Chapter 5 - THE SCHOOL HAD NOT SAID WHAT PAMELA CLAIMED
Matilda ran straight into my arms.
Her teacher followed.
“She had a difficult morning.”
Matilda stared at the ground.
“What happened?”
“She was unusually restless. She said her heart was beating very fast.”
“Did the nurse check?”
“Yes.”
“Elevated?”
“Yes.”
“Please send me the record.”
The teacher nodded.
“She also became very upset over a marker.”
“How unusual is that for her?”
“Quite unusual.”
Pamela had repeatedly told me the school had noticed a general decline.
So I asked:
“Does this happen often?”
“A few times.”
“When?”
“I’d need dates.”
“Please send them.”
The teacher looked concerned.
“Is there something medical happening?”
“Possibly. She’s seeing her pediatrician this afternoon.”
In the car Matilda whispered:
“Are you mad about the marker?”
“No.”
“I screamed.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“You had a hard morning.”
“Because of the drops?”
I looked at her through the mirror.
“I don’t know yet.”
Then came the question I will never forget.
“Are you going to believe me?”
“Yes.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
“We’re going to find out what happened.”
“Are we going home?”
“No.”
“Where?”
“Grandma Henrietta’s.”
Her entire face lit up.
That hurt.
Pamela had spent months telling me Henrietta’s house made Matilda emotionally unstable because it reminded her too much of Beatrice.
Yet simply hearing her grandmother’s name made my daughter look safer.
Henrietta lived in Paradise Valley in a low adobe house filled with pottery, books and photographs of Beatrice.
Pamela hated the photographs.
Too many reminders.
I had once asked Henrietta to put some away before Pamela visited.
She had.
I remembered that with immediate shame.
Henrietta opened the door.
“Gregory?”
Then saw Matilda.
“My darling.”
Matilda ran into her arms.
Henrietta looked over her head at me.
“What happened?”
After Matilda settled with grilled cheese, I told Henrietta everything.
When I mentioned the La Jolla house, she went still.
“Wait.”
She disappeared.
Returned carrying a folder.
“What is that?”
“A copy of Beatrice’s trust.”
“I have the trust.”
Henrietta gave me a look.
“Do you?”
May you like
Inside was an amendment I had somehow never seen.
And one provision finally explained why Pamela needed me frightened.
