At twelve, I unexpectedly found myself spending the week at home without adult supervision, worried that speaking up might cause problems in Dad’s marriage. But I never imagined Dad had been misled too…
Chapter 5 — Three Different Stories
Mrs. Ruiz brought me to her house that afternoon.
She didn’t wait for me to decide.
Instead, she said, “Put your shoes on, sweetheart. You’ll stay next door until your father returns.”
I slipped into my sneakers.
Then I headed upstairs to remove Dad’s sweatshirt.
Mrs. Ruiz noticed how carefully I folded it.
“You can take that along.”
I nodded and brought it with me.
Her home smelled of fresh coffee and laundry detergent.
She prepared grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.
Although I’d already eaten lunch, she assured me I could eat more whenever I wanted.
I sat quietly at her kitchen table while she telephoned Grandma.
For several minutes, I listened as they discussed me like I wasn’t present.
“She’s with me.”
“Yes, she’s safe.”
“No, nothing happened to her.”
Then Mrs. Ruiz glanced toward me.
“Your grandmother would like to talk.”
I accepted the phone.
“Hello, Grandma.”
“Oh, Molly.”
Her voice was trembling.
“Why didn’t you telephone me?”
“Andrea said your knee was hurting too much.”
“My knee?”
“She told me you needed rest.”
Grandma made a sound I couldn’t quite recognize.
“Sweetheart, my knee does hurt. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t call me.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt your recovery.”
“Oh, sweetheart.”
I stared at the soup sitting before me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, honey. Not even once.”
Then Grandma began to cry.
Hearing that frightened me more than anything.
I’d never heard her sound so upset.
Dad was five hours from home.
Mrs. Ruiz explained that he’d already departed the cabin.
Andrea was returning alongside him.
That genuinely surprised me.
Some part of me expected Dad to ask her to remain there.
Another part secretly wished he had.
I had no idea what would happen after they returned.
Around four, Dad phoned once more.
Mrs. Ruiz was busy watering her plants, so I picked up.
“Hello, Peanut.”
“Hi.”
“How are you holding up?”
“Okay.”
“Is Mrs. Ruiz making sure you eat?”
I glanced toward the cookies she’d placed beside me.
“Definitely.”
Dad laughed a little.
Then his voice grew quiet.
“Molly, there’s something important I need you to understand.”
“Okay.”
“I had absolutely no idea you were staying alone.”
“I know.”
“No. Please listen carefully. I never would have agreed to something like that.”
I pressed my lips tightly together.
“Okay.”
“And I’m sorry I didn’t speak directly with Grandma beforehand.”
I couldn’t understand why he was apologizing.
He’d trusted Andrea.
And I’d trusted her too.
“Are you angry with her?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Does that mean you’re getting divorced?”
The question escaped before I could reconsider it.
Dad paused before answering.
“We’ll discuss that another time. Right now, getting home to you is all that matters.”
I lowered my eyes.
“Okay.”
“Molly?”
“Yeah?”
“None of this happened because of you.”
I desperately wanted to believe that.
But Dad had seemed so happy when he left Saturday.
Now his voice sounded close to tears.
And I kept wondering whether everything would’ve stayed normal if I’d simply managed another three days.
Dad returned shortly after eight.
I recognized the sound of his truck entering our driveway.
Then I heard a car door closing.
Mrs. Ruiz opened her front door before he could knock.
Dad hurried inside so quickly that he almost stumbled over the welcome mat.
He still wore the same blue jacket from Saturday.
“Molly.”
I got to my feet.
He hurried across the room and wrapped his arms around me.
His embrace was so tight I could barely breathe.
I didn’t mind at all.
“I’m terribly sorry,” he whispered.
I put my arms around his waist.
“It’s alright.”
“No.”
He leaned back enough to meet my eyes.
“It isn’t alright.”
His eyes looked red.
He examined my face, hands, and arms, almost as though searching for any sign something was wrong.
“Are you absolutely sure you’re okay?”
I nodded.
“Did you feel sick? Did you fall? Anything at all?”
“No.”
He released an unsteady breath.
Then he embraced me once more.
For the first time since Saturday, I finally felt safe enough to stop acting brave.
I began crying against his jacket.
Dad continued holding me until I felt ready to move.
Andrea remained inside the car.
I spotted her through Mrs. Ruiz’s front window.
She sat in the passenger seat, staring down at her phone.
She never came inside.
Dad thanked Mrs. Ruiz and asked whether I’d prefer staying overnight at her place.
I shook my head.
“I’d rather sleep in my own bed.”
“Alright.”
We headed next door together.
Dad rested one hand gently against my shoulder.
Once inside, the house appeared exactly as I’d left it.
My handwritten schedule remained attached to the refrigerator.
The envelope containing the leftover money rested on the counter.
My flashlight lay beside the couch.
Dad slowly surveyed the kitchen.
He reached for my schedule.
Then he read it.
I noticed his expression changing.
Finally, his attention reached the final instruction.
Don’t bother Dad.
He remained completely silent.
He simply removed the paper from the refrigerator and folded it carefully.
Andrea entered the house moments afterward.
“Molly,” she began cautiously.
I turned toward her.
“I hope you’re doing alright.”
I nodded.
She looked over at Dad.
“Nathan, could we please speak alone?”
Dad turned back toward me.
“Sweetheart, would you go upstairs for a little while? I’ll be right downstairs.”
I returned to my bedroom.
But our house wasn’t particularly large.
And once Andrea began speaking, nearly everything she said reached me.
