The Perfect Child(32)

“Do you want any help, Janie?” I asked, coming up beside her.

Nothing.

Just like every other time I’d tried to talk to her. She’d been fine at breakfast, chattering away with us about the upcoming day as she’d nibbled on her strawberries while Christopher had eaten his oatmeal and I’d drunk my second cup of coffee. He’d kissed both of us before leaving. I’d expected her to cry or go into one of her screaming fits. I hadn’t expected this.

My phone buzzed.

Take her outside. Go to the park.

That was Christopher’s solution to everything with Janie—take her outside in the world. She loved the park, but would I be rewarding her behavior by letting her do something she enjoyed? At what point did we stop giving in to her and start holding her accountable? I didn’t want her to think she could just ignore me like it was nothing and still get to go about her day like everything was fine, but I also didn’t want to sit in the house all day long with her stonewalling me at every turn. The day was already dragging, and it was only ten thirty. One day of giving in to her couldn’t hurt.

“Do you want to go to the park?” I asked, not expecting an answer. “Why don’t you go put your shoes on?”

She kept scribbling furiously on her paper with a red crayon.

“Janie, I asked you to put your shoes on. I understand that you’re not talking to me this morning, but you still have to do what I ask you to do.” It was the sternest voice I’d ever used with her, but I was at a loss.

I waited for a few minutes that felt like ten to see if she’d get up and go put on her pink tennis shoes in front of the door. They had Velcro straps, so she could do them by herself, and they were the only shoes we’d been able to get her to wear so far.

I put my hands on my hips. “I asked you to do something. If you want to go to the park, then you have to put your shoes on.”

She turned her back so she faced away from me.

Irritation flanked me. I walked into the kitchen to settle myself down. She was only a child and dealing with this in the only way she knew how. I was the adult. I had to be patient and give her the space to process the transition. I took a few deep breaths before walking to the entryway and getting her shoes.

“I’m doing this for you today because I understand you’re having a hard time because Christopher went to work, and I want to help you through it. It seems like you’re upset, and I want you to know that everything is going to be okay.” I talked while I slid the shoes onto her feet. “He is going to be home as soon as he is done seeing all his patients, and then we can all be together again.”

There was a neighborhood park only six blocks from the house, so it made for an easy walk. Gene had started taking her there during their last visit. I took her hand like I always did when we walked, and she jerked it away. I reminded myself to stay calm. I pointed out birds and flowers as we went along, but she refused to look in the direction I pointed.

Her face lit up when she spotted the park. It was packed with parents and kids. It always was, no matter the time of day, because it was as practical as it was pretty. The play space was huge, filled with tunnels, different slides, and jungle gyms. There were plastic rocks and walls to climb. Giant yellow canopies shaded the entire space, keeping the kids cool while they played. It was lined with picnic tables and benches so that the parents could watch from the sidelines, and it was completely enclosed, so you could relax without feeling like if you let your guard down, your kid would bolt out of the park.

Janie took off for the playground immediately. I walked up slowly, scanning to see if I recognized any of the moms. I was just starting to get to know the mom crowd and finding it much harder to fit in than I had thought it’d be. Most of them were stay-at-home moms, and they’d met when their children were babies. They already knew everything about each other and their kids. Breaking into the group with a six-year-old was tough.

I waved to three of them that I recognized, and they motioned me over.

“How are you?” Greta asked. She was always dressed in yoga pants, like she’d just come from a class, and today wasn’t any different.

“I’m good,” I said. All eyes were on me. They always stopped what they were doing whenever I came on the scene. My dad had hit it off with the moms at the park much better than me, but it wasn’t that surprising. He was one of the most charismatic people I knew, and people were always drawn to him.

“How’s Janie?” Greta’s best friend, Sydney, asked. The two of them had been best friends since middle school and did everything together, including having their children as close together as possible. Janie was playing in the sandbox with Sydney’s daughter, Violet, while Greta’s daughter, Brynn, marched around barking orders at them.

“Things are great,” I said. We hadn’t disclosed Janie’s background and planned on keeping her identity a secret for as long as possible, at least until they’d made an arrest in Becky’s murder, but they weren’t any closer to an arrest than they’d been when she’d been admitted to the hospital. The women were nice enough not to push for more details, but they always looked slightly annoyed that I didn’t say more about Janie, especially when they were constantly talking about their kids.

Janie bounced up to the bench and tapped the other mom, Meredith, on her arm. Meredith had one hand on her stroller, constantly moving it back and forth to keep her baby asleep inside it, and the other gripped her travel coffee mug.