Chương 14
“He wanted you to speak like Marcus,” Chloe said.
“I’m trying.”
“Are you going to answer people now?”
Hale glanced at the officers standing near the road.
“I have started.”
“That sounds like a general answer.”
“It probably is.”
Chloe waited.
Hale looked toward the grave.
“My son answered my call last night.”
“What did you say?”
“I asked whether I could come see him.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he would think about it.”
“That isn’t yes.”
“No.”
“Are you going to call again?”
“Not today.”
“Why?”
“Because he asked for time.”
Chloe considered this.
“That’s different from ignoring him.”
“Yes.”
Colonel Brooks came over carrying a small bakery box.
“Mrs. Coleman asked me to deliver this before she leaves.”
Inside were six oatmeal-raisin cookies.
A yellow note had been taped to the lid:
PAID INVENTORY. NO THEFT REQUIRED.
Denise read it and laughed for the first time all week.
They ate the cookies beside the cemetery parking lot.
Rebecca picked out the raisins.
Chloe caught her.
“You said he hated them.”
“He did.”
“You do too.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he eat mine?”
Rebecca looked toward the grave, then at the cookie in her hand.
“Maybe he liked you more than he hated raisins.”
Chloe decided that answer could be true without being the only answer.
The news coverage lasted another week.
Clips of Chloe’s speech appeared online, usually edited to remove the part where she admitted stealing. Commentators praised her wisdom. Others accused adults of using a grieving child. Both groups used her face as a thumbnail.
Denise hired no lawyer because lawyers required money before explaining how little they could do. Tessa submitted privacy complaints, copyright claims, and removal requests. Some worked. Most did not.
The fraudulent fundraiser was shut down. Refunds took several weeks.
A legitimate veterans’ organization offered Chloe an award. Denise declined.
General Hale asked whether Chloe wanted to attend a ceremony at an Army base. Chloe declined that too.
Mrs. Coleman named an oatmeal-raisin cookie after her anyway. Denise persuaded her to change the name from The Chloe to Room 214.
“It sounds like a haunted cookie,” Tessa said.
“That may improve sales,” Mrs. Coleman replied.
Denise returned to work after three unpaid shifts.
The lost pay meant the electric bill was late. The company charged a fee. General Hale offered assistance through an Army emergency fund, but Denise refused because she was not Army family.
Tessa paid the bill and added the amount to a notebook labeled MONEY DENISE PRETENDS SHE DOESN’T OWE ME.
“You bought three streaming subscriptions on my card last year,” Denise said.
“That was cultural enrichment.”
“You watched a dating show.”
“Anthropology.”
The hospital revised its visitor policy after an internal review. Employees could no longer bring children into clinical areas except during emergencies approved by a supervisor. Mr. Leland posted the policy in the break room and avoided Denise for two days.
On the third, he found her cleaning an empty room.
“I should have handled Saturday differently,” he said.
Denise changed the liner in the trash can.
“Yes.”
“I was under pressure.”
“So was I.”
“I’m not asking you to excuse the policy violation.”
“Good.”
He tapped his wedding ring against the doorframe.
“Communications wants to feature the new veterans’ volunteer program.”
Denise tied the trash bag.
“Then feature the veterans.”
“They thought Chloe might—”
“No.”
“I assumed.”
“That was your first mistake.”
He stopped tapping the ring.
“My first?”
Denise looked at him.
Mr. Leland cleared his throat. “I will tell them no.”
“Thank you.”
He walked away, then returned.
“For what it’s worth, my father died in a nursing home. I visited every Sunday.”
Denise waited.
“I still felt like I failed him.”
She leaned the mop against the wall.
“Did you?”
“Sometimes.”
“That is probably the answer.”
He nodded and left.
Room 214 received three patients over the next month.
The first was discharged after two days.
The second had family crowded around the bed from morning until visiting hours ended.
The third was a retired bus mechanic named Frank Donnelly who complained about everything.
Chloe learned this from Marisol, not because she had returned to the room. The new policy kept her downstairs.
Every other Saturday, while Denise worked, Chloe sat in the cafeteria with homework, a library book, and enough change to buy one damaged cookie legally.
Sometimes Marisol joined her during break.
Sometimes Colonel Brooks came in civilian clothes and drank terrible coffee without complaint.
General Hale visited once. He brought no officers and wore no medals. He sat across from Chloe and asked about fractions.
“I still hate them,” she said.
“Reasonable.”
“How’s your son?”
“He let me take him to lunch.”
“Did you talk like Marcus?”
“I tried.”
“Did he?”
“He mostly talked about his roof.”
“Was it broken?”
“Yes.”
“Did you fix it?”
“He would not let me.”
“Good.”
Hale raised an eyebrow.
“You always try to fix things with money,” Chloe said.
“That observation was unnecessary.”
“Mr. Arthur said unnecessary things were sometimes the useful ones.”
Hale stirred his coffee.
“Rebecca has asked me to help catalog her father’s military papers.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you answer when she calls?”
“Yes.”
“Every time?”
“No.”
Chloe stared.
“Sometimes I am in meetings,” he said. “Then I call back.”
“That is allowed.”
“I’m glad.”
Rebecca and Noah came to the apartment twice.
The first visit was awkward.
Rebecca brought the repaired flag in its old wooden case and hung it on the wall above Denise’s dining table long enough for Chloe to see how it looked. Then she took it home.
Noah taught Chloe a card game Mr. Arthur had taught him. Halfway through, Rebecca accused Noah of changing the rules.
“He changed them too,” Noah said.
“That does not make it legal.”
“There are no poker police.”
“Your mother is the poker police,” Chloe said.
Denise brought out eggs because she had forgotten to buy anything for dinner.
May you like
They burned along the edges.
The second visit was easier.
