Chương 8
“I’m not blaming anybody, Patricia.”
“You certainly sound like you are.”
“I’m trying to deal with a truck that’s charging us by the hour.”
That was the first practical fact anyone had said.
The driver had climbed down from the cab and was talking with the security guard beside the loading entrance.
Neither looked interested in our family drama.
Their morning had a schedule.
Our crisis was probably one line on it.
Carlos approached us.
“Ms. Carter?”
I turned.
“The moving company understands they don’t have an authorized reservation.”
“Thank you.”
“They need another destination or they’ll return the load to their facility.”
Jason swore under his breath.
Melissa glared at me as if I had personally invented storage fees.
“You happy now?”
“No.”
That seemed to confuse her.
She had prepared herself for triumph.
Maybe cruelty.
Not exhaustion.
“Well, you got what you wanted.”
“I wanted you to cancel the truck yesterday.”
“You knew we had nowhere else.”
“I knew you told me that.”
“What does that mean?”
Jason looked at the floor.
It was tiny.
Barely anything.
But I saw it.
“So there is somewhere else,” I said.
Melissa’s head snapped toward him.
“Don’t.”
Jason’s jaw tightened.
“Melissa.”
“Don’t you dare.”
My mother looked between them.
“What are you talking about?”
The children were still inside the van.
The truck driver checked his phone.
A woman in running clothes came through the lobby carrying coffee and slowed when she saw us before deciding very firmly that she had somewhere else to look.
Jason spoke without meeting Melissa’s eyes.
“My brother said we could stay in Renton.”
Melissa folded her arms.
“Your brother has two dogs.”
“He has a basement.”
“It smells like mildew.”
“It doesn’t smell like mildew.”
“It absolutely does.”
My mother blinked.
“You had another place?”
“It’s not suitable,” Melissa said.
The phrase hit me so precisely that I almost looked at Mom.
Her house wasn’t suitable.
Jason’s brother’s basement wasn’t suitable.
Apparently suitability meant somewhere other than the place belonging to the person least likely to fight back.
“How long has that been an option?” I asked.
Melissa ignored me.
Jason answered.
“Since last week.”
A strange calm moved through me.
Not relief.
Something colder.
“You knew.”
“It wasn’t really an option.”
“It has walls?”
Jason gave me a tired look.
“Yes.”
“Heat?”
“Yes.”
“Bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Then it sounds more like an option than my condo.”
“Emily,” Mom warned.
I turned toward her.
“What?”
She opened her mouth and stopped.
For once, I genuinely wanted to know what correction she had prepared.
Maybe she could not find one that survived the facts standing around us.
Melissa did.
“You have no idea what it’s like getting four kids to school from Renton.”
There it was.
Not homelessness.
Commute.
The crisis shrank without becoming harmless.
I looked through the glass at Sophie.
She had opened the van door and was stepping out.
Ben followed immediately.
Then eight-year-old Noah and ten-year-old Grace.
Melissa saw them and waved sharply.
“Stay in the car.”
“Mom, I have to pee,” Ben announced.
The security guard looked away.
Jason closed his eyes.
“Come on, buddy.”
He took Ben toward the lobby restroom after Carlos pointed down the hall.
Grace followed.
Noah remained beside the van.
Sophie came inside alone.
She was wearing an oversized purple sweatshirt and carrying a backpack with one strap over her shoulder.
Her eyes went first to me, then David, then her grandmother.
“Are we going to Aunt Emily’s or not?”
Nobody answered quickly enough.
That made it worse.
I stepped toward her.
“No, sweetheart.”
Melissa inhaled behind me.
I kept going.
“You’re not moving into my condo.”
Sophie stared at me.
“Why?”
There was no accusation in it.
That almost broke me.
“Because I’m recovering from surgery, and six more people can’t live there with me.”
“Mom said you were going to Grandma’s.”
“I’m not.”
Sophie looked at Melissa.
Melissa’s face had gone red.
“You told us Grandma already worked it out.”
“Sophie, get back in the car.”
“But you said—”
“Now.”
Sophie flinched.
I hated Melissa in that instant.
Then I hated myself for enjoying, even briefly, seeing her exposed.
Human ugliness did not become prettier because it belonged to the person who had been wronged.
“Sophie,” I said softly.
She looked at me.
“This isn’t your fault.”
Her mouth tightened.
“I know.”
She walked out.
Not toward the van.
She went around the side of the building and disappeared.
Jason came back with the younger children and saw her go.
“I’ll get her.”
Melissa started after him.
He held up one hand.
“I said I’ll get her.”
She stopped.
Something had fractured between them before they ever reached Bellevue.
I had only just begun seeing the crack.
The truck driver approached Jason.
“Sir, I need a destination.”
Jason pulled out his phone.
“Give me a minute.”
“I can give you five.”
Melissa rounded on me again.
“This is what you wanted.”
“No.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Then stop telling me what I wanted.”
“You could fix this in ten seconds.”
“And six weeks from now?”
“What?”
“What happens in six weeks?”
“We leave.”
“For where?”
She stared at me.
I had asked the question she had apparently been avoiding.
Jason, halfway through dialing, lowered his phone.
Mom’s expression changed too.
Melissa looked at him.
“We would have figured it out.”
“With what money?” he asked.
“Not now.”
“When?”
“Jason.”
“When, Mel?”
The truck driver took two steps backward.
Even he understood this had moved beyond him.
Jason’s voice remained low.
“I told you we couldn’t afford Bellevue.”
“You told me you’d look.”
“I did look.”
“You looked at garbage.”
“I looked at what we can pay.”
Mom touched Melissa’s arm.
“Sweetheart.”
Melissa pulled away.
“We are not discussing our finances in a lobby.”
That was reasonable.
Painfully reasonable.
David leaned toward me.
“Your part is finished.”
I looked at him.
He nodded toward the elevator.
“You established your position.”
May you like
I wanted to leave.
My body wanted it more.
