Chương 10
“We’re leaving.”
“Wait.”
“No.”
“I need to understand this.”
“You need to understand everything today.”
Her voice sharpened.
“I don’t have that luxury.”
She pointed toward Noah without looking at him.
“I have medication to pick up, a three-thirty call with his care coordinator, two girls who missed preschool, and a landlord who thinks a leaking radiator is a decorative feature.”
The children had stopped listening to us and begun fighting over whose turn it was to hold Rex.
Grace took the dinosaur from both of them.
“No one gets Rex.”
“That’s not fair,” Lily said.
“Correct.”
Sophie gasped at the injustice.
Noah looked offended on behalf of the dinosaur.
The ordinary argument broke something in me.
I stepped back.
“Let me drive you.”
“No.”
“You have three kids and a stroller.”
“I also have a car.”
“Where?”
“Two blocks away.”
“You took the bus.”
“My brother has the car seat base.”
Claire frowned.
“That sentence made no sense.”
Grace rubbed her forehead.
“He borrowed my car last night because his battery died.”
“Then how are you getting home?”
“Train.”
“With Noah like this?”
Grace’s eyes flashed.
“People with sick children still take trains, Ryan.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
That one was true too.
I looked at Noah.
He had lowered himself onto the stroller seat and was resting his head against the side.
The sudden drop in his energy frightened me.
“Please.”
Grace followed my gaze.
Her anger shifted.
She checked Noah’s forehead with the back of her hand.
“Buddy?”
“I’m tired.”
“I know.”
“Home?”
“Yeah.”
He closed his eyes.
Grace exhaled.
Then she looked at me.
“One ride.”
I nodded.
“No arguments.”
“Fine.”
“No stopping anywhere.”
“Fine.”
“No surprise visits afterward.”
I hesitated.
Her expression hardened.
“Fine.”
Claire raised a hand.
“Can I come?”
“No,” Grace and I said together.
Claire blinked.
“Wow.”
Grace almost smiled.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.”
Claire looked at the children again.
Her voice softened.
“Can I see them again?”
Grace did not answer immediately.
Sophie was trying to put her paper crown on Noah without waking him.
Lily whispered instructions much too loudly.
Grace watched them.
“Maybe.”
Claire nodded.
For once, she did not push.
My driver was twenty minutes away, so I ordered a larger rideshare with enough room for the stroller.
Grace insisted on installing the temporary booster seats she kept folded in the stroller compartment.
I had never seen anything like them.
“They’re legal?”
I asked.
She gave me a look.
“Yes.”
“I’m asking.”
“And I answered.”
The driver, a middle-aged man named Jorge, helped load the stroller.
He looked at the three children and then at me.
“Busy day.”
“You could say that.”
Grace buckled Noah in.
Claire stood under the awning with her arms folded.
Before I got into the car, she caught my sleeve.
“Ryan.”
“What?”
“Don’t go after Mom like this.”
I stared at her.
“She knew.”
“I know.”
“She hid this from me.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you defending her?”
“I’m not.”
Claire looked toward the car.
“I’m telling you not to blow up five lives before you know exactly what happened.”
“Five?”
She glanced at the children.
“Six, if you count Amelia.”
The name landed heavily.
Claire saw it.
“She’s wrecked.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I almost laughed.
Apparently everyone had agreed today was the day to ask me that question.
“I called her.”
“That doesn’t fix it.”
“I know.”
Claire squeezed my arm once.
“Good.”
Then she stepped back.
Grace had given Jorge an address in Ravenswood.
I heard it and said nothing.
The ride took nearly half an hour in traffic.
Sophie fell asleep against the window.
Lily did not stop talking.
She narrated every truck, dog, bicycle, and person carrying an umbrella.
Grace answered about one question in four.
I answered two.
Lily eventually decided I was useful.
“Do you have kids?”
The car went quiet.
Grace stared out the window.
I looked at Lily.
“I think I do.”
She frowned.
“That’s weird.”
“Yes.”
“How do you not know?”
“Lily,” Grace said.
“What?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Everything is complicated.”
Jorge laughed quietly from the front.
Grace covered her mouth.
I looked out the window so she would not see me smile.
Noah slept the whole way.
At the apartment building, I understood several things Grace had not said.
The entryway was narrow.
The paint around the buzzer panel was peeling.
A handwritten sign warned tenants not to leave packages unattended because of theft.
The radiator visible through the first-floor window had a bucket under it.
Grace had not exaggerated.
“I can carry him.”
I reached for Noah.
Grace stopped me.
“He wakes up badly.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
She unbuckled him herself.
Noah woke anyway.
His eyes opened halfway.
“Mom?”
“I’ve got you.”
He pressed his face into her shoulder.
I carried the stroller.
Claire had called while we were in the car and arranged for Marcus to meet us at the building.
He was already waiting on the second-floor landing.
Grace’s brother was broader than I remembered, with close-cropped hair and a gray sweatshirt that said NORTHWESTERN MAINTENANCE across the chest.
He took one look at me and stopped.
“No.”
Grace sighed.
“Marcus.”
“No.”
“Move.”
“He is not coming inside.”
“I said move.”
Marcus looked at her.
Then at Noah.
Then back at me.
His jaw tightened.
“You found him.”
“Actually, he found us.”
“That tracks.”
I set the stroller down.
“Good to see you too.”
“It isn’t.”
Grace shifted Noah higher.
“Marcus.”
He stepped aside.
I followed them into the apartment.
It was clean and crowded.
Toys filled two baskets under the windows.
Three small coats hung from hooks by the door.
Children’s drawings covered one wall.
A drying rack stood beside the radiator with tiny socks clipped across it.
I noticed the kitchen table first.
Four chairs.
Not five.
There was no space waiting for me.
Of course there wasn’t.
Marcus took Noah from Grace without asking.
May you like
Noah immediately settled against him.
“How’d it go, little man?”
