Chapter 4 - The Juice Spot on the Rug
The hum was gone and the room felt too loud without it. My ears rang a little. Noah was warm against my back and his head had tipped to the side in the shawl. I could feel his breath on my neck, fast and then slow.
Mr. Daniel stayed down on one knee on the rug. He did not get up. His suit pulled at his knee and his shoe squeaked a little on the wood where the rug stopped. He looked at the vacuum and then at me and then at the desk behind me.
I knew I had to show him before he found it himself. That is what Mom used to say at the diner when I spilled. Show it fast.
I pointed. My finger shook.
"There," I whispered. "I tried to get it."
On the rug near the leg of the desk there was a dark spot. It was not big. It was the size of my hand. The rug there was darker than around it and the little hairs of the rug stuck together. It smelled sweet and sour. Apple juice.
I had put the box in my pocket from the kitchen. I did not mean to take it. It was on the counter and I was thirsty and Noah was crying. I drank half and saved half. Then in the study when I bent to push the vacuum, the box bent too and the straw leaked out. It dripped down my dress and onto the rug.
I had tried to vacuum it up. I thought the big vacuum could drink it like a straw. I went back and forth over it three times. Then I tried to rub it with my cloth.
Mr. Daniel leaned closer. He did not touch it right away. He just looked. The lamp made his face half yellow and half blue from the window.
"When did that happen?" he said. His voice was low.
"Before you came," I said. "I didn't mean to."
He nodded one time. He held out his hand, palm up. "Can I see your cloth?"
I did not want to give it. It was mine. But I put it in his hand. It was damp and warm and smelled like juice. The corner was dirty gray.
He pressed it between his fingers. Then he smelled it quick and set it on his own knee.
"Stay right here," he said.
He stood up. His knees popped. He walked to the desk. My stomach got tight.
The desk was big and dark. It had three drawers on the right side with little gold handles. He tried the top one. It did not open. He pulled a little harder. It stayed shut and made a small locked sound. He tried the middle one. Same. He tried the bottom one. Same.
He put his hand flat on top of the desk where the papers were. There was a stack with a clip and an envelope on top. He did not pick them up. He did not read them. He just checked if anything was wet. His fingers hovered over the edge near where I had stood.
"Did anything get on the desk?" he asked without looking at me.
"No," I said fast. "Only the rug. I checked."
He turned and looked at me. I held still so he would believe me. Noah moved in the shawl and made a little noise. I bounced just a tiny bit on my feet to keep him asleep. My bare feet sank in the rug.
Mr. Daniel came back and knelt again by the spot. He took his phone out of his pants pocket. The light from it was white and bright.
"I'm going to take a picture," he said. "So I know what it looked like. Okay?"
I nodded. I did not know why he needed a picture. I thought pictures were for trouble. He held the phone low and took one. Click. Then he stood and took one more from higher up with his shoe out of the way.
"I'm sending this to my housekeeper," he said, typing with his thumbs. "She'll know what to use on it so it doesn't stain."
I waited for the scold. My throat hurt.
He put the phone away. "You tried to clean it. That's why the vacuum was on over here?"
"Yes," I said. "I wanted to fix it before —"
I stopped. Before you called the sheriff. I did not say it.
He sat back on his heels. He looked tired. His white shirt was wrinkled at the neck where it was open.
"Mia," he said. "This rug cleans. The desk does not. The drawers stay locked. Nothing on top gets touched. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I said.
He picked up my cloth from his knee and gave it back. It felt colder now.
"If I let you stay in here tonight," he said slow, "will you promise to finish? Just the rug. Nothing else."
I squeezed the cloth hard. Juice came out a little on my palm but I didn't wipe it.
"I promise," I said. "I can finish. I can make it all clean and you won't get in trouble."
Something in his face changed. Just a little around his eyes.
"I'm not worried about me getting in trouble," he said.
I didn't believe that. Grown-ups always worried about that.
Noah breathed out loud and settled. The rain tapped the window. Mr. Daniel looked at the spot one more time, then at the vacuum with its black hose curled on the rug, then at my bare feet.
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"Okay," he said. "Tonight you stay. We deal with the spot in the morning when there's light."
My legs felt wobbly. I wanted to say thank you but my mouth wouldn't make it right. So I just nodded and held my cloth tight against my dress and stood very still so he would know I would not touch the desk.
