Chapter 6 - The Thing He Called Help
"You showed Linda our private medical papers?" I asked.
Daniel sounded cornered. "She said she could sort out the hospital bills. I thought she was helping."
"Did you also show her my leave paperwork?"
"I don't remember."
"That's an answer I can't afford anymore."
I ended the call. Mara brought me warm toast because I'd forgotten dinner. I ate half, put a hand on my belly, and felt one reassuring kick. The smallest person in this mess was still making herself heard.
At the clinic the following morning, the practice manager met me in a private room. I described the fall and asked that the incident be formally recorded. They already had a nurse's note. Security footage was being preserved for review, she said, and there were procedures for requesting records. She didn't promise me a copy or pretend a typed birth plan gave strangers access to me.
"Your safety concerns are enough for us to take precautions," she said.
Tasha came in after her shift. "How is your wrist?"
"Sore. I keep thinking I should've seen it coming."
"You were sitting in a chair," she said. "You weren't supposed to defend yourself from a chair."
That afternoon Linda called from an unknown number. I answered before noticing the area code.
"You've embarrassed the family," she said. "Everyone thinks I attacked you."
"You pulled my seat away."
"I was trying to teach you to show respect. Daniel never had this trouble before he married you."
The word teach stayed with me after I hung up. People make mistakes. They don't usually describe them as lessons.
I texted Daniel the exact sentence. He replied: She didn't mean it like that.
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Then Mara sent me a screenshot she'd received from Daniel's cousin Becca. Linda had organized a celebration at the neighborhood community center for Saturday. The invitation showed a crib in Linda's guest room and four cheerful words across the top.
BABY'S FIRST HOME AT GRANDMA'S.
