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“I’m not so sure about that. We can’t just let her call the shots around here on account of—”
“Daddy?” My daughter’s voice was followed by her sleepy face peeking around the bathroom door.
“Go back to bed, Eleanor,” Nina said with gritted teeth.
“Daddy.”
“Your father is in the shower. He’s had a long day.”
“Hey, pancake.” I stuck my neck out from around the shower door. “Go back to bed, and I’ll come ’round in a minute to tuck you in.”
“Promise,” Ellie said, her brows raised toward the ceiling. My daughter only ever spoke a handful of words, but she was recognizing more and more every day, a positive sign.
“Promise.”
Nina huffed and slunk down into the water, all the way to her nose. After a several-second stare down to ensure I was telling the truth, Ellie retreated, closing the door behind her.
“You see?” Nina snapped, grabbing a towel. I watched her, with heavy focus on the curve of her left hip as she hightailed it out of the bathtub. “You give into her. It’s no wonder she doesn’t respect me in the least.”
“Mommy says you misbehaved today?” I whispered to my daughter in the dark. I needed her to give me something— anything—to take back to her mother. I do all right with my work. But I am not a man of unlimited means. I cannot afford to send my daughter to boarding school, or anywhere else. Not even if I wanted that, which I absolutely don’t. My wife, on the other hand, had been doing her research. She dropped hints like breadcrumbs. Nina had made it clear: she believed our daughter would be better off somewhere else, and she wanted me to believe it too. I could understand her position, even if I couldn’t agree with it. Our daughter was getting in the way of her work, and Nina’s first love has always been her career.
“Ellie,” I repeated. “How was your day? Did you listen when Mommy said to put on your coat?”
Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I’d later swear that Ellie shook her head.
“Listen, El,” I said, “It’s very important that you do what your mother tells you. If it’s cold outside, you wear a jacket—if you’re running late, your mother gets to tie your shoes. And you know—I know you know—breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
She smiled in the dark, her profile lit by the rainbow light Jonathan had given her for Christmas. Her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling. I sometimes wondered whether she heard me at all. “Promise me, El—that you’ll listen to your mother—and Joanie too. Mommy can’t rush home from work because you’re not listening.”
I wasn’t expecting a response so I leaned down and kissed her forehead, and pulled the covers tight around her. I tucked them into the mattress as her physical therapist suggested. My daughter’s eyes did not meet mine. Aside from the hint of a smile, she gave little indication that she knew I was there at all. “Goodnight, Eleanor.”
I was just about to close the door when I could swear I heard her raspy little voice say, “Promise.”
I found Nina propped up in bed, the covers pulled up around her.
“She’s talking a bit more,” I said to her, sliding the covers back. She held up one of her perfect fingers to stop me from speaking. Her eyes scanned the screen on her phone, quickly. No doubt she was doing more of her in-depth research, and no doubt, given her level of anger, she was about to let me have it with both barrels.
“Nina?” I said climbing into the bed. “This is important. We need to talk.”
Eventually, she looked up and over at me. “Things don’t just get to be important whenever you want them to be.”
I was wrong. That night wasn’t going to be one of our usual fights. It was going to be the silent treatment. Hence the dinner plate left in the fridge. It wasn’t a peace offering. It was a sign. “I understand that.”
“So?”
“So, I was trying to talk to you about our daughter.”
Her mouth opened and then closed before opening again. She wanted to fight but even she didn’t know if she had it in her. “Since when do you care?”
“Come on,” I said, keeping my tone even, the way I do with my elderly patients when I’m trying to coax them to do something they don’t want to do. “You know that’s not fair.”
She pulled the covers tighter around her, her arms folded across her chest. Her favorite defensive posture. “Fine, then. What? What is suddenly so important?”
“Ellie—she’s speaking more.”
“And?”
“And it’s a new skill. It could explain some of the behavior.”
