Chương 11
“He did before.”
“When?”
She shrugged.
“I was little.”
Grandma closed the refrigerator door.
Diane looked toward me.
Noah stopped pretending to search a cabinet for chips.
Hannah handed back the phone.
“He doesn’t usually keep his hair that short either.”
I saved the photograph.
“Thank you.”
She looked suspicious again.
“For what?”
“For telling me.”
“I’m not a witness.”
“No.”
“You did the voice.”
“What voice?”
“The thank-you-for-your-cooperation voice.”
Noah snorted.
I looked at him.
He held up both hands.
“She does have a voice.”
“Apparently everybody is a critic today.”
Grandma pulled a bag of pretzels from the pantry.
“That is what birthdays are for.”
Diane did not smile.
Her phone had been vibrating every few minutes since Marisol asked for the message thread.
She finally looked at the screen.
“It’s Mark.”
Noah’s face changed.
“You told Dad?”
“I had to tell him something.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That there was a problem at the reunion and you weren’t coming home yet.”
“That’s nothing.”
“I know.”
She rubbed her temple.
“He’s called four times.”
“Answer him.”
Diane looked at me as if permission might somehow belong to me now.
I hated that too.
“Go outside to the porch if you want privacy,” I said.
Then I remembered the instruction to keep everyone inside.
“No.”
Diane blinked.
“Sorry.”
I pointed toward Grandma’s bedroom hallway.
“Use the back room.”
Grandma gave me a dry look.
“You’re assigning rooms now?”
“I’m losing my mind politely.”
“That tracks.”
Diane went down the hall.
Noah waited until she was gone.
“Is my mom in trouble?”
The question had none of his earlier sharpness.
He was just fourteen again.
“I don’t know.”
He looked at the kitchen floor.
“With police?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“Could she be?”
I chose my words carefully.
“She shared private case information and communicated with someone involved in Hannah’s case without telling anybody.”
“But that’s not illegal, right?”
“I’m not going to guess.”
He nodded.
His throat moved.
“I don’t want her arrested.”
Hannah looked at him.
“I don’t think Claire wants that.”
He glanced at her.
“How do you know?”
“She gets this line here when she wants to destroy somebody.”
Hannah touched the space between her eyebrows.
“She doesn’t have it.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Wonderful.”
Noah almost smiled.
Then he said, “She was wrong.”
Nobody interrupted him.
“She was really wrong.”
His eyes stayed on the floor.
“But she’s still my mom.”
Hannah’s voice softened.
“I know.”
He looked at her.
Something passed between them that belonged to children who had been forced to understand adult failure earlier than they should have.
Hannah added, “People can suck and still be your person.”
Grandma coughed into her fist.
I turned.
She was hiding a smile.
Noah let out a short laugh.
“Yeah.”
His shoulders loosened.
Diane returned from the hallway ten minutes later with her face pinched and pale.
“Mark is coming.”
Noah stood.
“What?”
“He said he’s picking you up.”
“I’m staying.”
“Your father has shared custody.”
“I know.”
“He is worried.”
“I’m worried too.”
Diane closed her eyes briefly.
“Please don’t make this another fight.”
Noah stared at her.
“You keep saying that when you mean do what I want.”
She flinched.
He saw it.
His anger retreated a little.
“I’m not trying to make it worse,” he said.
“I just don’t want to leave Hannah right now.”
Hannah looked uncomfortable.
“You can go.”
“I know.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because your dad’s coming.”
“So?”
“So your parents already hate each other.”
Grandma said, “Hannah.”
“What?”
She looked genuinely confused.
“I’m not wrong.”
Diane sat down at the table.
“No.”
Her voice was tired.
“You are not.”
Noah leaned against the counter.
“I can tell Dad I want to stay until we know what’s happening.”
“He may not agree.”
“He might.”
Diane looked at him for a long moment.
“Then tell him yourself.”
Noah blinked.
It was such a small concession that nobody should have noticed.
We all did.
He took out his phone and went into the living room.
Diane stared after him.
“He hates conflict.”
I looked at her.
“He handled plenty today.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
She folded her hands together.
“When he was eight, Mark and I used to make him decide which parent got school pictures first.”
Her mouth twisted.
“Like idiots.”
Grandma sat across from her.
“You were divorcing.”
“That does not make us less stupid.”
No.
It did not.
The admission sat there without asking for absolution.
Hannah kept peeling the bottle label.
Diane watched her for a moment.
Then she said, “I should never have put GUEST on that card.”
Hannah did not look up.
“No.”
“I thought if I made the distinction clear, it would keep things from getting confusing.”
“For who?”
Diane swallowed.
“For me, apparently.”
Hannah stopped peeling.
Diane continued before courage left her.
“My brother fostered two children when I was in college.”
This was new information to me.
Grandma’s eyes narrowed.
“Diane.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t believe you do.”
Diane looked at Hannah instead of her mother.
“They lived with him almost a year.”
“What happened?”
“One went home to his father.”
“And the other?”
“Moved to another family.”
“Why?”
“My brother and his wife decided they couldn’t keep fostering.”
Hannah’s expression changed.
Not much.
Enough.
Diane saw it and stumbled over the rest.
“I’m not saying that’s the same as you.”
“Then why are you saying it?”
“Because I got attached.”
Her voice broke slightly.
“I was nineteen and dramatic and thought loving those kids meant they would stay.”
Noah had returned to the doorway.
He did not interrupt.
“When they left, nobody really talked about it.”
Diane rubbed her thumb over the edge of her wedding-ring indentation, though she had been divorced long enough that the skin there should have forgotten.
“My brother stopped fostering.”
She looked at Hannah.
“I guess I decided being careful was smarter than caring.”
Hannah’s face stayed guarded.
May you like
“That sounds dumb.”
Diane laughed once.
