“You don’t owe anyone money because I’m holding you.”
Ella didn’t answer.
But her arms tightened.
Nadine put the box on the low table.
I sat with Ella beside me rather than on my lap because she wanted to see my face.
She straightened the notes inside the box.
One.
Then another.
As though the arrangement might help explain the misunderstanding.
“Can you tell me what you thought you needed to pay for?”
She looked toward the open door.
“Do I have to say?”
“No.”
She watched me.
“You can take your time.”
Nadine sat in the armchair near us.
I asked whether Ella wanted her to stay.
She nodded immediately.
So Nadine stayed.
For a while, my daughter said nothing.
Then she touched the folded notes.
“Some things cost more.”
“What things?”
“If you’re working.”
I kept my hands still.
“What costs more when I’m working?”
“Coming in.”
“To my study?”
A nod.
“And if I want you to stop.”
My mouth went dry.
“Stop working?”
Another nod.
Nadine looked at the floor.
Ella continued.
“Talking is two.”
I waited.
“Hugs are five.”
The room seemed to narrow around those words.
“And after dinner?”
She drew a breath.
“Ten, because then you’re tired.”
I wanted to stand.
Go back into the dining room.
Demand every answer at once.
But my daughter was watching me.
She needed to know what my face meant.
So I stayed seated.
“Ella, none of those things cost you money.”
