Chương 6
“In theory.”
I almost laughed.
She placed it on the counter.
“We’re putting an emergency safety plan in place for tonight.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“Lily can discharge to you.”
Relief came first.
Then suspicion.
“And Taylor?”
“He cannot pick her up tonight.”
“Tonight.”
Mara nodded.
“What happens tomorrow?”
“We file for further restrictions based on the investigation.”
“Restrictions are not the same as custody.”
“No.”
“So he can fight it.”
“Yes.”
My jaw tightened.
“He will.”
“Probably.”
“You say that like you’ve met him.”
“I’ve met frightened parents with lawyers.”
“He’s not frightened.”
Mara looked at me for a long moment.
“Everyone in these situations is frightened of something.”
That irritated me because it sounded compassionate toward him.
She seemed to notice.
“Fear doesn’t excuse behavior.”
I looked away.
A television commercial flashed silently across the room.
Somebody in a bright kitchen was smiling at a blender.
“Does Taylor know she’s leaving with me?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“That he objects.”
“Of course.”
“He also says your work schedule makes you an unstable primary caregiver.”
I laughed before I could stop myself.
Mara raised one eyebrow.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t sound sorry.”
“He spent ten years complaining that I worked too much and another two years telling everyone he admired my career.”
“People contain contradictions.”
“He contains lawyers.”
“That too.”
“What else did he say?”
“He says you’re using this incident to alter custody.”
My mouth went dry.
“Incident.”
“That was his word.”
I looked at Lily.
“Did he ask how she was?”
Mara did not answer immediately.
That was enough.
I nodded.
“Right.”
“He asked whether she was medically stable.”
“When?”
“After several other questions.”
I looked at Mara.
“Thank you for not cleaning that up.”
“I’m not here to protect your opinion of him.”
“No.”
“You should also know he made allegations about you.”
That got my attention.
“What kind?”
“He says you have a temper.”
“I do.”
“He says you intimidate people.”
“Sometimes.”
“He says Lily is afraid of disappointing you.”
The words found a deeper place.
I folded my arms.
“Is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m asking what he said.”
“He gave examples.”
“Such as?”
“He says you make Lily repeat tasks until they’re done correctly.”
I almost objected.
Then I remembered tying shoes.
Making beds.
Math worksheets.
Setting the table.
“Sometimes.”
“He says you become rigid under stress.”
“That’s fair.”
Mara watched me.
“You’re not going to argue?”
“Would it help?”
“No.”
“Then why pretend?”
“Because most people do.”
“I’m not most people.”
“That sentence is usually said by people who are exactly like most people.”
This time I did smile.
Barely.
Then it disappeared.
“Did he accuse me of hurting her?”
“No.”
“Neglect?”
“No.”
“Drinking?”
“No.”
“Drugs?”
“No.”
“Then he’s building a character argument.”
“That’s how it sounds.”
“He’ll say I’m emotionally harsh.”
“He might.”
“He’ll say I care more about control than parenting.”
Mara did not respond.
That bothered me.
“You think he’s right.”
“I think you’re trying to recruit me into taking sides before I have enough information.”
“I already know which side I’m on.”
“Yes.”
She looked toward Lily.
“So do I.”
That quieted me.
A few minutes later, Lily stirred.
Her eyes opened halfway.
“Mom?”
“I’m here.”
“Can we go?”
“Soon.”
She looked at Mara.
“Who’s that?”
Mara moved closer but stayed several feet from the bed.
“I’m Mara.”
“Are you police?”
“No.”
“Doctor?”
“No.”
“Then what are you?”
Mara smiled.
“Mostly paperwork.”
Lily looked at me.
“I don’t think that’s a job.”
“It shouldn’t be,” Mara said.
Lily seemed to approve of her after that.
The physician discharged her shortly after two.
We were given instructions, follow-up information, and a paper bag containing Lily’s damp clothes sealed inside another plastic bag.
A nurse brought her small hospital socks because her own were wet.
They had rubber paw prints on the bottoms.
Lily stared at them.
“I look like a toddler.”
“You look dangerous.”
“They’re purple.”
“Especially dangerous.”
She rolled her eyes.
That tiny normal gesture nearly undid me.
Mara walked us to the exit.
The hospital lobby was nearly empty.
A man slept folded over two chairs near the vending machines.
A woman in scrubs stood by the entrance eating chips from a paper cup.
Outside, the night air felt brutally cold after the heated corridors.
Lily stopped.
I immediately pulled my coat tighter around her.
“I’m okay,” she said.
“You’re cold.”
“I’m outside.”
“Same problem.”
My rental apartment was twenty minutes away.
Mara had arranged for a patrol officer to follow us because Taylor’s whereabouts were temporarily uncertain.
I hated that sentence.
Uncertain.
It implied too many possibilities.
Lily fell asleep before we cleared the hospital parking lot.
Her head rested against the passenger-side door until I pulled over and moved her to the back seat.
She woke just enough to complain.
“I’m not a baby.”
“Seat position.”
“You carried me.”
“Medical exception.”
“You always make up rules.”
“I learned from the federal government.”
She fell asleep again before I finished buckling her.
My apartment was on the second floor of a beige complex that looked like every temporary place occupied by people between lives.
The hallway smelled faintly of someone’s burned popcorn.
I carried Lily upstairs.
Her weight pulled at my shoulder.
She had gotten too old to carry comfortably and was still young enough to expect it when the world went wrong.
Inside, I laid her on my bed.
I had bought a twin bed for her room, but she had slept there only four times.
Tonight I could not put a wall between us.
I removed the purple hospital socks and checked her toes exactly as the discharge instructions said.
She did not wake.
I sat beside her until my phone buzzed.
It was Ortega.
I stepped into the kitchen.
“Tell me.”
“We have the recorder.”
I gripped the edge of the counter.
“Was it in Dean’s truck?”
“Not exactly.”
May you like
“What does that mean?”
“Harlow found it months ago when he cleaned under the rear seat.”
