Chapter 2 - Look at This Video
The frosting was on my shoes. That is what I kept looking at while he yelled.
White and blue smeared across the toe of my left shoe, and a little bit of orange near the strap. It was cold through my sock. The cake was on the floor by the rug, tilted on its side, and I could hear someone breathing hard behind me. Maybe one of his friends. Nobody moved to clean it up.
He was still turned away from me, toward her. His shoulders were up high under his black suit jacket. I could see the back of his white shirt collar, wrinkled where he had leaned forward at me.
"How could you do this? Get out," he said again, louder this time, and his voice cracked a little at the end.
I thought at first he still meant me. My chest got tight and my eyes burned. The tears were already on my cheeks from before, and I wiped at them with the back of my hand. My right hand was shaking so bad I almost dropped it.
My phone. The purple case was slippery from my palm sweat.
I stepped forward. The rug caught on my shoe and I had to catch myself. The cake smell hit me then, sweet and buttery, mixed with the wood cleaner smell from the floor.
I held the phone up between them. "Look," I said. My voice came out thin. "Just look."
He didn't turn at first. He was staring at her by the balloons. She was standing by the wall under the streamers, near the framed flag, her hands down at her sides in her dark green dress. Her mouth was open a little, like she had frozen in the middle of saying something.
"Look at this video," I said, louder.
That made him glance back at me. His face was red. His short brown hair was messed up in front where he kept pushing his hand through it. He looked at my phone like he wanted to knock it out of my hand.
"What?" he said.
I pressed play with my thumb. I had watched it so many times that morning I knew exactly where it started. The kitchen counter. The big metal bowl. Her hands.
I pushed the phone closer to him. "Watch."
He grabbed it from me. Not gentle. His fingers closed over the purple case and yanked it out of my hand so fast my wrist stung. For a second I was scared he was going to throw it. Instead he looked down at the screen because the sound started playing, the little clink of the spoon against the bowl.
On the screen, she was pouring from a small clear vial into the batter. You could see the liquid hit. You could see her look over her shoulder first, quick, toward the hallway.
He went still. I watched his eyes move. He tilted the phone a little toward the daylight coming through the windows, like he couldn't quite see.
"What is this?" he said, quieter now.
"It's her," I said. I was breathing too fast. I made myself slow down. "This morning. In the kitchen. Before the party."
Behind us, someone whispered. I heard chairs shift on the wood floor. The living room had been so loud a minute ago with music and talking, and now it was just the video sound and my brother breathing. One of the older guys in the back said, "Wait, rewind that," and another woman said, "Shh."
My brother hit replay with his thumb. He watched it again. His jaw moved. He looked from the screen up to her, then back to the screen.
The blonde woman took a step forward. Her long hair moved off her shoulder. She was shaking her head, just a little at first, then faster.
"That's not —" she said, and stopped. She looked at the guests, then at him. Her eyes were wide. "That's not what it looks like."
My brother kept holding the phone. He didn't yell at me anymore. His arm dropped a little, but he didn't give it back.
"What is in the bowl?" he asked her. His voice was low now, different from the shouting. "What did you pour?"
She pressed her lips together. She glanced at the cake on the floor, then at me, then back at him. I could see her hands twisting the fabric of her dress.
"It was just flavoring," she said.
Nobody said anything. The balloons by the doorway moved a little from the vent air. The video kept looping in his hand, playing silent now, her hand tipping that little vial over and over.
He looked down at me. For the first time since I knocked the cake off the table, he really looked at me. My dress had frosting on it. My cheeks were wet. My hands were empty because he had my phone.
"Did you take this?" he asked.
May you like
I nodded. I couldn't get the word out at first, so I swallowed and tried again. "Yes."
He turned back to her. He lifted the phone up so she could see the screen. "Explain that," he said.
