Chapter 8: The Bedroom Door We Locked
Dad didn't pick me up. He held his hand out low, palm up, and waited until I put mine in his. His fingers were warm. Mine were cold. We stood up together from the hallway floor and my knees popped a little from sitting so long hugging them.
"Come here with me, Millie-girl," he said. He kept his voice quiet, not whispering, just low enough that it didn't carry to the living room.
We walked the five steps to his bedroom. The door was already open. The bed was made with the dark blue quilt, and the light from the window fell across the light wood floor the same way it had in the hallway. My white sneakers made a soft squeak with each step. I could feel one of my light blue bows slipping a little on the right side, the elastic catching.
He didn't close the door right away. He knelt again once we were inside, so we were level. The bed was behind me and the wall was pale and empty except for a framed photo I hadn't ever really looked at before. His yellow shirt had a wrinkle at the knee where he'd been kneeling.
"You're going to stay in here for a little bit, okay?" he said. He pushed that loose bow back up gently, not pulling my hair. "You keep your shoes on. Keep your bows. I'm not going anywhere far."
I nodded. My cheek still stung where the reddish mark was. I sat on the edge of the bed and my feet didn't quite touch the floor, so my sneakers hung there, the velcro straps bright white. I wrapped my arms around myself again but not as tight.
He stood and went to the doorway and called, not loud, "Ray?"
Grandpa Ray was still standing in the hallway, his blue collared shirt a little untucked on one side. He didn't move fast. He looked at Dad, then at me sitting on the bed.
"Can you sit with her?" Dad asked him. His voice stayed even. "Just sit here. Door stays open or closed however she wants, but you stay in the room with her. I need to talk to Lillian."
Grandpa Ray's eyebrows came together. He didn't answer right away. He looked back toward the living room where Mom was, then back at Dad.
"She's fine right here," Dad said, quieter. "I just need someone she knows in the room. Please."
Grandpa Ray nodded once, short. He came in and lowered himself into the chair by the window, the one with the laundry folded on the arm. He didn't try to touch me or talk to me right away. He just sat, hands on his knees, looking at Dad.
"Hey, kiddo," he said to me, soft.
I gave him a little nod. I liked that he didn't tell me to smile.
Mom noticed the second Dad stepped back into the hallway. I heard her footsteps, quick. She had her arms crossed still, but now she was moving.
"What are you doing?" she said to Dad. She kept her voice down but it had an edge. "Why are you putting her in your bedroom?"
Dad stepped partway out and pulled the bedroom door so it was only open a foot, enough that I could see his back and Mom's green dress in the gap.
"Because I need to talk to you without her sitting on the floor listening," he said.
"You are isolating her," Mom said. "You're making this bigger than it is. You ask her a question and then you move her and now you have your father babysitting her like we're the problem."
I could see Dad's shoulders rise when he breathed in. He didn't raise his voice.
"I'm not accusing family," he said. "I'm keeping her in one safe room while we figure out what happened to her face."
"She fell," Mom said, fast. "She said she fell near the table. That balloon—"
"She didn't say that," Dad cut in, still quiet. "She told me who scared her. And there's a mark on her cheek that wasn't there this morning."
Mom's arms tightened across her chest. "So you're going to lock her in a bedroom and interrogate us? In our own house?"
"No lock," Dad said. "She decides if the door is open. Ray's with her so she's not alone. Not for a second. I'm not leaving her alone and I'm not taking her out of the house yet. I just need ten minutes with you and Ray without her having to hear every word."
There was a pause. From the bed I could hear Grandpa Ray breathing. I stared at my sneakers, at the little white velcro tabs.
Mom looked past Dad into the room at me. Her expression didn't soften, but her voice dropped.
"Millie, honey, do you want to come back out with Mommy?" she asked.
I didn't answer right away. Dad didn't answer for me. He just waited, kneeling slightly again so his face was near the door gap, looking at me.
I shook my head, small. I pulled my feet up a little and hugged my knees again on the edge of the bed.
"Okay," Mom said, like she was swallowing something. "Okay."
Dad looked at Grandpa Ray and Ray gave him another nod. Dad turned back to Mom.
"We'll be in the kitchen," he said to her. "Ray stays here. Door stays like this unless she wants it different."
He glanced at me one more time, held my eyes.
May you like
"I'll be right down the hall," he said. "You holler if you need me."
I nodded. He stepped out and Mom followed him, their footsteps going toward the living room. Grandpa Ray didn't get up. He stayed in the chair between me and the open door, his hands still on his knees, blocking the view of the hallway just enough that I felt hidden but not alone.
