“We already decided.”
My father’s words remained between us as headlights swept across the porch.
Grant’s car stopped behind mine, boxing it into the driveway.
He stepped out without a coat, carrying himself like a man arriving to correct an inconvenience rather than face the family he had betrayed.
I set my suitcase beside my feet and activated the recorder on my phone.
Then I slipped it into my coat pocket.
The red light disappeared beneath the fabric just as my father removed the security chain.
For one hopeful second, I thought he was opening the door for the children.
Instead, he stepped onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind him.
Grant approached with his hands raised.
“Rebecca, enough.
Put the kids in my car.”
Lily moved closer to me.
Ethan wrapped both arms around his dinosaur blanket.
Grace had stopped crying, but her face was pressed against Lily’s shoulder.
“They are not getting into your car,” I said.
Grant looked at my father as though I were not there.
“See what I mean? She isn’t thinking clearly.”
My father nodded.
That nod hurt more than the locked door.
I had expected anger from Grant.
I had expected denial, excuses, perhaps even tears.
I had not expected him to turn my parents into an audience before I could reach them.
“What exactly did he tell you?” I asked my father.
“That you received something upsetting and panicked.”
“Photographs of my husband with another woman are not ‘something upsetting.’ They are evidence.”
Grant exhaled loudly.
“We were going through a difficult time.”
I looked at him.
“You promised her you would leave me after Christmas.”
My mother opened the door again, but the chain remained attached.
“Please lower your voices,” she whispered.
“The neighbors will hear.”
There it was.
Not concern for Lily, Ethan, or Grace.
Concern for the neighbors.
Grant stepped closer.
“This is exactly why we need to go home and talk privately.”
“There is nothing private left,” I said.
“Vanessa called me herself.”
His expression changed at the sound of her name.
It was not shame.
It was irritation that she had broken whatever schedule he had created.
My father folded his arms.
“A marriage of fourteen years deserves more than one angry night.”
“It deserved a faithful husband.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“Your father is trying to help you.”
“No.
He is helping you control the story.”
Grant glanced at the children and softened his voice.
“Lily, take your brother and sister to my car.”
Lily did not move.
He tried again.
“Come on, sweetheart.”
She stared at him with an expression I had never seen on her face before.
