Chapter 9 - The Phone in Her Purse
The lobby air hit colder than the ceremony room. I felt it first on my wet hair.
My top stuck to my back and my sister's teeth were clicking beside me. Dad had his jacket off his shoulders already, holding it between us like he didn't know which one of us needed it more. The doors behind us were shut, but you could still hear chairs moving in there, people standing, whispering.
Claire came through the side door fast, her veil pulled back. Her shoes made no sound on the carpet.
"You can't take them out like that," she said. "They're freezing."
Dad didn't look at her. He wrapped the tux jacket around my sister and pulled me in against his side. His shirt was warm from underneath.
"I've got them," he said.
We moved toward the glass doors that led to the church parking lot. Outside, the light was gray and flat. Rain had stopped but the asphalt was black and shining. My sneakers squeaked.
My sister kept hold of my hand. Her fingers were ice.
By the planter near the entrance, Dad stopped. He crouched down so his eyes were level with us. "You okay for a minute? I need to talk to Claire, then we're going to get you dry."
I nodded. That's when I remembered.
I still had the bag. A small crossbody purse Claire had given me for the wedding, white fake leather. Inside, under a pack of tissues, was my old phone. The one with the cracked corner she said didn't work anymore.
I pulled it out. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped it.
"Dad," I said. "I kept them."
He took it like it was heavier than it was. He pressed the side button. The screen stayed black.
"It's dead," I said. "But they're in there. The messages."
Claire stepped closer. "Sophie, honey, give that to me. That's grown-up stuff."
Dad stood up slowly and slipped the phone into his pants pocket. He didn't give it to her.
In the parking lot, he walked us to his car. It was parked three rows out, under a light pole. He opened the back door and got the emergency blanket out of the trunk, the thin silver one. He tore the plastic with his teeth and wrapped it around both of us together. Then he started the car and turned the heat all the way up.
"Wait here," he told us. "Lock it from inside if you want. I'll be right by those doors."
My sister climbed into the middle and leaned her head on my shoulder. Through the windshield I could see Dad and Claire by the lobby glass. I cracked the back window so I could hear.
Claire had her arms crossed over her lace sleeves. "You need to charge that, you'll see. He was angry when he wrote those. I didn't want them to see their father like that."
Dad's voice was low. I had to strain to hear over the heater.
"Claire," he said. "Tell me one time I wrote that I didn't want them."
"You were under a lot of pressure —"
"Tell me the date. Tell me the number you sent it from."
She looked toward the car. "I protected them from a fight. You and I were fighting."
He pulled the dead phone back out and held it up between two fingers. "This is my language? These timestamps? You told them we were in Portugal."
"It was easier than saying we were three miles away," she said. Her voice cracked. "I didn't want you to come and confuse them before the wedding."
Dad was quiet for a long second. He glanced at the car, at us watching.
"That's not protection," he said. "That's you deciding what they get to believe about me."
He put the phone back in his pocket and patted it once.
"I'm keeping this," he said. "We're going to read every one together when it's charged."
Claire reached for his arm. "Daniel, please."
He stepped back. "Get your things. There's no wedding."
He walked back to the car and opened the driver's door. Cold air rushed in, then heat again. He looked at us in the rearview mirror.
May you like
"You did good keeping that," he said to me. His eyes were red around the edges. "Really good."
I held the silver blanket tighter around my sister. The phone was in his pocket now, not in my purse. I felt lighter and sicker at the same time, watching Claire still standing by the glass doors getting smaller as the windows fogged up.
