?”
Grace looked at her.
“He’s confused.”
“He looked mad.”
“He can be both.”
“Is he my daddy?”
Grace’s throat tightened.
She had expected the question for years.
She had prepared answers appropriate for every age.
None of them survived the sight of Lily waiting.
“Yes.”
Lily considered this.
“Why he not know?”
Grace looked down at her left hand.
Her wedding finger had been bare for a long time, but she still carried the faint habit of rubbing it when she was trapped.
“Because Mommy made a decision a long time ago.”
“Bad decision?”
Grace could not make herself lie.
“Maybe.”
May you like
Lily frowned.
“You say maybe when you don’t want to say yes.”
