Chapter 8 - The Rules Inside Her Suitcase
“Not coming home for Christmas?”
Luca looked toward Vanessa.
She was still kneeling beside Molly.
Her face had gone pale.
“Sweetheart, I never said you couldn't come home.”
Molly frowned.
“You said you and Luca would be busy.”
Vanessa looked down.
“I said we might be traveling.”
“And Aunt Lila said I could stay.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
Michael stood.
“You told me she'd return after the school year.”
“I was going to arrange something.”
“When?”
“I don't know, Michael!”
Molly flinched.
Vanessa immediately stopped.
The little girl stepped backward.
I held out my hand.
She took it.
Luca looked at the adults.
“That's enough.”
His voice wasn't loud.
But the room became silent.
He knelt in front of Molly.
“Sweetheart, nobody is deciding where you spend Christmas tonight.”
She looked worried.
“What about Monday?”
“We're going to make sure you have a safe place to stay and keep going to your school.”
Molly glanced toward Vanessa.
“Can I see Mrs. Collins?”
“Your teacher?” Luca asked.
She nodded.
“I have my spelling test.”
Despite everything, I smiled.
“Then I think we should make sure you get to take it.”
Molly's face brightened.
“I'm good at spelling.”
“I bet you are.”
“I know beautiful.”
“That's a hard one.”
She grinned.
“B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L.”
Luca smiled.
“Perfect.”
For a moment, she was simply seven years old again.
Not a secret.
Not an inconvenience.
Just a little girl proud of knowing a long word.
Mrs. Carter brought her a clean napkin.
Then she offered to help Molly change into pajamas in the adjoining sitting area, where she could still see us.
Molly agreed.
Before leaving, she handed me a folded sheet of notebook paper.
“Can you keep this?”
I looked down.
“What is it?”
“My rules.”
I felt cold.
“What rules?”
“The ones I have to remember.”
She smiled shyly.
“I wrote them so I wouldn't forget.”
Then she followed Mrs. Carter.
I unfolded the paper.
The handwriting was large.
Some letters were backward.
At the top, she'd written:
BE GOOD.
Underneath were five lines.
Don't say Mommy at parties.
Don't ask Daddy to come.
Don't tell people my last name.
Don't cry when I'm alone.
Don't make trouble.
I read the list twice.
Then I handed it to Luca.
His expression changed with every line.
When he reached the last one, he sat down.
For a long moment, he didn't speak.
Then he placed the paper on the table.
“Vanessa.”
She looked up.
“Did you tell her to write this?”
Vanessa stared at it.
“No.”
“Did you tell her these things?”
Her eyes filled.
“Not like that.”
Luca waited.
“I told her she needed to be quiet at events. I told her not to interrupt Michael when he was working.”
“And the part about crying?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don't know where she got that.”
I remembered Molly sitting behind the locked door.
Asking whether I could stay because she was frightened when nobody spoke.
“She told me she didn't want to get you in trouble,” I said.
Vanessa looked toward me.
“She was afraid to ask for water.”
Her face crumpled.
“I didn't know.”
I wanted to be angry.
Part of me was.
But another part could see something terrible happening.
Vanessa was finally beginning to understand the distance between what she'd intended and what Molly had experienced.
She'd told herself she was protecting her daughter from judgment.
Molly had heard that she was someone to be ashamed of.
Michael picked up the paper.
His hands shook.
“Don't ask Daddy to come.”
He stared at the words.
“I told her once that I couldn't leave work every time she wanted to see me.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Was she asking you to leave work every day?”
He shook his head.
“She wanted me at her school play.”
“Did you go?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He stared at the paper.
“I had a meeting.”
Evelyn took a slow breath.
“And was the meeting more important?”
Michael didn't answer.
Teresa came beside him.
“Children remember who comes.”
Michael began crying.
Not loudly.
He lowered his head and covered his eyes.
Nobody comforted him.
Not because we were cruel.
Because the little girl deserved our attention more than his guilt did.
Luca looked toward Vanessa.
“I loved you.”
She began crying.
“I love you.”
He shook his head.
“But I don't know how to marry somebody who could let her child believe those things.”
Vanessa pressed a hand against her mouth.
“Luca, please.”
He looked away.
For the first time, I thought their engagement might truly be over.
But he didn't make that decision in front of Molly.
Instead, he asked Vanessa to come with him toward the fireplace, away from the little girl.
“You and Michael need to decide whether you're finally ready to be her parents,” he said quietly.
Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
“I am.”
“Then she needs more than words.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
“Monday's trip needs to be canceled. Her school needs to know she's staying. And she needs adults who won't disappear when things become uncomfortable.”
Vanessa looked toward her daughter.
“I can do that.”
Luca studied her.
“You have to.”
Mrs. Carter returned with Molly in pale-blue pajamas.
The little girl had taken off her red shoes.
She carried both in one hand.
She looked sleepy.
“Grace?”
I smiled.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Can I sit with Mommy?”
I glanced toward Vanessa.
Her eyes filled.
“Of course, baby.”
Molly climbed into her lap.
Vanessa wrapped both arms around her.
For a moment, I thought everything might be all right.
Then Molly looked up.
She touched her mother's cheek.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
May you like
Her voice was so small that everyone leaned closer.
“If I call you Mommy tomorrow, will you still want me?”
