Chapter 10 - The Cabinet
I was seven and sitting at the kitchen table in my blue shirt with Ellie propped against the cereal box so she could watch me eat. That morning the light coming through the sliding door was so bright it made the Cheerios look white.
Grandpa Ray sat across from me in his tan jacket. He hadn't taken it off since he'd come back. He'd slept on the couch. I knew because his shirt was wrinkled at the collar and his hair was flat on one side.
Mom was in the shower. I could hear the pipes humming in the wall behind the fridge. That was the only loud sound in the house.
"You eat good," Grandpa said. "Can I get you more milk?"
I shook my head. I was chewing slow. I wasn't as sleepy as the birthday morning, but my eyes still felt sticky. The notebook he'd been writing in was tucked under his coffee mug.
He stood up with his empty mug. "I'm gonna grab a trash bag for this bathroom can while your mom's busy. Where does she keep 'em?"
I pointed with my spoon. "Under the sink."
He opened the cabinet under the sink. It smelled like lemon and wet sponge. He pulled out a white trash bag and then just stood there a second, looking at the kitchen like he didn't know where to go next.
The shower kept running.
He opened the cabinet over the coffee maker. That's where Mom kept the cups and the tea and the medicine stuff all mixed together. I watched because Ellie's head was turned that way.
He didn't touch anything at first. He just looked. I saw the orange bottle of my cold medicine and the white jar with the gummies that looked like candy but Mom said weren't for kids to take themselves. There was a little clear dropper lying in the drawer with the straws and the juice lids.
My heart wasn't beating fast. I just ate another spoonful and milk dripped down my chin.
Grandpa took out his phone. He held it steady over the shelf and took a picture. Then he bent a little and took one of the drawer. Click sounds were turned off but I saw the flash blink soft. He didn't move the bottles. He didn't pick up the dropper. He just left everything exactly where it was.
"Grandpa?" I said.
"Yeah, baby girl," he said quickly. He put his phone back in his pants pocket.
"Are you looking for something?"
He closed the cabinet slow so it wouldn't slam. "Just trying to learn where things are so I can help."
The shower stopped. The pipes knocked once. I could hear Mom moving around upstairs.
He came back to the table and wiped my chin with a napkin. His hand was shaking a little, just in his fingers.
I pushed my bowl away. There was still milk in it. On the counter by the sink was my juice cup from last night. The yellow-orange one with the white lid. It was empty and rinsed, sitting upside down on a towel.
I looked at it and made a face without meaning to.
Grandpa saw.
"That juice taste funny to you sometimes?" he asked. His voice was low, easy, like he was just talking.
I hugged Ellie tighter against my chest. She smelled like cereal now.
"Sometimes it tastes yucky," I said. "And then I get sleepy."
He nodded once. He didn't ask me anything else. He didn't say who put it there or why. He just breathed in through his nose and let it out slow.
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"Thank you for telling me," he said.
Upstairs the bathroom door opened and we heard Mom's footsteps on the hall floor. Grandpa reached over and slid his notebook back out from under the mug. He didn't write anything down yet. He just put his hand on top of it and kept it there while he looked at the empty cup drying by the sink.
