No one answered her. They just looked at one another.
“A delusion?” Daddy asked quietly.
“Your dad thinks so,” Nana said. “Hopefully.”
“She’s made her feelings pretty clear,” Daddy said. “Lexi, I mean. She’s probably in Florida with Eva.”
Grace reached over and put her hand in his back pocket. It made her feel connected to him, even if he hardly noticed. “Who’s Lexi?” she asked again.
“Mildred’s niece is back from school,” Daddy said. “She has dark brown hair.”
“I’m sure that’s who it was,” Nana said.
Grace bounced a little on the bed rail. The metal clanged. It bugged her that no one was paying attention to her. “I saw a baby with four arms,” she said. “He’s in the nursery.”
“Why don’t you take Gracie home, Zach?” Nana said. “She’s been really good.”
Grace slithered down from her perch and went to the desk, where she gathered up all her pictures and crayons. Taking one drawing of a butterfly on a flower, she handed it to her Nana. “This is for you.”
Nana stared at the picture. “Thanks, Gracie. I feel better already.”
“They’re magic crayons. They make anyone better. That’s why the hospital has ’em,” Grace said earnestly. “The yellow ones can fly.”
“Come on, Grace,” Daddy said. He gathered all their things together and took her out to the car.
She climbed into the car seat in the back, and he strapped her in.
All the way home, Grace talked to her daddy.
She’d been quiet for hours, and she had so much to say. She told him about the new game Ariel had taught her and the sand dollar she’d found by the playhouse and about the new friend she’d made today and the seagull that had landed right in front of her.
“Look, Daddy,” Grace said, sitting up straighter as they drove through town. “There she is. There’s my new friend. Hi!” Grace yelled at the closed window, waving furiously. “Did you see her, Daddy? That’s a cool bike she has. It’s magic. I think she’s a movie star. She said she ate an ostrich once.”
Daddy kept driving. A few minutes later, he turned into their driveway and parked.
“You believe me about the ostrich lady, don’t you? She says she—”
“Enough, Gracie. No pretending tonight, okay? Daddy’s had a tough day.”
“I wasn’t pretending,” Grace said, stung by the accusation. She dragged her blanket off the seat beside her and wrapped it around her neck. Her daddy was in one of those moods where he wasn’t listening to her; even when he looked at her, she got the feeling he wasn’t paying attention. Like he was seeing someone else in his head. And he looked sad.
Grace had grown up around sad. She knew it was best to stay quiet and cuddle when he was like this. But she’d been quiet all day, and she was desperate to talk to someone. To him.
In the house, Grace went right to the fridge and pulled out the heavy casserole Nana had made. She worked really hard not to drop it. “This goes in the oven, Daddy,” she said, holding it out proudly.
He took it from her and put it in the oven. “I’m going to go take a shower. I’ll put a DVD in for you.”
She started to say she didn’t want to watch a movie, but he was already turning away, going into the living room.
She climbed up onto the sofa with her blanket and sucked her thumb. No one was paying any attention to her, anyway. It seemed like Daddy took the longest shower in the world, and, when he was done and walking around in his baggy sweat pants, with his wet hair dripping onto the red USC T-shirt, she followed him around, talking about anything she could think of.
“On the way to the hospital, I got to sit in the front of Papa’s car. We followed the am’blance. And he let me drive … just onto the ferry. I went really slow. I’m a good driver. I saw a killer whale eat a seal. It was gross.”