Chapter 12 - The Stand by the Sink
I was sitting on the bath mat that night while Dad washed my legs with a washcloth. I wasn't in the tub. I hadn't been in the tub since the hurt night. The white tub was empty and dry behind me, and my arm with the white wrap stayed tucked close so it would not get wet.
My name is Ellie. I was four. That evening is the one where Dad cleaned and cleaned.
He had the little plastic tub from the kitchen on the floor with warm water in it. He tested it first on the inside of his arm. He did that now every time. Then he squeezed the cloth and wiped my feet.
"You okay, bug?" he said.
I nodded. I held my bear against my good side. The bear's ear was damp from the steam.
Vanessa was in the hallway folding towels. I could hear the dryer buzz and her pulling them out warm.
Dad reached up to wipe the sink. There was still a white ring where the soap had sat. He moved the cup with the toothbrushes. Then he stopped.
By the faucet there was a little black stand. I knew that stand. It held Vanessa's phone up so she could watch while she did stuff. She watched cooking videos on it and sometimes shows with talking.
Dad picked it up. He looked at it a long time. The suction cup on the bottom made a soft pop when he pulled it off the sink.
"Vanessa?" he called. His voice wasn't loud.
She came to the doorway with a towel in her hands. Her hair was pulled back. "What?"
"Was this here that night?" he asked.
She looked at the stand in his hand. She swallowed. "I keep it in here, yeah."
Dad put the stand down. He dried his hands on his pants. Then he took his own phone out of his pocket. He didn't look at me when he asked the next part.
"Can I see your call log? From that evening. I just want to check something."
Vanessa went still. I saw her fingers tighten on the towel. "Why?"
"Please," Dad said. He waited a beat. "I'm not trying to start a fight."
She left and came back with her phone. She held it out without unlocking it, and he unlocked it for her because he knew the code. I watched his thumb move.
He scrolled. He stopped scrolling. He stared.
"Six forty-two," he said quietly. "Twenty-three minutes."
Vanessa didn't answer right away. The bathroom felt too warm. The little tub water made small lines when my feet moved.
"I answered it," she said finally. "Your sister called. I thought — I had already started the water. I thought it was okay. I tested it with my hand really quick."
Dad looked up at her. His tie was off that night and his sleeves were pushed up. His watch caught the light.
"You left her to talk?" he said. His voice stayed low, but his jaw moved.
"I was right there," Vanessa said. "I was right in the doorway. I could hear her. I thought the water was okay. The heater — you said yourself it spikes."
I didn't understand all the numbers. I knew twenty-three was big. Longer than a cartoon song.
Dad set both phones down on the closed toilet lid, careful, like they might break. He breathed in through his nose.
"So it was hot and it got hotter and nobody checked again," he said. More to himself than to her.
Vanessa's eyes went shiny. "I didn't mean — I never thought —"
"I'm not saying you meant it," Dad said fast. He glanced at me. "I need you to hear me. I'm not saying that."
He knelt back down by my little tub. The water had gone a little cool. He felt it and added a cup of warm from the sink that he tested first.
"You doing okay?" he asked me again.
I nodded, but I was watching Vanessa. She said sorry. She said it twice in a small voice, once to Dad and once toward me.
"I'm sorry, Ellie."
I didn't know what sorry fixed. My arm still had the white wrap that itched at the edge. I held my bear tighter.
Dad squeezed my hand with his wet hand. His watch was cold on my skin.
Later when he carried me to the hallway, I heard him tell Vanessa, "We can't do phones in here anymore. No calls. No videos. Water first, hand check, then her. Every time."
May you like
She nodded and looked down at the towel she was still holding. She didn't argue.
I didn't understand about spikes and logs. I just knew the black stand was gone from the sink when we left the bathroom, and Dad put it up high in the hall closet where I couldn't see it.
