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Chapter Thirty-Six
Grace
Being in solitary, there’s not much to do.I keep asking to see my children, but I keep getting the same answer.Everything in time.
One afternoon, after what feels like an eternity, otherwise known as eleven days, the two officers who came before show up.
It’s Wagnon who escorts me from my tiny, cell-like room to an office where there is a table and chairs and nothing more.
I feel fear in the pit of my stomach.Have they come with news about Charles?Have they found him?And what if the news isn't good?What am I going to do about it from in here?The answer is: not much.
Wagnon takes a seat in the corner, her old face scrunched up like a shriveled raisin.
“We’d like to revisit a few things,” the officer says, motioning toward a chair.“Please take a seat.”
I slide the chair from the table and sit down, eyeing the two of them cautiously.They’re seated side by side, hands resting on the table.Like twins, only one is very tall, the other very short.It looks funny, only in the sense that it’s the first interesting thing I’ve seen in more than a week and a half.
“We heard what happened,” the shorter one says.“How unfortunate.”
“Yes.”I lean back in my seat and try to suck a deep breath in.“It earned me this,” I say, nodding at the straitjacket.It reminds me of my favorite dress and Willow Lane.It reminds me of the woman standing in front of her neighbors, full of shame and embarrassment at the situation in which she’d found, or rather had lost herself.What I wouldn’t give to be her again.To have an ill-fitting dress be the worst of my problems.It feels like a lifetime ago.I think of Elizabeth and the way she looked when she said:“Oh, Grace.You’re so privileged.You have no idea that there are far worse things out there than there are in here.”
She was right.
“What do you think?”I ask the officers.“This new jacket of mine, does it suit me?”
They both laugh.
“We haven’t come to talk about that,” the tall one says.“We have a few questions we’d like to ask you, if that’s all right with you.”
The way he says that makes me think he doesn’t think it’s all right.The way he says it makes me feel like it’s not all right and that he wants to prove thatnothingis all right.It’s like his voice is a prelude to something that I’m not interested in hearing.
The short one adjusts his tie and leans over the table.“We just have a few questions and then we’ll be on our way.We’re only trying to help you understand.Is that all right with you?”
“I can’t wait,” I drawl and then stop, because I realize sarcasm isn't going to get me anywhere with these two.
I’m not sure why the words pop into my head.Maybe it’s because these guys feel so intrusive.Or maybe it’s because they haven’t said anything that makes me think they have my best interests in mind, or maybe it’s because I’ve been stuck in that tiny cell, alone, for eleven days, not knowing what’s going on with my children or where my husband is, or why so many bad things have had to happen.Maybe it’s because I’m afraid they’ll take me away from here, and God only knows what prison is like.Is it worse than this?Can anything be worse than this?
Maybe I’m just tired of being terrified, and maybe it’s because of the way they look at me, the way the tall one stares at me like he’s trying to calculate something.
Officer Druggs, his name tag reads.I scoff at the irony.
It’s Officer Sloan who speaks next.His expression tells me it’s time to get down to business; that the window for small talk has closed.“The day after your family disappeared,” he says, “they found Charles’s car six miles from your home.”
I nod.He isn’t exactly asking me a question, and I don’t know what to say.
“Their suitcases were still inside,” Druggs states.
“Yes.”
“What did you make of this?”
“We were getting ready to go on vacation.Charles had packed the car the night before.I didn’t think anything, really.”
They seem to sense my lie.When the car was found, I was with Phillip in the hospital.
“You were with the baby overnight?”
“Yes.”
