Chapter 6
We went to Grandma's house after dinner. Mom said she wanted to talk where I could watch TV in the other room, but she brought me anyway because the social worker was coming in the morning and she wanted things clear.
Grandma lives in the little house on the county road past the church, with the big oak in the yard and the wind chimes on the porch. Her living room smelled like coffee and laundry soap. She had already made tea even though Mom said she didn't want any.
I sat on the couch with my toy and the remote, but I wasn't really watching. The kitchen is right next to the living room in Grandma's house, and they didn't close the door all the way.
Mom started. "Mom, I need to ask you straight. Where did that craft box come from? Lily said it was on the counter that morning, already boxed. Not on the top shelf."
Grandma was quiet for a second. Then she said, "I bought it last week. It was in my pantry. I brought it over because Lily kept asking to make that birthday card for her friend. I thought it would keep her busy while I folded laundry."
"But you told Dr. Patel you bought it at the dollar store by the highway," Mom said. "And you told me you moved it up high."
"I did," Grandma said. Her voice got thinner. "I put it on top of the fridge last night. I swear I did. I don't know how she reached it. I was in the bedroom for two minutes."
Mom's voice stayed low. I could hear her trying not to get loud because I was there. "You said that before. When I was little, too. You left the bleach where I could reach it, remember? Dad told me."
That was a long pause. I heard a chair move.
Grandma said, "That was thirty years ago. And your father—"
"Don't," Mom cut in, but not mean. Tired. "Lily was on the tile in paint and glitter and you wiped her off with a paper towel and drove her to the ER without calling me first. I was at work since seven. You were supposed to watch her."
I looked down at my hands. Most of the purple was gone now, but I could still see a little green under my left thumbnail where I hadn't scrubbed hard enough. On TV, a cartoon dog was barking.
Grandma came to the doorway and looked at me. Her eyes were red. "Lily-bug, are you okay? Does your arm still hurt?"
I nodded a tiny nod. "A little," I whispered.
She came and sat next to me on the couch and didn't touch me right away, she just sat close. Mom stood in the doorway watching.
"I was scared," Grandma said to both of us. "When I saw her on the floor, covered in that stuff, glitter everywhere, I thought— I panicked. I should have called you from the kitchen. I'm sorry."
Mom crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. "The hospital said the cheap glitter glue might have something in it that isn't for little kids. And a social worker is coming tomorrow. They're going to ask why a five-year-old was alone in the kitchen with an unlocked cabinet."
Grandma folded her hands tight, the way she had in the hospital. "I have never had anyone question how I watch my granddaughter. I raised you. I watched you while your dad worked nights."
"I know," Mom said. Her voice cracked a little. "And I asked you to help because I have to work. I just need you to say you left it where she could get it, so we can tell them the truth."
Grandma stared at the kitchen, at nothing. After a minute she said, "I left the box on the counter. I thought I'd be right back. I didn't think she'd climb."
Mom closed her eyes and breathed out. It wasn't a happy sound, but it wasn't angry either. She came over and sat on the other side of me, so I was between them, and put her hand gently on my knee where the green paint had been.
"Okay," she whispered. "Okay. We tell the truth tomorrow. And we fix the cabinet."
May you like
Grandma reached over and, very carefully, tucked the yellow foot of my plush back under my arm where it had slipped. Her hand shook.
Outside, the wind chimes moved even though there wasn't much wind, and the light through Grandma's curtains got low and orange, and for the first time since the hospital, the two of them weren't pulling me in different directions.
