Chương 5
Nora had warned her not to make Mia’s life suddenly smaller.
“Yes,” Laura said. “You have spelling.”
“I didn’t study.”
“We’ll study in the morning.”
“I’ll fail.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know.”
“No,” Laura admitted. “I don’t.”
Mia seemed relieved by the answer.
At bedtime, she asked Laura to check the window lock twice.
Emily’s guest room had pale curtains and a wooden dresser with one drawer that stuck. Laura lay beside Mia until the child’s breathing slowed. A distant lawn mower started somewhere in the neighborhood, absurdly late. It ran for five minutes and stopped.
Mia opened her eyes.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Did Dad lie?”
Laura stared at the ceiling.
Some answers changed depending on what a court could prove. This one did not.
“Yes.”
“About Canada?”
“Yes.”
“About you being sick?”
“I was sick once.”
“Are you still?”
“Not the way he means.”
Mia rolled onto her side. “He said judges believe paperwork.”
Laura touched the blanket near Mia’s hand. “Judges look at lots of things.”
“He said paper doesn’t cry.”
The words were so specifically Daniel that Laura felt him in the room.
“What else did he say?”
Mia shut her eyes.
Laura waited.
“I’m tired.”
“All right.”
“You’re asking like the lady at court.”
Laura pulled her hand back.
“I’m sorry.”
“You said you weren’t mad at me.”
“I’m not.”
“But you keep needing more.”
Laura sat in the dark for a long time after Mia fell asleep.
In the morning, she found four missed calls from her mother and one message from an unknown number.
Laura, this is Rebecca. Please don’t let people turn one stupid conversation into something it wasn’t. Daniel was scared. You know how he talks when he’s scared.
Laura read it twice.
Then she forwarded it to Nora without answering.
Margaret arrived at nine with a bag of bagels and a face already arranged for concern.
Mia was at the table writing spelling words. She spelled “separate” with three e’s and became angry when Laura corrected her.
Margaret kissed the top of Mia’s head. “You look tired, honey.”
“She had a long day,” Laura said.
“We all did.”
Emily, standing at the sink, turned off the faucet.
Margaret placed the bagels on the counter. “Daniel called me.”
“Of course he did,” Emily said.
“He is very upset.”
“He tried to take Mia to another country.”
“He says that is not true.”
Laura asked, “Did you give him Mia’s birth certificate?”
Margaret looked at her.
The pause was enough.
“When?” Laura asked.
“A few weeks ago.”
Emily swore under her breath.
Margaret lowered her voice. “He said the school needed a certified copy for an enrichment program.”
“What program?”
“I don’t know. Something international.”
“And you didn’t call me?”
“You two have made it impossible to know what I’m allowed to do.”
Laura felt the old temptation to soothe her mother. It came automatically, like reaching for a light switch in a familiar room.
She resisted.
“Did you give him anything else?”
“He asked whether I had a copy of Mia’s Social Security card.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did he ask you to sign anything?”
Margaret looked toward Mia.
Laura said, “Emily, take Mia upstairs.”
“I’m doing spelling,” Mia protested.
“You can finish in a minute.”
“I always have to leave when it’s about me.”
Nobody answered.
Mia shoved her pencil into the cup hard enough to snap the lead. Then she followed Emily from the room.
Margaret whispered, “This is what I mean. Everyone is emotional.”
“What did you sign?”
“It was not important.”
“What?”
“A statement.”
Laura’s pulse began beating in her throat.
“What statement?”
“That Daniel has always been the more consistent parent.”
The kitchen became silent except for the refrigerator motor.
Margaret touched the handles of her purse. “He said it was for mediation. He said nobody wanted a trial.”
“Did you believe it?”
“I believed you were struggling.”
“I asked whether you believed the statement.”
Margaret looked down. “Sometimes.”
The answer hurt less than the delay before it.
Laura pulled out a chair and sat.
Her mother continued quickly. “You were missing appointments. You were forgetting things. You called me crying from the grocery store because you couldn’t find your car.”
“That was two years ago.”
“You still get overwhelmed.”
“So do you.”
“That is different.”
“How?”
Margaret’s face changed. Not much. Her lips thinned, and her eyes took on the wounded look that had ended hundreds of conversations.
“I came here to help.”
“You helped him build a case against me.”
“I did not know about Canada.”
“You didn’t ask what he wanted the birth certificate for.”
“He is Mia’s father.”
“And I’m her mother.”
“Nobody said you weren’t.”
“Daniel did. He just used better words.”
Margaret picked up her purse. “I will not be spoken to this way.”
Emily reentered the kitchen. “Then today is going to be difficult for you.”
“Stay out of this.”
“It happened in my house.”
“It happens in every house you’re in because you like conflict.”
Emily laughed once. “And there she is.”
Laura stood. “Mom, Nora will need a copy of what you signed.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Then write down everything you remember. When he asked, where you were, what he said, whether anyone witnessed it.”
Margaret stared at her as if Laura had become someone impolite and unfamiliar.
“I’m not testifying against Daniel.”
“You already testified against me.”
Margaret left the bagels behind.
Mia came down several minutes later. She looked at the front door, then at Laura.
“Grandma forgot her food.”
“She left it for us.”
“Is she mad?”
“Yes.”
“At me?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
Laura pulled out the chair beside her. “Sit down. Let’s finish separate.”
Mia stared at the broken pencil.
May you like
“I hate that word.”
The forensic examiner needed six business days to make the initial copy of the phone. During those six days, the court appointed a child representative named Marisol Kent, Daniel retained a second attorney to advise him about possible criminal exposure, and Laura discovered that the blue folder from the lockbox was not the only thing missing.
