He squeezes me again and then tilts his head as he sees something over my shoulder. Then he chuckles low and pulls back with a wicked grin. “Feel up to a game?”
I glance over at the corner where I keep my glass chess set. It’s tucked to the side on a small table because it’s been a while since I’ve had anyone to play with at home. Mama used to play, but once I started beating her consistently we both lost interest, and she became too busy with work. The idea of playing a game with Daddy, using real pieces, in my own bedroom, spreads warmth through my chest.
I grin at him. “Only if we can use this pretty one instead of the one we used at Polunsky. I’ve had more than enough paper cuts, thank you.”
He moves to my table and helps me clear off the other things cluttering it. When we both sit down, he has a competitive twinkle in his eye. “Let the match begin.”
36
“CHECKMATE,” I WHISPER, almost in shock as I scan the board again to be certain I didn’t miss anything. Once I’m sure, I raise my eyes to Daddy’s. He’s still staring at the board with a puzzled frown on his face, but when he lifts his eyes to mine, he smiles.
“Indeed.” He examines the board again, looking slightly shocked. “You beat me.”
It’s our second game. Daddy beat me soundly in the first one. This time the result is the opposite. I see Mama standing in the doorway with a wide grin on her face and her eyes on me.
“Looks like you’ve finally met your match,” she says to Daddy and he laughs almost to himself.
I suddenly realize I’ve been hogging him since he got home, and maybe Daddy and Mama need some time together, too.
“I’m exhausted, though.” I don’t have to fake the yawn, but I need to embellish a bit. “I think I need to go to bed.”
Daddy comes around to hug me. “I guess you’re too old to need to be tucked in anymore.”
I laugh. “Maybe … but that doesn’t mean you can’t still do it.”
*
After my parents tuck me in, I try to get comfortable, but my brain refuses to slow down. Sleep won’t come. Just as I’m finally starting to drift off hours later, I hear them arguing. It’s only an occasional raised voice, not specific words because they both seem to be making an effort not to let me hear. If I’d already been asleep, it probably wouldn’t have woken me, but instead of sleeping soundly, I’m awake and now a spectator to a show that I’m not supposed to see. I creep out of bed and over to my door; I open it slightly and sit against the wall beside it, listening.
“How could you tell her something like that?” Mama says in the closest thing to a shouted whisper I’ve ever heard.
“I’ve already explained myself and apologized, Amy.” His response is normal volume and I have to strain to hear it, but there is enormous tension in his voice.
“Fine.” Mama sounds like she’s finally releasing years’ worth of pent-up frustration. “But you need to know, I’m stronger than I was before, David. I won’t put up with the things you did back then anymore. If you cheat again, Riley and I will be gone forever.”
“Don’t threaten me,” Daddy snarls and I almost jump up to stop them, but his voice drops back to normal almost immediately. “We both made mistakes, don’t forget that.”
Mama doesn’t answer for a bit and I can hear the injured note in her voice when she does. “You wouldn’t ever let me, would you?” Before he can respond, she goes on. “I’m sorry. I’ve said it a million times. Don’t turn your back on me again, David. His name was Andrew, and I pay every day for what happened, but it was an accident.”
They go on like this for hours. Arguing about anything and everything in voices just low enough that I know they think I can’t hear them. My dream for any future as a family becomes more and more trampled beneath each word. At one point the arguing slows.
“Riley has to be our only focus now.” Mama sounds exhausted, and I wonder why they don’t just go to bed.
“Always,” Daddy answers, and my last thought before sleep overcomes me is that it’s nice to see them agree about something.
At some point in the darkness of night, Daddy comes in and finds me curled up with a pillow beside my barely open bedroom door. I’m surprised at how strong he still is when he picks me up and carries me back into my bed.
“I’m sorry, Riley.” He kisses my cheek, but I’m still too far from fully awake to respond. “I promise I will make this better.”
*
By the time I wake up, it’s late afternoon and the house is quiet. A note sits on the counter from my parents. Daddy went shopping for a car and some new clothes that will fit him better. Mama went with him apparently, which is probably a good sign.
After eating, showering, and checking my phone again for any other word from Jordan, I get ready and then pick up a book Mama bought for me a couple of years ago. She called it a “happy book.” She thought it would be better for me than reading The Count of Monte Cristo again. I hadn’t even read the back cover at the time, but I want to now.