Chapter 8 - Under the Shade Tree
The stares didn't stop after Brook walked off toward the cake table. If anything, they got heavier. I could feel them on the back of my neck as I led Emma away from the middle of the yard.
I didn't go far. Just to the left, under the big maple by the fence where the shade cut the heat. The grass was cooler there, a little damp. The bounce house squeaked behind us. Somebody laughed too loud near the coolers, trying to restart the party.
Emma stayed pressed against my side. Her hand was sweaty in mine.
One of the older guys — gray shirt, sunglasses pushed up on his head — came over with a little paper cup of apple juice. He meant well. He bent down a bit and held it out.
"Hey, sweetie. Want some juice? It's cold."
Emma didn't look at the cup. She stepped behind my legs and grabbed the back of my khakis with her free hand. Her ponytail brushed my knee. She shook her head once, hard, into my leg.
I took the cup so he wouldn't feel awkward. "Thanks. I've got her."
He nodded and backed off. I set the cup down in the grass and didn't push it on her. The last thing she needed was one more adult telling her what to do with her mouth.
For a minute I just stood there with her behind me. I could feel her breathing fast against my calf. Short little breaths. Her fingers were twisted in my pants.
I crouched down slowly so I wasn't towering over her. The shade moved across her face. Her eyes were watery but she wasn't crying. She was holding it in, the way she'd learned to do when she didn't want people to look more.
I didn't ask what happened. I didn't ask about the cake or who was where. I'd asked enough questions in the last ten minutes for both of us.
Instead I did what we did at home when thunderstorms knocked the power out. I put my hand flat on my own chest where she could see it.
I breathed in through my nose. Counted. Let it out slow.
"In," I said quietly. "Out."
She watched my hand rise and fall. She didn't copy me at first. She just stared.
I did it again. "In. Out."
On the third one, her shoulders moved a little with mine. Not much. But it was there. Her grip on my pants loosened just enough that my khakis fell straight again.
We stayed like that while a kid screamed going down the bounce house slide. A plastic fork clattered somewhere by the cake table. Brook's voice rose and fell, tight, talking to someone I couldn't see.
Emma glanced toward the sound and then quickly back at the grass. She stepped closer until her forehead almost touched my shoulder.
"Daddy," she whispered. So quiet I had to lean in.
"Yeah, baby. I'm right here."
She paused. Her breath caught. "Is Aunt Brook mad forever?"
The question hit harder than anything Brook had said to my face. I kept my voice low and steady. I didn't look over at Brook.
"No," I said. "She's upset about the party. That's not forever."
Emma didn't answer. Her fingers found my hand again and squeezed.
"Are you scared?" I asked.
She nodded, just once, her chin digging into my shirt sleeve.
I shifted so we were knee to knee in the shade. The bark of the maple was rough behind my back. Ants moved in a line near my shoe. I ignored them.
"Listen to me," I said. "I believe you."
Her eyes flicked up. Watery, searching.
"I believe you until I see proof different," I said. "That's my job. Okay? That's the deal. You tell me the truth, and I don't trade you for keeping things calm."
She swallowed. "Promise?"
"I promise."
I held out my pinky. It looked ridiculous, my big hand there in the grass, but she hooked her tiny pinky around mine and held on. That was our thing since she was three. Pinky meant it counted more than words.
We sat there another minute just breathing. In. Out. The tension in her shoulders eased by degrees. She leaned her weight against my arm.
Across the yard, near the bounce house net, I could see Maya in her pink dress. She was alone now, kicking at the grass, glancing over at us and then away quick when our eyes met.
I nodded that way. "See Maya over there?"
Emma peeked around my arm. She nodded.
"Would you stay near her for a bit?" I said. "Not to talk about anything. Just to play. You don't have to be in the middle where everybody's looking."
Emma thought about it. She looked at the sunny center of the yard, then back at the edge where Maya stood half in shadow.
"She won't be mad at me?" she whispered.
"No," I said. "Just stay where I can see you. I'll be right here by the tree."
May you like
She was quiet a long second. Then she nodded and stood up, still holding my hand until the last possible stretch before she had to let go to walk.
She didn't take the juice. She left it sitting in the grass sweating through the paper. That was fine. She walked toward Maya on her own feet, and that was enough for right then.
