Chapter 4: Dora Called When Daniel Was at Work
I woke up before my alarm and lay there listening to the apartment. The heat ticked on, then off again. My phone was on the kitchen counter where I'd left it, screen down, and I could see the little green light blinking from across the room.
I hadn't replied to Daniel.
There were three missed calls from him timed at 10:14, 10:41, and 11:02, and one voicemail I hadn't opened. The preview line said, Call me back, Mom. The night before was still sitting in my chest, the way the cake had looked smeared on the wood and the way he'd said it so evenly, like he was teaching me something.
I made coffee and stood at the window in my robe. It was a clear cold morning, the parking lot empty except for Mrs. Jensen's old Subaru with frost on the windshield. My hands were steady this time. I told myself that was something.
The phone buzzed at 8:47.
I knew it was Daniel at first and my stomach tightened, but the name on the screen said Dora.
Dora: Are you awake? Is it okay to call for a minute? Daniel just left for work.
I stared at it for a few seconds. I typed back, Yes. You can call.
She called within ten seconds. Her voice was small, like she was holding the phone close so no one else would hear.
"Margaret? Did I wake you?" she said.
"No, dear, I'm up. I'm having coffee."
A pause. I could hear a faucet running faintly on her end, then turned off.
"I've been thinking about last night since you left," she said. She took a breath. "I wanted to say I'm sorry. I should have said something at the table. I just froze."
I sat down at the small table. The light was coming in hard across the Formica.
"You were trying to keep the peace for your child," I said. "I understand that."
"No," she said quickly. "That's not... I mean, yes, but that wasn't right. When he talked to you like that. I should have told him to stop. I told myself he was joking, but he wasn't."
Another pause. I heard her swallow.
"He told me this morning you overreacted," she went on, quieter. "He said it was just the cake, that you knocked it when you stood up and then made it into something bigger. He said you're using the estate thing to punish him."
That landed exactly the way Daniel intended it to. I felt the heat come up my neck. I kept my hand around the mug so I wouldn't squeeze the phone.
"He said that," I said. It wasn't a question.
"His words, not mine," she said. "He said if you'd just sign the paper we could all move past this. He said you're holding it over us."
I closed my eyes for a second. The kitchen clock ticked.
"Dora," I said, keeping my voice even. "I did not knock that cake. And the estate is not leverage. It's my home and my future. I went to an attorney because Daniel has been pressuring me, and I needed to know what my rights are. That's what that text was about."
"I know," she whispered. "I told him that didn't sound like you. But he gets... when he gets fixed on something, he doesn't hear me."
I looked at the empty chair across from me and thought of her at that table, not looking at me, her hand on the child's shoulder.
"I want you to hear me clearly, because I need this to be simple between us," I said. "I love you and I love that little one in the blue top more than anything. You can call me, you can come by, she can come by anytime. But I will not talk about signing anything while someone is trying to force me. Not with you as a messenger, not at a dinner table. If Daniel wants to discuss it, he can do it through the proper way, calmly, with time to think."
She was quiet, but it wasn't the same silence as last night. This one was listening.
"Okay," she said finally. "Okay. I understand. I wouldn't want you to sign something because you felt cornered either."
"Thank you."
"I didn't want you to think we both felt that way," she added. "About last night. I didn't."
"I don't think that, dear."
She let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh. "Can I bring her to see you? Maybe tomorrow? Just us. After her preschool. Daniel has late hours on Thursdays, he wouldn't... we could just visit. No paperwork, I promise."
My throat tightened in a different way now.
"I'd like that very much," I said. "Tomorrow afternoon is perfect. I'll have apple slices and those little cheese crackers she likes."
"She'll like that," Dora said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "Around three thirty?"
May you like
"Three thirty is good. Just text when you're on your way."
We said goodbye and I stayed at the table after the call ended, the phone warm in my hand. The green light was off now. Through the window, the frost on the Subaru had started to melt in the sun. I didn't feel fixed, but I felt less alone in my own kitchen, and for the first time since I'd sat in that dark car looking at their lit-up house, I could picture the next day without bracing for it.
