Chapter 2 - The ride to urgent care
My first instinct was to demand an explanation from my mother.
My second was to get Grace out.
The second won.
“Jason.”
Natalie’s husband stood behind two guests.
He looked stunned.
“What?”
“Where are Grace’s shoes?”
“I’ll get them.”
Natalie pushed herself upright.
“You are not walking out after kicking me.”
I looked at her.
“Yes, I am.”
“You assaulted me.”
“You hit my child.”
“I did not hit her like that.”
Grace started crying harder.
That ended the conversation.
My mother said:
“Claire, just wait.”
“No.”
“If everyone calms down—”
I turned.
“She has a swollen face.”
Mom stopped.
Owen still held the paper crown.
Natalie reached for him.
“Go downstairs.”
He stepped backward.
“No.”
That surprised everyone.
Especially Natalie.
Jason found Grace’s shoes and handed them to me.
I did not put them on her.
I carried her outside.
One arm beneath her knees.
Her face against my shoulder.
“Mommy, am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“For the crown?”
“No.”
“She said I ruined his birthday.”
I stopped beside my car.
“You did not ruin anything.”
“She said I always make everything about me.”
My jaw tightened.
“Did Aunt Natalie say that?”
Grace nodded.
“What else?”
She looked frightened.
I stopped asking.
Not in a parking lot.
Not when she was hurt.
I buckled her into the back seat and called her father.
My ex-husband, Ryan.
We had been divorced two years.
Shared legal custody.
Grace lived primarily with me because Ryan traveled for commercial construction projects, but he had regular parenting time and was involved.
He answered.
“Hey.”
“Natalie hurt Grace.”
Silence.
“What?”
“I’m taking her to urgent care.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll explain there.”
“Where?”
I told him.
“I’m coming.”
My mother called before I reached the end of Natalie’s street.
I ignored it.
Then Natalie.
Ignored.
Then Jason.
I answered.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
I said nothing.
“I didn’t see what happened in the bathroom.”
“Then don’t tell me what happened.”
“I’m not.”
He sounded exhausted.
“Owen told me Natalie dragged Grace down the hall.”
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Dragged?”
“He said she grabbed her arms.”
I looked at Grace in the rearview mirror.
She was holding both forearms against her stomach.
“Did Owen see the bathroom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t question him.”
“I know.”
“Jason.”
“Yes?”
“Do not let Natalie pressure him about what he says.”
Long silence.
Then:
May you like
“I won’t.”
That answer mattered more than I knew at the time.
