Chapter 3
I didn't go back to the table. I took Lily's hand and walked her into the kitchen like we were just getting something we forgot.
My sweater was still wet against my stomach. The soup had cooled and it clung heavy to the cable-knit, that yellow-orange stain stiffening as it dried. I could feel it every time I breathed. The kitchen was dimmer than the dining room, the warm yellow light from behind us cutting a sharp line across the linoleum. The Christmas tree blinked in the other room. The bowls were still out there, untouched.
Lily's little pink coat was hung over the back of a kitchen chair where I'd draped it when we came in. Her small backpack with the unicorn keychain was on the floor beside it. I knelt down and picked up the coat.
Helen's voice carried from the dining table. "Sarah, dinner is not over. You don't get up in the middle of a meal and decide it's done."
I didn't answer. I shook out Lily's coat and held it open for her. She slipped her arms in without me having to ask. She was quiet in that way kids get when they know the adults are about to keep fighting. Her red top was bunched at her wrists. I zipped her up to her chin.
"Sarah," Helen said louder. "I am speaking to you. Lily hasn't finished her soup."
Daniel said something low to her I couldn't hear. A chair scraped.
I picked up the backpack. I checked that her water bottle was inside, her little gloves. My hands weren't steady. I kept my movements slow on purpose, so Lily wouldn't feel me rushing.
Daniel came into the kitchen doorway. He stopped halfway, one hand on the doorframe. His tie was loosened. He looked between me and Lily and then back toward the dining room where Helen was still sitting.
He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Hey. Don't do this in front of her. Don't make a scene in front of Lily. You're scaring her."
I looked down at Lily. She was watching Daniel, her hands tucked into her coat pockets. She didn't look scared. She looked tired.
"I'm not making a scene," I whispered back. It was the same low volume he used. "I'm taking her out of one."
He glanced over his shoulder. Helen was still at the table, not moving. "Just come sit down for five minutes. Let Mom calm down. We can talk about this at home. Not like this."
The soup on my sweater had started to smell sour and salty. The wet patch was cold now that we were away from the table. I pulled the edge of my own coat from the chair and didn't put it on yet. I held Lily's backpack out to Daniel for a second, and he didn't take it.
I leaned in so Lily wouldn't hear everything. "I'm going to wait in the car with Lily. It's cold but it's quiet. You decide if you want to leave with us. I'm not telling you what to do in there. I'm just not staying at that table while she talks to me like that in front of our daughter."
His mouth opened and closed. I saw that quick flicker in his eyes, that want to fix it fast and make it go away. "Sarah, it's Christmas. My mom—"
"I know," I said. I cut him off gently, not sharp. My voice stayed even. "That's why I'm not yelling. I'm just going outside."
He didn't move to stop me when I picked up my car keys from the counter. He just stood there in his dark suit, his hands at his sides, and I could see he thought if he waited long enough I'd change my mind and sit back down.
I took Lily's hand again. "Come on, sweetie. Let's wait in the car and let Daddy finish talking."
We went out the side door to the driveway. The air hit us all at once. It was that clear, biting December cold that makes your nose sting. So different from the warm yellow dining room we left behind. Our breath came out in little clouds. The driveway was dark except for the porch light and the glow from the Christmas tree through the front window.
Our car was parked at the end of the drive, frost already starting on the windshield. I clicked the fob and the lights flashed. I opened the back door and lifted Lily up into her booster seat. Her coat made the buckle tight and I had to adjust the straps. She didn't complain.
I got in the passenger side and closed the door. The inside of the car was freezing. The vinyl seats were hard with cold. I finally pulled my own coat on over the stained sweater and zipped it up, but the damp patch underneath was still cold against my skin. It made me shiver.
Lily kicked her feet a little in the back. "Are we going home?" she asked.
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"Soon," I said. I turned around to look at her. "Daddy's still inside. We're going to wait and see if he comes with us."
The house sat there, warm and lit. Through the dining room window I could see Helen still at the table and Daniel standing in the kitchen doorway, not coming out, not sitting down. Between us was just that stretch of cold driveway and the closed car doors.
