Chapter 6: What Patricia Sent
I called Patricia back that night.
Nora was asleep.
Ariella was in her room with the door closed and the light on.
"The message," I said, when Patricia answered.
"The one you sent Renata at the cafe.
What was it?"
A long pause.
"A photograph," she said.
"Of what?"
"Of a document.
A complaint filed with the state licensing board eighteen months ago.
A formal complaint against Renata." Her voice was even, measured.
"She was working as a patient coordinator at a private clinic at the time.
A patient filed a complaint stating that Renata had made repeated derogatory comments about her weight during appointments.
The clinic settled quietly.
Renata resigned."
I sat down on the edge of the couch.
"She's done this professionally too," I said.
"Yes.
And she knew I had that document.
I found it eight months ago.
I told her then that if she ever behaved that way again, I would make sure it followed her." Patricia paused.
"Today I made good on that."
"Does your son know?"
"He does now.
I told him this afternoon." Another pause, heavier than the others.
"He was not pleased with me."
"With you?"
"He said I was interfering.
That I was trying to humiliate his wife." Her voice didn't change.
"I told him I was trying to stop her from humiliating other people's children."
I pressed my hand over my eyes.
Outside, a car passed slowly.
The house was quiet.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"That depends on Renata," Patricia said.
"And on my son.
He has a choice to make about what kind of man he wants to be." A pause.
"I've made mine."
We confirmed the appointment for Ariella — Thursday afternoon, Patricia's home office.
She said she still kept her equipment and her contacts.
She said she'd already made two calls on Ariella's behalf that afternoon.
I thanked her.
I meant it.
After we hung up, I sat in the quiet for a while.
Then I heard Ariella's door open.
She came down the hallway in her socks and sat beside me on the couch without saying anything.
She leaned her head on my shoulder.
"I read it again," she said.
"How was it?"
"He said I was the bravest person he knew." She paused.
"He said it before I even started working there.
Before any of this."
I put my arm around her.
"He was right," I said.
She was quiet for a moment.
Then: "Mom.
That woman — Renata.
Do you think she'll actually leave us alone now?"
I thought about the look on Renata's face when she'd read that message.
The way the anger had dropped away and left something smaller underneath.
May you like
"I think so," I said.
But I was wrong.
