Chương 5
Daniel nodded once.
Then his phone began vibrating inside his hoodie.
He froze before reaching for it.
Margaret knew who it was before he looked at the screen.
The color drained from his face.
"Vanessa?" she asked.
Daniel silenced the call.
The phone began vibrating again almost immediately.
He stared at it.
The officer stopped near the truck.
Margaret saw Daniel's thumb hover over the screen.
Then a message appeared.
Even from several feet away, Margaret could see only the first line.
I know where you are.
Daniel stared at the message until the screen dimmed.
Margaret could see the pulse beating hard in his neck.
The officer stepped closer.
"Everything okay?"
Daniel locked the phone and shoved it into his hoodie pocket.
"Yeah."
Margaret looked at him.
"No."
Daniel turned toward her.
"Mom."
"Show him."
"I'm not showing him anything."
The officer's posture changed almost imperceptibly.
He did not reach for his belt or move into Daniel's space.
He simply stopped looking relaxed.
"Sir, if there's a concern about somebody coming to the property, I need to know."
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck.
"It's just my girlfriend."
Margaret said, "The woman who threw the mug."
Daniel gave her a furious look.
The officer's eyes moved to the bandage above Margaret's right eye.
"She's the person involved in your mother's injury?"
Daniel looked toward the street.
"Yes."
"Is there an active protective order?"
"No."
"Any order keeping her away from the residence?"
"No."
Margaret hated how exposed the word sounded.
No.
No official wall.
No piece of paper with enough authority to make the street feel safer.
The officer looked at Daniel.
"What did the message say?"
Daniel hesitated.
Margaret could almost see his instinct to protect Vanessa moving through him, automatic as breathing.
Then he pulled out the phone.
He did not hand it over.
He held it low and opened the message.
The officer read from where he stood.
His expression remained neutral.
"Any other messages?"
Daniel scrolled.
Margaret watched his thumb move.
There were more than she expected.
The officer's eyes narrowed slightly.
"What does 'don't make me come get what's mine' refer to?"
Daniel shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Could mean her belongings?"
"Probably."
Margaret said, "Her things are here."
Daniel looked at her sharply.
"Some of them."
"How much?"
"A couple boxes, clothes, makeup, whatever."
The officer nodded toward the house.
"Are those items packed?"
"Mostly."
Margaret's skin prickled.
She had packed Vanessa's bathroom things herself while wearing rubber cleaning gloves because one glass perfume bottle had shattered in the cabinet during the argument.
She had placed everything she could identify into two boxes and written VANESSA on both sides.
For three days they had sat at the bottom of the basement stairs.
Now she wished they were already outside.
The officer looked at Margaret.
"If she comes here, don't engage with her."
Margaret almost told him she had no intention of doing so.
Then she remembered standing between Vanessa and the front door during the argument because she had been furious about the broken mug and wanted Vanessa to clean it up before leaving.
She had told herself afterward that she had merely been asking for accountability.
The emergency room nurse had asked whether Margaret had blocked the doorway.
Margaret had said no.
Technically, she had not.
She had stood beside it.
Close enough that Vanessa had to move around her.
Close enough that Margaret now heard the nurse's question differently.
"I won't," she said.
Daniel looked at the officer.
"What if she just wants her stuff?"
"Then there are safer ways to arrange that."
"Like what?"
"She can coordinate through you, through a third party, or request a civil standby depending on circumstances."
Daniel gave a tired nod.
The officer glanced toward his watch.
"I can stay while you finish the immediate removal, but if she arrives and there's a disturbance, circumstances change."
Margaret understood what he meant without needing clarification.
The quiet transfer of boxes could become a police call.
The police call could become statements.
Statements could become questions none of them had prepared to answer.
Daniel seemed to understand too.
He looked toward the basement door.
"Let's get the rest."
Margaret stepped inside first.
She moved through the kitchen and into the hallway, aware of Daniel several paces behind her and the officer remaining near the open side entrance.
The house felt different with Daniel following her as a guest.
The basement door creaked at the top hinge.
Paul had promised to oil it at least six times.
Margaret had considered fixing it after he died and then decided the noise helped her know when somebody went downstairs.
She turned on the light.
Daniel stopped at the top step.
"You packed her bathroom stuff?"
"Yes."
He gave her a sideways look.
"You didn't throw anything away?"
"No."
"Even the expensive hair thing?"
"I don't know what an expensive hair thing looks like."
"It was pink."
"That describes half the bathroom."
Daniel made a small sound through his nose.
The moment was so ordinary that Margaret found it almost unbearable.
They had spent years talking this way.
Tiny complaints.
Tiny jokes.
The language of people who assumed tomorrow would preserve the relationship no matter how careless they were with today.
They went downstairs.
The basement still smelled faintly of concrete despite the area rug and sectional Daniel and Vanessa had added when they moved in.
Half the room had already been stripped down.
Pale rectangles marked the wall where framed photographs had hung.
Margaret avoided looking at the largest one.
It had been a picture of Daniel and Vanessa at a lake in Tennessee, both sunburned, both smiling.
Margaret had once thought Vanessa looked beautiful in it.
She had never told her.
Daniel picked up one of the boxes labeled with Vanessa's name.
"What's in this?"
"Bathroom."
"And the other?"
"Closet."
He crouched and opened the top flaps.
Margaret stiffened.
"I packed it carefully."
May you like
"I'm checking."
"I didn't steal anything."
