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Rainey’s still sobbing on the couch and I know there’s only one thing to do. “We’ve got to call Chase,” I tell Noah.
“I’ll call him in the morning.”
“I’d be more comfortable if you called him now. He may want to come over and document the state of your house.”
Her head hangs, and she latches onto Rainey even harder, patting and rubbing the back of her scared niece, offering what comfort she can.
“I don’t want to cause more problems than I already have with my brother,” Noah whispers, so low I can barely make out her words.
“Your responsibility is to Rainey.Thisisn’t safe. Not forher, not foryou, and not forus.” All the reasons I didn’t want Dunbar around sit on the tip of my tongue, but I suggested they have the visit, so I feel at fault.
I search for ideas to distract Rainey and keep Maggie upstairs. “Ok for me to move the TV from your bedroom into Rae’s? We need to calm her down—distraction may be our best bet.”
Rainey stops bawling long enough to agree to climb into bed with Maggie and watch a movie. Her wailing has aggravated her cough. She cuddles next to my daughter, and I pray it’s the distraction she needs. Noah and I sit on the top step, close enough to hear any noises coming from Rainey’s bedroom, but far enough away to talk freely, while we wait for Chase to arrive.
Noah works to keep herself calm, recounting the visit to me from start to finish. Her fists clench in frustration. Rainey was overjoyed to see her dad, but Dunbar was on edge from the beginning of their visit. His daughter’s enthusiasm, begging him to play with her, only increased his irritability. Noah makes it a point to tell me he didn’t say a cross word to either of them, but the visit quickly deteriorated with his foul mood.
“He decided to leave early, and on his way out, he asked if I could give him another hundred dollars to hold him over until he gets paid next week.”
“Another hundred? Did you give him money recently?” It’s none of my business what Noah does with her money, but I want to make sure I understand what happened.
“Yeah.” She sighs and rubs her hands down her face. “At the library. He pulled me aside and said the friend he’s living with doesn’t have groceries and guilted me into helping him out with cash to buy food.”
A working theory on what’s happened here is developing for me, but I keep it to myself. “How’d he act at your last visit? I thought it went okay?”
“Itwasokay. Maybe not as friendly as our initial meeting, but Rainey had fun, and there was no fighting.”
One fact I’ve read in news stories about addiction stands out to me at this moment. Family members consistently note their loved ones’ moods and entire personalities shift when they lose access to the substance they abuse.
Chase arrives half an hour later, nearly two hours after Dunbar threw a vase of roses full force at Noah’s dining room wall when she refused to give him more money. It chills me when she tells Chase she was standing just a few feet to the right of where the vase made contact. I know it was aimed at her.
Noah’s fidgety, clenching and unclenching her hands as Chase fills out a report to file with the judge handling Dunbar’s release. She objects to taking this in front of a judge, telling Chase the same story I heard earlier about not wanting to cause more problems with her brother.
“That’s not an option. This isassault. As Rainey’s caseworker, I’m legally required to report this.” He stands and takes another look at the scene, taking a few photos. “Rainey saw all of this?” Noah nods, a tear dripping down her cheek. “The judge may want to talk to her. She’s your only witness.”
Noah blows out a long breath, something I’ve learned is her marker of high stress. My stomach rolls, knowing the word ‘witness’ should never be associated with a child.
It’s late when Chase leaves. I pop back into Rainey’s bedroom and find both girls asleep in the twin bed with the TV still playing in the background. Noah wraps her arms around me from behind.
“I’m sleeping in here with them tonight.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“Sounds good,” I move my arm, pulling her to slide to my side. “You know where I’ll be if you need me.”
We move through our morning routine like mindless robots, still reeling from the previous evening’s events. While I’m not angryatNoah, I’m angry at the situation. Maggie’s safety and happiness are my unconditional priority. Until this point, I’ve not exposed her to a shred of the bullshit Dunbar’s stirred up. I have to find the words to make it clear to Noah that I’m not blaming her brother’s actions on her. She carries enough, and I don’t want to add to her guilt.
Noah debates keeping Rainey home another day, but her cough’s improved enough that she’s probably better off being at school with her peers. Rainey’s mood is off, but she’s no longer visibly upset.
I’m relieved to find Maggie and Rainey both in a good mood when I pick them up in the afternoon. I keep the smiles on their faces going the entire drive home by streaming theTrollsplaylist—I don’t care that it’s music from a kid’s movie, it’s an almost perfect album. We’re all still singing along as I pull into the garage.
“One more!” Rainey hollers at me. After last night, I couldn’t turn her down if I wanted to, so we sit in the parked car and jam out to another song.
“Is anyone going to tell me how school was today?” I ask, unbuckling the girls from their booster seats. They chatter behind me as we walk up the garage stairs leading to the mudroom entrance.
“And my teacher said we can watch a movie tomorrow if we were good today. And we were good. Right, Maggie?”
“Yep, we were go—”
“Girls.” I shout. “Get back inside the car. Right now.”
