Chapter 4: The Night My Mom Didn't See
Richard told me to go say goodnight to Mom before Daniel left.
He didn't raise his voice. He kept his hand on the back of my chair at the dining table and said it like it was a normal thing, like I should be polite because company was still there. His fingers rested lightly on my shoulder and then gave me a little steer toward the hallway.
"Go give Mom a kiss. She's got that headache," he said.
I stood up. The white tights made a soft sound against the chair. I didn't look at Daniel where he was still half-crouched by the kitchen island. I felt his eyes on my back the whole way across the glossy tile, past the garland taped along the doorframe, past the string lights that threw warm spots on the floor.
The stairs were carpeted. I held the railing because my sandals slipped if I hurried. My dress lifted a little with each step. At the top, the hall light was off. Claire's bedroom door was cracked open and the lamp on her nightstand was on low.
She was propped up on two pillows, still in the dark green sweater she'd worn for dinner. Her phone was face-down on the blanket. She had a damp washcloth folded on the nightstand that she hadn't used.
"Hey, honey," she said when she saw me. Her voice was tired. "Come here, sweet pea."
I went to the side of the bed. Up close I could see the lipstick had worn off the middle of her mouth and her eyes were a little glassy. The room smelled like her lotion and the pine candle she'd lit earlier.
I didn't know how to tell her without saying it. I stood there fiddling with the hem of my dress, pinching the white fabric with the red sash between my thumbs. I lifted it a little and let it drop. Lifted it again. My hands wouldn't stay still.
Claire reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. Her fingers caught on my red velvet ribbon.
"You've got tears again," she said softly. "Are you overtired?"
I nodded before I meant to. Then I shook my head. Then I just stared at the sash.
"It was a big night," she said. "All those lights and people. You're just all wound up, huh? Holiday excitement does that."
She smiled to make it kind. She thought she was naming what she saw. I felt my throat get tight because she was looking right at my hands shaking on my dress and still seeing something else.
"Mom," I said. My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
"Hmm?"
I pulled the hem up an inch higher. My knuckles were white. I waited for her to ask why I kept doing that.
She brushed her thumb under my eye. "I know, baby. It's late. You've been so good today."
From the doorway, Daniel cleared his throat very quietly. I hadn't heard him come up. He stood just outside the room with his hands at his sides, his suit jacket unbuttoned. The little clear coil was still in his right ear. He didn't come in.
Richard appeared behind him a second later. He put a hand on the doorframe and leaned in, easy.
"She good?" Richard asked Claire.
Claire sighed. "She's just tired. Aren't you, love? Overstimulated."
Richard nodded like that explained everything. "Ran her ragged today with the photos. She looked perfect, though. Didn't you, princess?"
He said it to me but he was smiling at Claire. Claire smiled back. It was the smile she used when she wanted to agree quickly so she could go back to lying down.
"She did," Claire said. "You did so good in that dress."
Daniel watched the whole exchange from the doorway. He didn't say anything. His eyes moved from Richard's hand on the frame to Claire's face to my hands still twisted in the sash. His eyebrows pulled together just a fraction.
Richard stepped into the room and ruffled my hair lightly, straightening the ribbon. His hand was warm.
"Give Mom a kiss so Daniel can get you some water downstairs," he said.
I leaned forward and kissed Claire's cheek. It was cool. She kissed my forehead in return and patted my back.
"Sleepy girl," she whispered. "Go on down and Uncle Daniel will tuck you in a minute."
Richard guided me back toward the hall with that same light hand on my shoulder. Daniel stepped aside to let us pass. In the hallway, under the recessed light, Daniel looked at me once, direct, and then looked away.
Downstairs, by the stairs, Daniel knelt again so we were eye level. He kept his voice so low Richard wouldn't hear it from Claire's room.
"You tried," he said.
I nodded. My eyes burned.
He glanced up toward the bedroom where Richard's voice was still talking, low and charming, saying something to Claire that made her laugh a little tired laugh.
Daniel's mouth tightened. He tapped his watch once, a nervous habit, and whispered, "She didn't see it because he told her what she was seeing before she could look. If I just tell her what you told me, he'll do the same thing. He'll say you're confused or tired."
I understood then, even at seven, that my mom wasn't ignoring me on purpose. It was like there was glass between us that my dad had put there without her noticing. I had held up my dress and shown her with my hands and she had still heard his explanation louder than my silence.
Daniel put his hand very lightly on my forearm, not pulling, just there.
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"We need something he can't talk away," he said. "Not just words. Something she can see herself."
I held onto the edge of my sash until my fingers hurt, and I knew my mom would go to sleep that night still thinking I was just overtired from the lights.
