For the Record by Monique Polak

Author:Monique Polak
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Owlkids Books Inc.
Published: 2022-04-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

When Bea and I go into the kitchen on Sunday morning, the lights are out. Mom is sitting in her usual spot, her palm pressed against her forehead. She’s not making a grocery list or looking for healthy recipes the way she usually does on Sunday mornings. She’s just sitting.

“Let’s not be too loud,” I whisper to Bea. “Mom’s head still hurts.”

Mom looks up at the two of us. She smiles, then bites her lip. Smiling must make the headache worse. I notice fine lines I’ve never seen before at the outsides of her eyes.

Bea runs to the table. “Look at my boo-boo.” Then she remembers to drop her voice. “Daddy did it,” she whispers. “For no reason.” She meets my eyes when she says that, and for a second I feel bad for her.

But then I remind myself that what I told Bea is true: If Mom knew the whole story, she’d make Dad get rid of Sheldon.

I go stand next to Bea, take her small, warm hand in mine and squeeze it. It’s my way of telling her she’s being a very good girl.

“Oh my God,” Mom says, and her face, which is already pale, turns gray. I hate to upset her, especially when she has a headache, but I remind myself that everything I’m doing, everything Bea is doing—even if she doesn’t realize it—is all to help Mom.

“For no reason?” Mom’s voice sounds a little stronger. She turns to me. “Justine, is that true?”

I take one deep breath. Then I nod.

This next part is very important.

“For no reason,” I say, repeating Bea’s words. Then I add something else. “I think he’s starting to lose it.”

When I say those words, I have the weirdest feeling that I’m actually telling the truth. That I’m starting to believe my version of what happened.

Besides, it isn’t a total lie. We just left some stuff out. Everyone knows that isn’t the same as lying.

I squeeze Bea’s hand again, and this time, she squeezes mine back. She needs to understand we are in this together.

Mom gives her head a shake as if that will help her headache go away. “I knew it,” she whispers.

“Justine put three Band-Aids on,” Bea says. “And they were the jumbos.”

Mom lifts Bea onto her lap. Then, very gently, she pulls down the corner of Bea’s pajama top so she can check Bea’s shoulder. The area around the Band-Aids has gone from red to pink. “My poor sweet honeybee,” Mom coos.

Bea starts to whimper and Mom runs her fingers through Bea’s fine hair.

“Honeybee,” Mom says, “I’m going to need to take off the Band-Aids so I can see the boo-boo.”

Bea whimpers harder. “No,” she says. “It’s gonna hurt too much.”

“Sometimes things need to hurt before they start to feel better,” Mom tells Bea.

The message is for Bea, but I can’t help nodding. That’s exactly it. What I’ve done may cause some hurt, but it’s the only way I have to make things better.

Bea howls when Mom peels off the Band-Aids.

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