Something She's Not Telling Us - Darcey Bell Page 0,30
where you left it. It’s a GPS tracker. Everybody has it. I gave one to my grandpa so he could find his car keys.”
Daisy stares at the bunny, then at the card, then at Charlotte.
“Give it to Mom,” says Ruth.
Daisy hands Charlotte the card.
“Good girl,” says Ruth.
Daisy’s face shines. “Thank you.”
Charlotte has no choice but to find Daisy’s inhaler in the special zippered pocket where she puts it when they leave the house. The inhaler is supposed to look like a pink snail, like a toy instead of a life preserver. Question: What child would want to suck on a snail? Answer: A child who can’t breathe. She attaches it on another link on the chain with the bunny. A bunny, a snail. How brilliant.
“This works,” Charlotte says.
“It does work,” Ruth says. “Now you always know where it is.”
Charlotte should be grateful. A problem has been solved. Instead it annoys her that Ruth (not Charlotte or Eli) found the solution. One of them should have thought of it, not her brother’s goofy girlfriend. It’s just because she’s younger, more savvy about the tech that can put them in constant touch with the thing that might save Daisy’s life.
“Say thank you, Daisy,” Charlotte says.
“She already did,” says Ruth.
“I already did,” says Daisy.
“See you soon,” says Rocco, with quick hugs for Eli and Charlotte and a big hug for Daisy.
“Can I hug you too?” Ruth asks.
“Not yet,” Daisy says.
You go, girl, Charlotte thinks.
“Gotcha,” says Ruth. “Later.”
Charlotte’s relieved to say good night and walk back to the car.
“Can you drive?” she asks Eli.
“I’ll be the soberest guy on the BQE.”
“That was fun,” Charlotte says. “The food was great, wasn’t it, Daisy?”
Still holding their hands, Daisy nods her head so hard that Charlotte feels it up her arm.
AS SOON AS they get back to the loft, Daisy says, “Let’s try out the magic bunny.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure that she’d understood, but obviously she has. Five-year-olds know more about technology than grown-ups. And though it’s late, and they’re tired, and Daisy has school tomorrow, they say okay—how long can it take? It takes less than a minute to download the app onto Charlotte’s phone. They wait. And there it is, the tracking icon is a bunny, bouncing on her phone.
Eli tries to download it, but error messages keep coming up, even when Daisy helps him. Eli says he’ll figure it out, but he won’t. It’s yet another responsibility he’s going to leave to Charlotte. Eli does that a lot. There’s just so much to do even with only one child. No wonder her mother went crazy taking care of two.
“Okay,” Daisy tells her. “Turn off your phone, I’m going to hide my inhaler.”
Charlotte turns off her phone, and Daisy tells her parents to close their eyes. They hear her running around the loft. She stops, turns, laughs. Tricking Mom and Dad is fun.
“Okay,” she says. “Now turn your phone back on and find it.”
It’s not the same as when she’s struggling for breath. It’s a fun game. They’ve got all the time in the world.
Charlotte opens the app, and a series of little blue runway lights and a beeping sound guide her to the bottom of Daisy’s laundry basket.
“Mom!” cries Daisy. “Mom found it.”
The chip found it. Ruth found the chip. But Charlotte will take credit. And now she will always know where Daisy is.
THE NEXT MORNING, Rocco calls to say that he’s moving in with Ruth. He’ll stay with her in Greenpoint, then drive up to the country Thursday nights to load up the van Friday mornings and bring the vegetables back to the city.
“That’s quite a commute,” Charlotte says.
“I’ve been doing it anyway. You and Eli and Daisy can have your Friday and Saturday nights back. Family time.”
“We liked seeing you,” Charlotte says.
“You still will,” he says.
Charlotte says, “I have to ask. What was that credit card thing?”
“What credit card thing?”
“With Ruth. Come on,” Charlotte says. “Please.”
Rocco says, “You’ve never had a card denied? Bullshit. You never had a customer whose credit card was denied? Double bullshit.”
“No and yes,” Charlotte says.
Rocco says, “Ruth called her grandparents this morning, then the credit card company. She’s got it straightened out. It was nothing. I’m sorry, Charlotte. I’m sorry if you don’t like her. I’m interested in her. I’m not bored. I want to see how this turns out.”
“We do like her.” It’s mostly true. Charlotte even—sort of—likes being around her.
But she doesn’t trust her.
CHARLOTTE GAZES OVER her therapist’s head at the African masks on his wall.