Chapter 3 - The Blue Box and the Breaking Point
When we arrived at Diane’s house, Mark was already waiting on the porch.
He looked pale.
“She called me.”
“And?”
“She says we’re making this into something bigger than it is.”
“Of course she thinks that.”
Emma held my hand as we walked inside.
Diane was standing in the living room.
The blue box rested on the coffee table.
I pointed toward it.
“Open it.”
Diane folded her arms.
“You’re acting like a lunatic.”
“Open the box.”
Mark stepped closer.
“Mom.”
Something in his tone finally made her move.
She raised the lid.
Inside were three tiny envelopes. Each one had a date from the four days I’d been gone.
My stomach dropped.
I picked one up.
There was a tooth inside.
And another.
“Why did you keep them?”
Diane sighed.
“For the Tooth Fairy.”
“Then why didn’t Emma have them?”
“I was planning to let her put them beneath her pillow one at a time.”
Emma suddenly spoke up.
“You said I couldn’t keep them.”
Diane looked toward her.
“I said Grandma would take care of them.”
“No.”
Emma stepped behind my arm.
“You said they were ugly.”
Diane’s expression tightened.
“Emma, that’s not what I meant.”
“She told me not to smile.”
Mark stared at his mother.
“What?”
Emma was crying now.
“She took a picture and said I looked funny because you could see the crooked ones.”
Mark’s face turned white.
I remembered Diane’s final remark.
Ask Emma why she kept coming back.
Now I understood exactly what she’d been doing.
She wasn’t simply removing teeth.
She’d been convincing Emma that something was wrong with her until a seven-year-old believed allowing Grandma to “fix” her was better than looking ugly.
Mark picked up the blue box.
“You’re done.”
Diane laughed once.
“Don’t pretend you’re innocent. You told me to handle it.”
I turned toward Mark.
“What?”
His expression shifted.
“I told her if one was already coming out, she could handle it. I never thought she’d pull anything that wasn’t ready.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew you’d say no.”
“Because you knew Emma didn’t like it.”
He looked toward our daughter.
“I know.”
Then he faced Diane.
“Look at her.”
For once, Diane actually did.
Emma immediately covered her mouth.
Mark’s voice cracked.
“She never used to do that.”
Diane said nothing.
“She smiled in every photo. She smiled at strangers. She smiled with food stuck between her teeth. And now she’s covering her mouth because of you.”
“I was only trying to help her.”
“No,” Mark said. “You were trying to change her.”
Diane turned toward me.
“I love that little girl.”
“Then you should’ve listened when she told you no.”
“I knew what was best.”
“She’s not your daughter.”
Diane flinched.
Mark placed the lid back onto the blue box.
“You won’t be alone with her anymore.”
“Mark.”
“No.”
His voice remained calm.
That seemed to frighten her more than shouting ever could have.
“And whether she has any relationship with you after this depends on what Emma feels comfortable with. And if she does, you will never comment on her teeth, her hair, her body, her clothes, or whether she looks pretty enough for a photograph.”
Diane turned toward me.
“You’re really going to let him do this?”
May you like
I almost laughed.
“You still believe I’m the problem.”
