Chapter 2
I didn't say it loud. I said it once and I meant it.
"Move."
My voice came out flat and low. Ellie flinched against my shoulder and tucked her head harder into my neck. I could feel her scalp against my collarbone, that unfamiliar stubble and the tackiness where she'd been cut. Her breathing was still hitched from crying.
Diane didn't move.
She stood in the exact center of the white paneled door, her short wavy gray hair not moving at all, teal polo buttoned to the top. The black clippers were still at chest height in her right hand, silver blade catching the daylight from behind her. Her expression didn't change. Not angry, not sorry. Just set. Like she'd been waiting for me to say something like that and had already decided it wouldn't matter.
For a second I thought she would lift the clippers. She didn't. She just tightened her fingers around them and held her ground. The hallway behind me was dark, the dark wood floor cold under my socks. In front of her the porch was bright, overcast and even, the green lawn almost too bright after the inside light.
I shifted Ellie higher on my hip. My left hand was under her bottom, my wedding ring pressed into the purple of her t-shirt, her little legs wrapped around my waist. My other hand was free. I took a step forward.
The toe of my sock hit the threshold strip. Diane's eyes flicked down to Ellie, then back to me.
"I said we're leaving," I told her, quieter this time. Not asking.
She let out a breath through her nose. Her mouth stayed closed. Then she gave ground - not really a step back, just a half-step to the side, her shoulder turning toward the doorframe, her hip clearing maybe six inches of space. Enough to say she wasn't blocking me, enough to say she still could.
It was all she would give me.
I didn't wait for more. I turned my shoulder to slip past her. As I did, the side of my arm brushed the front of her teal shirt. The clippers were right there, inches from Ellie's shaved head. I pulled Ellie tighter and angled her away. The silver knob of the open door was cold where my elbow grazed it.
Then I was outside.
The air hit me - cool, damp, that smell of cut grass and rain coming. The porch boards were dry under my feet but the light was everywhere, soft and overcast, no shadows. The lawn stretched out green to the sidewalk, the trees beyond still. My eyes adjusted. For a second I just stood on the porch with Ellie clamped to me, breathing that outside air like we'd actually gotten somewhere.
Diane followed me to the threshold. She didn't follow me onto the porch boards. She stopped with her toes right on the line where the dark wood inside met the porch, one hand still holding the clippers at her side now. She watched.
I didn't look back at her. I went down the one step to the walkway and toward the driveway.
Our car was on the right side of the driveway, the silver sedan I'd parked that morning nose-in. It felt very far. Ellie bounced a little with each of my steps, her bald head bobbing against my gray t-shirt, the nicks near her ear visible even from the side - little red lines with dried blood at the edges. Her arms were around my neck now, both of them, her cheek wet against my skin.
Mrs. Henderson from next door was out by her mailbox in a pink cardigan. She looked over when she heard my feet on the concrete. Her eyes went to Ellie and she did a visible double take - at the shaved head, the purple shirt, the way Ellie was clinging.
I didn't stop. I gave her a quick, tight nod and kept walking. I could feel her staring as I passed.
At the car I fumbled with my left hand to get the back door open. The handle was cool. I had to hitch Ellie up higher to pull it wide. The child lock clicked.
"Hold on, baby," I whispered.
I set her into her car seat. She didn't want to let go of my neck at first. I had to gently peel her hands off. Her head was fully in the light now - shaved bald, the scalp pale and nicked on the crown, a thin Scab line behind her ear where the clippers had caught. Her forearm had that same raw scrape. She stared at me with big eyes, mouth open, not crying now just breathing fast.
"Daddy said grandma knows best," she said in a small voice. Not like she was telling me. Like she was trying it out to see if I would agree.
My throat went tight. I didn't answer that. I pulled the harness straps over her shoulders, clicked the chest clip, tightened them. My hands were shaking and the strap caught.
"I've got you," I told her. The same words I'd said in the hallway. They were the only true thing I had.
From the corner of my eye I could see Diane still on the porch, a dark shape against the white doorframe, the black clippers still in her hand at her side. She hadn't moved forward. She hadn't gone back inside either.
I shut Ellie's door. The thunk was solid. I walked around to the driver's side, got in, and hit the lock button. All four locks snapped down at once. The click was loud in the quiet car.
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Ellie watched me from her seat, her small hand on the strap, her shaved head lit by the window.
Through the windshield, Diane was still watching from the porch. I hadn't started the engine yet. My keys were in my hand, cold.
