Chapter 2 - the crumbs on the floor)
Four days earlier, Wednesday afternoon had begun with a pink lunchbox.
Emily came home twenty minutes early because the restaurant where she worked had lost power.
She remembered thinking the unexpected break was a gift.
She could pick Khloe up from school.
Maybe they could stop for milkshakes.
Maybe, for one ordinary afternoon, Emily could be the mother she had been before Daniel died.
She opened the front door and heard crying.
Not loud crying.
The kind Khloe had learned to hide.
Emily dropped her keys.
"Khloe?"
The crying stopped.
She walked into the living room.
Her daughter stood near the coffee table in pink sneakers and a yellow school sweater.
Crackers covered the floor.
Ruth stood over them.
One heel rested on a pile of crushed crumbs.
Tyler lay across the sofa with a plate of steak balanced on his stomach.
Emily smelled garlic and butter.
Ruth looked irritated to see her.
"You're early."
Emily looked at Khloe.
"What happened?"
Khloe wiped her cheeks.
"My lunch."
Ruth scoffed.
"She was whining."
Emily noticed the open lunchbox on the floor.
Empty.
She knew she had packed a turkey sandwich that morning, along with apple slices, yogurt, crackers and two dollars for Friday's school snack sale.
"Why is her lunchbox here?"
Khloe whispered, "Grandma took it."
Ruth rolled her eyes.
"I took it out of her backpack because it smelled."
"It was washed last night."
"Then your child apparently doesn't know how to close a yogurt."
Khloe shook her head.
"I didn't spill it."
Ruth turned.
"Don't argue."
Khloe flinched.
Emily saw it.
That was the moment something inside her shifted.
For months she had ignored small things.
Ruth correcting Khloe's posture.
Ruth deciding which television shows were childish.
Ruth throwing away drawings because the refrigerator looked cluttered.
Ruth complaining that Emily packed too much food.
Ruth saying Khloe cried because Emily had made her soft.
Emily had told herself grief made everyone difficult.
Daniel's death had broken Ruth too.
Tyler was unemployed.
Ruth had offered to stay temporarily.
Emily needed help with school pickups and bills.
Families survived by tolerating each other.
At least that was what Emily had believed.
Then Ruth slapped the lunchbox from Khloe's hands.
It happened so suddenly that Emily froze.
The plastic box struck the floor.
The remaining crackers scattered.
Ruth crushed them beneath her heel.
"Hungry?" she said. "Eat the crumbs."
Khloe sobbed.
Emily crossed the room.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
Ruth turned.
Tyler stopped chewing.
Emily pulled Khloe behind her.
"Get away from her."
Ruth's expression remained cool.
"Don't be dramatic."
"You just told my daughter to eat off the floor."
"She needs discipline."
"She's seven."
"And already manipulative."
Emily stared at her.
Tyler laughed.
That laugh made Emily look toward him.
He waved several bills in one hand.
Khloe saw them.
Her crying became louder.
"That's mine."
Emily looked at her.
"What?"
Khloe pointed.
"My lunch money."
Tyler smirked.
"Your lunch paid for my gas. Cry about it."
Emily crossed the room and knocked the money from his hand.
"You stole from my starving daughter, you pathetic bastard."
Tyler stood.
"Watch your mouth."
"You took money from a seven year old."
"It was twelve bucks."
"It was hers."
Ruth stepped between them.
"Enough."
Emily laughed in disbelief.
"You don't get to say enough."
Ruth moved into Emily's face.
"Keep running your mouth. Soon you'll lose a hell of a lot more than money."
Emily's anger vanished.
Something cold replaced it.
"What the hell did you do?"
Tyler's smile disappeared.
Ruth looked at him.
It was only a glance.
But Emily saw panic.
Khloe suddenly grabbed the side of Emily's dress.
Her hands were shaking.
"Mommy."
Emily crouched.
"What?"
"Grandma made me practice your signature."
Emily stopped breathing.
"What did you say?"
Khloe looked toward Ruth.
Ruth's eyes sharpened.
"She's confused."
Khloe shook her head quickly.
"No. The E and the W. Grandma said I had to make them the same."
Emily stood.
"What did you make her sign?"
Ruth's voice became flat.
"Nothing."
Tyler muttered, "She wasn't supposed to tell you before Sunday."
Silence.
Ruth grabbed his arm.
"Shut up."
Tyler realized what he had said.
Emily slowly reached into her pocket.
Her phone was still recording.
She had activated the recorder seconds after seeing Ruth crush the food, thinking she might need proof if Ruth later denied what happened.
Now the device in her hand felt heavier than a weapon.
"What happens Sunday?"
Ruth stared at her.
"Daniel's memorial."
"That's not what I asked."
"You're upset."
"What did Khloe sign?"
"She didn't sign anything."
Emily looked down at her daughter.
"Where did Grandma make you practice?"
Khloe hesitated.
Ruth said, "Do not drag the child into your paranoia."
Emily snapped her head around.
"My paranoia?"
"Daniel died and you have been unstable ever since."
The words were calculated.
Emily knew it immediately.
Not cruel.
Useful.
Ruth wanted them remembered.
Emily suddenly understood that the argument itself might be part of something larger.
She forced herself to become calm.
"Khloe, go upstairs."
"I don't want to."
"Go to my room. Lock the door."
Ruth scoffed.
"That's ridiculous."
Emily looked at her daughter.
"Now."
Khloe ran.
Tyler reached for the money on the floor.
Emily put her shoe on it.
"Leave it."
He glared at her.
"You think you own everything in this house."
Emily looked at him.
"I own the house."
That hit something.
Tyler's eyes changed.
Ruth stepped in quickly.
"Daniel's family built this life too."
"Daniel bought this house with me."
"With Walker money."
"With our salaries."
"Your little restaurant salary?"
Emily stared at her.
Ruth's contempt was no longer hidden.
Emily wondered how long it had been there.
Maybe forever.
Maybe grief had simply removed the mask.
"What happens Sunday, Ruth?"
Ruth picked up the pink lunchbox.
She placed it on the table.
"Family comes over. We remember my son. We stop pretending this house has been normal since he died."
"What does that mean?"
"It means there are decisions to make."
"About what?"
"Khloe."
Emily's pulse jumped.
Ruth smiled.
"And you."
That night, Emily waited until the house was silent.
Then she went into Khloe's bedroom.
Her daughter was awake beneath a purple blanket.
Emily sat beside her.
"I'm not mad at you."
Khloe nodded.
"Grandma said you would be."
"Why?"
"Because I wrote your name."
Emily swallowed.
"What did she tell you it was for?"
Khloe looked frightened.
"She said grown ups have important papers and your hand gets tired."
Emily felt sick.
"How many times?"
Khloe lifted both hands.
"I don't know."
"Ten?"
A nod.
"Twenty?"
Another nod.
Emily's stomach tightened.
"More?"
Khloe whispered, "A lot."
"Where are the papers?"
"Grandma has them."
"Where?"
Khloe pointed toward the hallway.
"Her room."
Then she looked toward the closed bedroom door.
"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Grandma said if I did it good, Sunday would make everything easier."
Emily's mouth went dry.
"What would be easier?"
Khloe's eyes filled with tears.
"She said you wouldn't have to be my mommy all the time anymore."
May you like
Emily pulled her daughter into her arms.
For the first time since Daniel's funeral, grief stopped being the most frightening thing in the house.
