Chapter 2: Nobody Move
The words had just left my mouth and the dining room went too quiet. My dad was still standing at the head of the table, his hand resting on the back of his chair so hard his knuckles had gone white. The lamp behind him threw warm light across his face and I could see him breathing, slow and shallow, his navy shirt moving just a little with each breath. His top button was still undone and his eyes stayed on me.
Vanessa hadn't moved from her side of the table either. Her hands were flat on the woven placemat in front of her, next to the cut-glass goblet that hadn't been touched. Her cream blouse caught the light at the shoulders where it gathered. She was looking at my dad, not at me, and her mouth was pressed into a tight line like she was trying to hold something in.
Dad's voice came out quiet at first.
"The camera?" he said.
It wasn't really a question for me. He was repeating what I'd said, like he needed to hear it again to believe I'd said it at all. My bunny was damp where I'd been clutching it against my chest. The pink ribbon had twisted around my fingers and I couldn't let go. I nodded once. I didn't trust my voice yet.
He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. The case made a soft scrape against the fabric. He didn't look down right away. He looked at both of us.
"Nobody move, I'm checking it right now," he said.
He said it calm and flat, but there was no room in it. That was his dad voice, the one he used when I'd run toward the parking lot without looking. Vanessa's head snapped toward him.
He thumbed his phone awake. The screen lit up his chin and the stubble on his jaw. I could hear the little tap tap as he swiped and typed in his code. He held the phone up a little, angled away from Vanessa, and opened the camera app. The app made that soft chime it always made when it loaded, and then the spinning wheel showed up while it tried to connect to the laundry room.
Vanessa pushed her chair back half an inch. Not enough to stand, just enough that the legs scraped against the wood floor. She lifted her hands, palms out, the way she did when she wanted to seem reasonable.
"Wait, you don't need to back," she said. Her voice was higher than usual and fast. "She's four. She's confused. It was two minutes. I was just trying to get her to calm down before dinner."
She didn't look at me when she said it. She kept her eyes on my dad's face, on his phone. She rose just a little, her weight shifting forward like she was going to come around the table toward him.
I stayed where I was. I didn't move because he'd said not to, and because if I moved I thought I would start crying again and he wouldn't be able to hear the camera loading. My dress felt stuck to the back of my legs where I'd been sitting. The bunny's ears were bunched in my fists. I held it tighter and tried to breathe through my nose so he wouldn't hear me sniffle. The air in the dining room smelled like the chicken still sitting on the plates and the lemon cleaner from the placemats.
Dad didn't look up from his phone. The wheel was still spinning. The warm light from the lamp made a glare on the screen and he tilted it to see better.
He took one step toward the hallway threshold, putting himself between Vanessa and the doorway that led past the kitchen to the laundry room. It wasn't a big move, but it blocked her. His shoulder was toward her now, his body angled to keep the phone out of her reach.
"I said wait here," he said.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. Vanessa stopped with her hands still half up. She lowered herself back down onto the edge of her chair, but she didn't push it back in. Her eyes flicked to me for the first time and then away again. I could see her breathing too, quick and shallow.
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Dad's thumb hovered over the screen, waiting for the feed to connect. The little wheel kept turning and under it said laundry room - connecting. The house was so quiet I could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and the tick of the clock in the hallway.
I didn't move. I sat at the dark wood table with the fork and knife still lined up on either side of my plate and the goblet sweating a little ring onto the placemat, and I held my bunny against my chest so tight my arms started to ache. I watched my dad's face in the phone light, waiting for the picture to come through, and I watched Vanessa watching him, her hands now gripping the edge of the table like she was holding herself in place.
