Chapter 12
Mark texted me when he turned onto Diane's street. I stayed in the car with Ellie at the gas station two blocks over, the way the sheriff's deputy had suggested. Don't go inside together, he'd said. Keep it clean.
I watched Mark's location dot move on my phone and listened to Ellie breathe in her car seat. Her head was covered in the soft cotton cap the pediatric nurse had given us. The bag on the floor at my feet was empty and waiting.
"He's there now," I said. Ellie didn't answer. She was holding the small plastic dinosaur from the urgent care.
Mark had his phone on speaker in his pocket so I could hear. I heard his shoes on the porch boards. I heard the doorbell.
Diane opened the door before he could knock a second time.
"Mark," she said. Her voice was flat.
"Mom. I'm here for Ellie's things," he said. I could hear the hallway behind her, the dark wood floor I had stared at for three days straight.
"You didn't need to make this a production," Diane said. "She needed discipline. You said yourself she was being difficult. Hair grows back."
Mark didn't answer right away. I heard him breathe.
"The doctor said the cuts needed documenting. The sheriff and CPS said we need the clippers and her clothes," he said. His voice was quieter than hers. "I'm not here to fight. I'm just here to get her stuff so we can follow what they told us to do."
I heard Diane shift. The clippers buzzed for half a second then stopped, like she'd picked them up off the entry table where she'd left them.
"I cleaned her up," Diane said. "I didn't hurt her. You both are acting like I did something terrible. Your father would have understood."
Mark said, "Mom, please set the clippers down."
There was a pause. I gripped the phone tighter. Ellie looked up at me.
"I'm not giving you my property because you let Lauren get hysterical," Diane said. "You told me to handle it. You said Grandma knows best. That's what Ellie said, because that's what you told her."
"I shouldn't have said that," Mark said. "I left you in charge and I shouldn't have. That's on me. But the clippers cut her scalp. We need to bring them in. CPS asked for them."
I heard the hallway creak as he stepped just inside the doorway. He didn't go further.
"I'll bag them," he said. "I brought a bag."
I heard plastic rustle. The deputy had told Mark not to wipe them, to put them straight in a zip bag the way they were.
"You really going to take pictures of my house now?" Diane said, sharper.
"The deputy said to," Mark said. I heard his camera shutter. Once, twice. "Just the hallway and the doorway where it happened. For the report."
"So you're siding with her."
"I'm siding with Ellie," Mark said. He kept his voice level. "I'm putting the hair from the trash can in here too. And the purple shirt she had underneath. Is that everything she wore that morning?"
Diane didn't answer for a few seconds. I heard a drawer open and close.
"There. On the chair," she said. "Her other clothes are folded. I washed them."
"Thank you," Mark said. More rustling. "I'm leaving this note on the table. It's not from me. It's what the sheriff and CPS said we have to follow. No unsupervised visits until they clear it. That includes pick-ups from daycare. Lauren and I will do all the transfers."
He read it out loud so I could hear it and so she couldn't say she didn't get it. No unsupervised contact with Ellie pending review. All visits supervised by a parent. Contact through Mark's phone only.
"This is my house," Diane said. "You don't get to tell me when I can see my granddaughter."
"We're not keeping her from you forever," Mark said. "We are following the plan. If you want to see her, it will be at our apartment with one of us in the room. That's what they wrote down."
I heard paper set down. I heard the zip bag seal.
"Are you going to talk to me about this or just take and leave?" Diane asked.
"We can talk later with the caseworker," Mark said. "Right now I need to get this to Lauren and the investigator."
Footsteps on wood, then back onto the porch. The door closed behind him but not slammed. I heard outside air on the phone.
"Got it?" I whispered.
"Got it," Mark said, out of breath. "Clippers in the bag, hair in a second bag, her little pants and the other shirt, photos done, note left on the entry table. She didn't touch me. She didn't stop me."
He walked fast back to his car. I started our car. We met back at the gas station parking lot.
Mark put the two sealed bags on my passenger seat without opening them. The black clippers were inside the first bag, silver blade dull with fine dark hair still caught around the edge. The second bag held a clump of Ellie's dark hair and the purple t-shirt. His phone showed three photos of the hallway, the white door open, the dark floor where I'd stood holding Ellie.
Diane had stood in that doorway holding those clippers at chest height. Now the doorway was empty in the picture.
Mark looked at Ellie in the back seat, then at me.
"It's in your custody now," he said. "For the investigator tomorrow."
May you like
I zipped the tote closed and put it at my feet. Ellie reached forward and touched the outside of the bag once, then pulled her hand back.
Diane's house was still there two blocks away, porch light on in the daylight, but it wasn't blocking us anymore.
