Then I saw Sarah on her knees in front of Lisa’s chair, and my anger stumbled over confusion.
She was not hurting her. She was fastening a support frame along the sides of the seat and lower back, sleek and padded, with straps, brackets, and careful adjustments that looked exact to be random.
It looked expensive. It looked custom. It looked like planning.
I still saw red.
“What is wrong with you?” I shouted at Maya. “Who is this, and why is she in my house?”
Sarah stood slowly and lifted hands.
Advertisement
Maya burst into tears so fast it almost made me angrier.
“I can explain.”
“No. You can pack your things and leave.”
Sarah stood slowly and lifted hands.
“You have every right to be furious.”
“Don’t talk to me like we know each other.”
“Did anyone hurt you?”
“We don’t. Not really,” she said.
Advertisement
Lisa looked from one face to the other.
“Mom?”
I dropped beside her chair so my knees hit the rug.
“Baby, are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?”
Lisa blinked.
I stood and pointed at the door.
“No.”
I checked her anyway, hands shaking against her shoulders, her arms, the blanket across her lap.
Advertisement
“Did they do anything without asking?”
“I only adjusted the support under her hips and lower spine,” Sarah said. “Nothing painful.”
“I wasn’t asking you. I can say from experioence that you’d never do anything to help someone else.”
I stood and pointed at the door.
“Please just first hear me out.”
“Out. Now.”
Then Maya spoke in a small, broken voice.
Leave a Comment