Chapter 10 - I Counted the Cake Roses While I Waited for Dad
Dad was gone a long time. Even with the music playing, I could hear the clock in my head ticking too loud.
Grandmother kept her hand on my shoulder. Not soft. Heavy, like she wanted people to see I was with her and behaving. We stood close to the cake table. The three tiers were so white they hurt my eyes under the lights. I started counting the roses because I didn't want to cry in front of everybody. One, two, three. The petals looked real but when I leaned a little I could tell they weren't. They didn't smell like anything except sugar.
"Stand up straight," Grandmother whispered without moving her smile. Her champagne glass was empty now. She set it down behind the cake where no one would see. "Your father will be back in a minute. Do not stare at that doorway like that."
I couldn't stop staring. From where we stood I could see clear across the ballroom past the columns to the narrow dark cut where the hallway opened up. The light in there was white and cold. Every time a server went in or out, I flinched.
I held my plastic bag tighter. The rolls inside were getting squished from me squeezing them. The bitten one was still in my other hand. I had wrapped my fingers around it so hard the soft part dented.
Grandmother looked down and saw it.
"Sweetheart," she said in that low voice grown-ups use when they're mad but don't want people to hear. "Put that away. Right now."
I shook my head before I realized I was doing it.
"People are looking," she said. "You have stains on your shirt. You can't stand next to this beautiful cake holding old bread. Put it in the bag and give it to me. I'll have someone throw it out."
My throat got tight. "No," I whispered.
Her fingers pressed a little harder on my shoulder. "Excuse me?"
I didn't want to be bad. My eyes burned. "It's Mom's," I said. I kept my voice so small only she could hear. "She said hold it."
Grandmother breathed out through her nose. For a second she didn't say anything. A couple walked past us laughing and she smiled big at them and nodded, then the smile dropped right away.
"Your mother," she said, "does not understand how things work here. This night cost a great deal of money. Your father has responsibilities. You need to behave for him."
I nodded because my chin was shaking and I thought if I moved it maybe she would think I was agreeing. I counted more roses. Four, five, six. I tried to hear Dad's shoes in the hallway but the ballroom was too loud. Glasses clinking and a man talking on a microphone about donations made my ears buzz.
"What if he can't find her?" I asked.
Grandmother's hand stopped. "He will find her. Then adults will talk. You will smile and stay quiet. Do you understand?"
I looked up at her pearl necklace. One pearl was a little different from the others, darker. I stared at that one so I wouldn't have to look at her eyes.
"I want Mom," I said.
"I know," she said, and for a half second her voice wasn't sharp. It sounded tired. Then she fixed it. "But you must let your father handle this. Don't run off. Don't cry out. Promise me."
I didn't promise. I looked back at the doorway.
A server pushed through with an empty tray. The cold white light spilled out for a moment across the gold floor, then the door swung shut. Empty. My stomach dropped.
I thought about the metal tray on the hallway floor where Dad found me. I thought about how Mom's hands were cold when she put the bag in my arms. She'd knelt down and zipped my jacket even though it was warm inside, like she knew I'd end up somewhere cold.
Hold this, she'd said. Stay right here.
I hadn't stayed. I'd slid down the wall and eaten one bite because my stomach hurt. Now the bite mark was there and I couldn't fix it.
"Grandmother?" I whispered. "Is Mom mad at me for eating it?"
She frowned. "What? No. Don't be silly."
But I wasn't sure. Grown-ups said don't be silly when they didn't want to answer.
The microphone man laughed and everybody clapped. The chandeliers shook a tiny bit. I counted the last roses. Seven, eight. There were eight on the bottom tier.
Then the hallway door opened again and didn't close.
Two shapes stood in the cold light. One tall in a black suit. One smaller beside him.
My heart beat so hard I felt it in my bitten roll hand.
Dad had his jacket off. It was around Mom's shoulders. Her hair was messed up and her cheeks were red from the cold. She was looking at the ballroom like it was too bright.
Mom was inside. She was really inside.
I took one step forward. Grandmother's hand locked on my shoulder and held me still.
May you like
"Wait," she breathed in my ear.
I clutched the bag and the roll to my chest. I wanted to scream her name across all those tables. I didn't. I stood by the cake and waited to see if Dad would look for me.
