Nana’s perfect eyebrows shoot up, her forehead barely wrinkling. “Oh? Money? I thought David handled the money and you were just flush with cash. Isn’t finance his ‘thing’?”
Ella is not a fan of her dad, but still her hands curl into fists at her sides while her mom breathes through her nose. She knew Nana was kind of an asshole, but she’s never seen it this out in the open.
“Yes, finance is his ‘thing.’ But it turns out he made some bad investments. I found out after they took him away for the Violence. I have no money.” She smiles, the kind of smile you give when you have nothing left to lose. “So there it is. Are you happy? I married a bad man who cheated on me, beat me, and lost all our money, and now I’m destitute. Just what you said would happen. Just what you always wanted.”
Nana’s eyes get big and fake-pitying, and she steps forward and brushes Mom’s hair back, cups her cheek. Mom does a good job of holding still, but Ella imagines this is how she would stand if a venomous snake was crawling over her foot.
“Oh, darling, I never wanted you to suffer. I wanted you to have a better life than mine.”
Chelsea steps back. “Don’t pretend you aren’t enjoying this.”
“How could I ever enjoy my child’s unhappiness?”
“I’ve asked myself that question for years and never could figure out an answer.”
Nana steps back, too, her eyes narrow and sly. She arranges the fruit sitting out in a ceramic bowl, moving around the apples and oranges and bananas that Ella is pretty sure no one ever eats. “The vaccine costs quite a lot of money, you know.”
“I know. I’ll pay you back.”
“Ninety thousand dollars for all three of you. You’re going to pay me back ninety thousand dollars, starting at zero today in the midst of a recession sparked by a pandemic, when you don’t even have a profession?”
“That’s a lot of words to say no, Mom.”
Brooklyn chooses that moment to dance back into the kitchen. She’s already managed to get candy stains on her dress, bright streaks of red and purple. “I like your jellybeans, Nana!” she says. “Did you know Mommy had to send herself to her room and not come out?”
Mom and Ella exchange glances. Mom goes pale under her foundation.
“Oh really?” Nana bends over, hands on her thighs, and gives Brooklyn the brightest, chummiest smile Ella has ever seen her use. “Tell me more.”
“Nothing to tell,” Mom says, swooping over to pick up Brooklyn and hug her close. “I had the flu, and it turned into bronchitis. You know, how I always do.”
But Brooklyn loves being the center of attention, and she’s been locked up with only Ella for weeks, and there’s no way to stop her. She twists in Mom’s grasp to face Nana, who’s now upright, arms crossed. “No you didn’t! You got mad because Olaf ran away and we had to put the couch against your door.”
Nana shakes her head at Mom like a disappointed teacher. “Chelsea. You’re infected, and you didn’t turn yourself in? Why, that’s against the law. Thank goodness the judge isn’t here.”
Ella slides closer to her mom. Up until now, she was scared that her mom would suddenly go feral and try to kill her, but now she’s more worried about what her grandmother is going to do with this information.
“I just want my girls to be safe,” Mom says, head hanging over Brooklyn’s shoulder as if the hope has drained out of her. “David’s getting out of quarantine soon, and we need…we can’t be there when he comes home. He came after us with a baseball bat.”
A good grandmother, a kind grandmother, the kind of grandmother other people all seem to have would now invite them to stay with her in her huge mansion behind the tall gate and pay for their vaccinations and fix things.
But that is not the kind of grandmother Nana is. Her smile curls in again, and she runs a hand down Brooklyn’s back.
“How would you like to stay here with Nana, sweetheart?” she coos.
“That would be fun!” Brooklyn nearly shouts. “Could I swim in the pool? And watch movies? And eat candy?”
Mom turns to the side so Nana is no longer touching Brooklyn. “How long can we stay with you?” she asks, skittish as a wild cat.
Brooklyn wriggles and fights in Mom’s grasp until Mom has to let her down. She runs over to Nana and leans against her hip, and Nana puts a protective arm around her.
“Well, you’ll need to go find a job, won’t you, darling? I’ll take care of the girls while you get yourself back on your feet. You can stay in the pool house, now that Rosa and Miguel are gone.” Her eyes light up with glee. “You could even take on their responsibilities. Cleaning, cooking, yardwork. You were doing most of that for David, weren’t you?”
Mom is shaking now, her hands in fists. “I will not be your…your…servant!”
“Oh, so you’re too proud to do work?” Nana strokes Brooklyn’s hair, the gentleness of her touch the complete opposite of the venom in her voice. “Not like me at your age, working my fingers to the bone on double shifts, slopping hash at the diner to take care of you? You don’t love your daughters enough to debase yourself with menial labor, like I did?”
“I love them more than you ever loved me!” Mom hisses, clearly trying to keep her cool for Brooklyn’s sake and very nearly failing. “But I won’t give you the satisfaction of having me under your heel again. Your criticisms, your sharp words, your undermining. I didn’t leave an abusive husband just to fall back under the thumb of an abusive, narcissistic mother.”
The words hang in the air, one more thing that can’t be taken back.
“Well, if that’s how you feel,” Nana starts with grim finality. She pauses and looks at Ella as she continues to stroke Brooklyn’s hair, and Ella takes a step closer to her mother, wishing she were young enough to hide behind her, because whatever Nana is thinking is not good.
“If that’s how you feel, how about this. I’ll vaccinate the girls, but you have to leave them with me. I’ll do my best to fix whatever garbage nonsense you’ve put in their heads.” She frowns down at the jellybean stains on her khaki shorts. “And teach them the basics of hygiene. We leave for Iceland next week, so they’ll be perfectly safe.”
“And what about me?” Mom asks, sounding lost and young and…God, hurt. So hurt. Ella wants to hug her mom as if she were the bigger one.
Nana’s eyebrows go up. “You? You’re infected. Unsafe. You said you could pay me back, so go out and earn your own vaccine. I offered you a job, and you turned it down. Find someone else with a better opportunity. That’s how finance works.”
Mom closes her eyes and tries to hold herself together, and it’s embarrassing and sad, watching Nana gloat as Mom falls apart.
“That’s not fair,” Ella says, the words falling out before she can stop herself.