Chapter 5 - The Drive Home With Wet Shoes
The car was already running when Daniel buckled me into the backseat. He'd found me dry clothes from somewhere inside the house, a too-big gray sweatshirt and sweatpants that belonged to my cousin that smelled like clean laundry. My own shirt and pants were wadded up somewhere. My sneakers weren't.
They were in a white plastic grocery bag on the floorboard by my feet, and I could see the water had pooled at the bottom of the bag. The red trim around the soles had gone dark. Daniel had tied the handles in a knot like he didn't want anything to leak onto the floor mat. I kept staring at it because I didn't know where else to look.
Mom got in the front passenger seat and didn't turn around. Her magenta dress made a soft sound against the leather. She'd fixed her hair in the bathroom and put her heels back on, but there was a grass stain on the back of one ankle I could see when she crossed her legs.
Daniel pulled out of the lake house driveway slow. The string lights were still on behind us and I watched them get smaller in the side window until the trees blocked them. The heater was blowing hot air on my damp legs and the windows started to fog a little at the edges.
For a long time nobody talked except for the turn signal clicking. Then Mom said, "He was nervous."
I didn't know she was talking about Richard at first. Daniel didn't answer.
"He had the whole night planned for months," she said, her voice flat like she was trying to keep it steady. "He was nervous about the proposal. That's all that was. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone."
Daniel kept both hands on the wheel. His knuckles were still red. "He told an eight-year-old to go to the edge of the lake to get something for him."
"He asked him to help," Mom said quickly. "There's a difference."
"He asked a kid who can't swim well to lean over the water in the dark for a box he didn't want to get himself."
Mom turned her head toward the window. I could see her reflection in the glass. "Daniel, please. Not in front of Ethan."
That was when I realized it. I hadn't before, not really. The small dark box on the grass where Daniel had reached for it, the way Richard had been holding it earlier by the tables before everything got loud, the way Mom kept touching her left hand like she was checking for something that wasn't there. The floral centerpiece on the table he'd been standing next to. The way everyone had been dressed up.
It was for her. The box was for her.
I shifted in the seat and the borrowed sweatpants made a swish sound. My feet were cold even with the heater on because my socks were still damp inside the bag with my shoes and Daniel hadn't had dry socks to give me.
"Was Richard gonna propose tonight?" I asked. My voice sounded small in the car.
Mom's shoulders went up and then down. She didn't turn around. "We were going to talk about it later, sweetie."
Daniel glanced at me in the rearview mirror. His eyes caught mine for a second and then went back to the road. "Yeah, buddy. That was the plan."
"So that's what was in the box," I said.
Neither of them said anything. The heater hummed and the road noise got louder on the highway. A truck passed us and its headlights washed across the backseat.
Mom finally said, "That box was important to him. It was his mother's ring. He wanted it to be perfect."
"And it wasn't perfect because I fell in?" I asked.
"No," she said too fast. "No, honey, that's not what I meant."
Daniel exhaled through his nose. "Mom. Come on."
"What do you want me to say?" she said, and her voice cracked for the first time since we'd left. She still didn't look at either of us. "You want me to say he shouldn't have asked you? Fine. He shouldn't have asked you. But he didn't push you in. You slipped. And now he thinks we all think he's a monster and his grandmother's ring is sitting in the grass somewhere —"
She stopped herself. Daniel didn't move, but I saw his jaw tighten. I knew the box was in the inner pocket of his charcoal shirt. I could see the faint square shape when he turned the wheel.
We turned into our apartment complex. The parking lot light was buzzing yellow over our building. Daniel pulled into our spot and put the car in park and left it running. Nobody got out right away.
The plastic bag with my wet sneakers had tipped over a little and a few drops of lake water had leaked onto the mat. Mom stared straight ahead at the brick wall in front of the car. Daniel stared at the steering wheel.
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I sat in the back in clothes that weren't mine and thought about that box sitting on the grass where Daniel had left the glasses overturned, and how Mom thought it was still there in the dark by the lake, and how she still wanted it to be the night Richard had planned.
After a minute Mom opened her door and got out without saying anything. Daniel turned the car off.
