Chapter 5 - THE QUESTIONS GRANDMA PRACTICED
Lily’s first appointment with Dr. Nadia Ellis lasted fifty minutes.
Claire spent forty-eight of them in the waiting room trying not to imagine what her daughter might say.
Dr. Ellis was a licensed child psychologist in Norwalk with gray curls, sneakers, and an office containing more art supplies than furniture.
When Lily came out, she carried a small clay turtle.
Dr. Ellis asked Claire to stay behind briefly.
“I’m not going to give you a report of everything Lily said.”
“I understand.”
“But I do want to give you some guidance.”
Claire sat.
“Don’t question her repeatedly about her grandmother.”
Claire felt heat rise in her face.
“I’ve tried not to.”
“I believe you. Keep doing that.”
Dr. Ellis folded her hands.
“Lily seems to feel responsible for keeping adults calm. That’s more important right now than determining which adult said exactly what.”
Claire swallowed.
“Is she afraid of Diane?”
Dr. Ellis paused.
“She is afraid of disappointing her.”
That distinction hurt.
At home, Claire repaired the art project with Lily at the dining table.
She let Lily decide whether to replace the torn cardboard.
Lily chose not to.
“We can leave the rip,” she said.
“Okay.”
“Because it happened.”
Claire looked at her daughter.
“Okay.”
They worked quietly.
After several minutes Lily said, “Grandma said you might take me away from Dad.”
Claire put down the glue.
“When did she say that?”
“At her house.”
Claire remembered Dr. Ellis’s warning.
She kept her voice neutral.
“What did you say?”
“I said you didn’t tell me that.”
“What did Grandma say?”
“She said grown-ups don’t tell kids everything.”
Claire waited.
Lily added a yarn flower.
Then she said, “She asked what I would tell a judge.”
Claire’s fingers went still.
“What kind of thing?”
Lily shrugged.
“Who helps with homework. Who cooks. Who drives me places.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
“Did she tell you what answers to give?”
“No.”
A pause.
“Not exactly.”
Claire waited.
Lily whispered, “She said answers sound better when they’re simple.”
Claire stared at the cardboard house.
“And the bracelet?”
Lily touched her bare wrist.
“Grandma said I could wear it when I understood what family loyalty means.”
Claire closed her eyes briefly.
“Did Dad know about these talks?”
Lily hesitated longer this time.
“He waited in the car once.”
The answer cut deeper than Claire expected.
Not because Mark had been present.
Because he had stayed outside.
He had created distance from the thing he wanted done.
That evening Claire confronted him in the den.
He didn’t deny knowing Diane had discussed custody.
“I told her not to coach Lily.”
“You let her ask questions about judges.”
“She said she was trying to understand what Lily wanted.”
“She’s eight.”
“I know how old she is.”
“Do you?”
Mark stood.
“Stop.”
“No. You don’t get to be offended.”
“I was scared you were going to leave.”
“So you let your mother rehearse custody questions with our daughter?”
“I didn’t know it had gotten that far.”
Claire laughed once.
“Every sentence you say starts with you not knowing what your mother did with permission you gave her.”
Mark looked away.
Claire watched him.
“Where is my counseling folder?”
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“Did you read it?”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
Claire stopped moving.
The folder contained notes Claire had written after sessions with their marriage counselor.
Not transcripts.
Private thoughts.
Anger.
Questions.
One sentence she remembered word for word:
I don’t know if Mark can be my husband while he is still trying to be Diane’s good son.
Mark’s eyes filled.
“I shouldn’t have read it.”
“No.”
“I was desperate.”
“No.”
“I thought you’d already decided.”
Claire stepped back.
“You took my fear and used it as evidence.”
Mark reached toward her.
She moved away.
Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.
They both looked up.
Lily was standing halfway down the staircase.
She had heard enough.
Her eyes weren’t on Claire.
They were on Mark.
May you like
“Dad,” she asked quietly, “were you trying to make me choose?”
Mark’s face collapsed.
