Chương 4
“Has Grandma hurt you before?”
Emma shook her head.
Then stopped.
Claire noticed.
“Emma?”
“I don’t know.”
The nurse practitioner lowered herself onto the rolling stool.
“You’re not in trouble. You can take your time.”
Emma stared at the paper covering the exam table.
“She squeezes.”
“Where?”
“My arm sometimes.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“When?”
“When I’m rude.”
“What does rude mean?”
Emma looked embarrassed.
“When I don’t answer fast.”
Daniel turned away.
The nurse practitioner asked to see her arms.
There were no current bruises.
“Anything else?”
Emma hesitated.
“She says stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“That Mom makes Dad tired.”
Claire’s face went hot.
Daniel looked at her.
Emma continued, still staring down.
“She says Dad would have more money if Mom didn’t buy things.”
Claire almost interrupted.
The absurdity of it made the words rise automatically. Claire handled most household bills. She earned more than Daniel did. The colored hair extensions Emma had asked about cost less than Margaret’s monthly salon visits.
None of that mattered.
The nurse practitioner was watching Emma, not Claire.
“What else does she say?”
Emma rubbed her thumb against the seam of her jeans.
“That Dad gets headaches because Mom argues.”
Daniel whispered, “Jesus.”
The nurse practitioner glanced at him.
He nodded an apology.
Emma said, “And she said sometimes dads leave because moms make everything hard.”
Claire stopped breathing for a moment.
Daniel stood abruptly.
The paper on his chair crinkled.
“I need—”
He pointed toward the hallway and left.
Emma watched him go.
“Is Dad mad?”
“No,” Claire said.
It was not entirely true.
“He’s upset.”
“At me?”
“No.”
That answer came without hesitation.
The nurse practitioner finished the exam. Because the injury involved a child and an intentional act by a caregiver, she explained that the clinic had reporting obligations. She did not dramatize it. She did not promise police would arrive or Margaret would be arrested. She said a report would be made and someone might follow up.
Claire felt oddly relieved by the bureaucracy of it.
A form.
A procedure.
Something larger than Margaret’s opinion.
When they stepped back into the hallway, Daniel was leaning against a vending machine.
His eyes were red, though he had not been crying.
Emma walked past Claire and stood in front of him.
“Are you mad?”
Daniel crouched.
“No.”
“You left.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
He looked at Claire once, then back at Emma.
“Because I was afraid I was going to say something bad in front of you.”
Emma considered this.
“About Grandma?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
She leaned against him.
Daniel wrapped both arms around her.
His eyes closed over her shoulder.
Claire looked away to give them something like privacy.
Near the nurses’ station, a man in work boots was arguing quietly with someone on the phone about a prescription. A toddler dragged a plastic chair two feet across the floor before his exhausted mother stopped him. Someone opened a bag of pretzels.
Life continued.
Claire suddenly wanted coffee.
Not good coffee. Not meaningful coffee.
Just something hot enough to hold.
On the drive home, Daniel asked if they should stop somewhere.
Emma said, “Can we not?”
So they went straight back.
Margaret’s car was gone.
Her purse was gone too.
On the kitchen counter sat a note in her handwriting.
Claire saw Daniel read the first line and fold it immediately.
“What does it say?” she asked.
“Nothing useful.”
“Daniel.”
He gave her the page.
I hope when everyone calms down, you will remember who has always been there for this family. Claire’s behavior today was violent and unacceptable. I will not discuss anything further while she is present.
Claire finished reading.
“Convenient.”
Daniel took the note back.
“She texted me too.”
“Show me.”
He hesitated.
That hesitation reopened every nerve Claire had managed to numb during the drive.
“What?”
“It’s not—”
“Show me.”
He unlocked his phone.
Margaret had sent six messages.
The first arrived nine minutes after they left.
You need to get Emma away from Claire until she settles down.
Then:
She shaved my hair intentionally.
Then:
I am concerned about what she may do next.
Then:
You know I have warned you about her temper.
Then:
If you are smart you will document everything.
The final message read:
Call me without her.
Claire handed the phone back.
“She had Emma cornered in a bedroom with clippers, and within ten minutes she was building a case against me.”
Daniel rubbed his face.
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“I said I know.”
“You still sound surprised.”
“I am surprised.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s my mother.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have right now.”
Emma stood near the refrigerator listening.
Claire saw her and stopped.
“Go pick something to watch, Em.”
“I’m not little.”
“I know.”
“You’re sending me away.”
Claire closed her mouth.
Emma was right.
Daniel said, “Stay.”
Claire looked at him.
He pulled out a kitchen chair.
“You don’t have to hear everything, but we shouldn’t whisper like you did something wrong.”
Emma climbed onto the chair.
She sat with one foot tucked under her.
Claire opened the refrigerator.
The milk was almost empty. A container of strawberries had gone soft. There were leftovers from Thursday that no one was going to eat.
She shut the door.
“What do you want?”
Emma shrugged.
“Toast?”
Another shrug.
Claire made toast.
It was the most ordinary thing she had done all day, and her hands shook so badly she dropped a butter knife.
Emma watched it hit the floor.
“Mom?”
“I’m okay.”
Emma looked skeptical.
Claire bent to retrieve the knife.
“No, actually, I’m not. But I’m going to be.”
Daniel stared at her.
Claire rinsed the knife.
It occurred to her that she was tired of telling Emma adults were okay when they visibly were not.
She put fresh butter on the toast and added cinnamon because Emma liked it that way.
May you like
Daniel sat across from his daughter.
“Can I ask you something?”
