Chapter 3 - THE HAND GRAHAM NEVER LOOKED ATAt seven the next morning, Naomi went downstairs before anyone else.
She had slept perhaps ninety minutes.
The living room looked ordinary.
Sunlight across rug.
Two cushions slightly crooked.
Her handbag still by stairs because she had carried it back down during argument.
Naomi stood looking at sofa.
Then remembered.
Eli had been directly beside right cushion when Graham turned.
She walked over.
Pulled cushion.
Nothing.
Second cushion.
A white cigarette rolled into view.
Beside it—
a black lighter.
Naomi stared.
No satisfaction.
She wished it had not been there.
Because now the argument would become something worse.
Not about whether Naomi saw correctly.
About Eli choosing to lie.
She left both where found and called Graham.
“Come downstairs before Eli wakes.”
He appeared ten minutes later.
“What?”
Naomi pointed.
Graham saw cigarette.
His face changed.
He picked lighter.
“Where was this?”
“Between cushions.”
“You put it there?”
Naomi’s head snapped.
Graham immediately regretted.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
“No.”
“You asked.”
He exhaled.
“I’m trying to understand.”
“Then understand what’s in front of you.”
Graham sat.
Naomi:
“I want you to talk to him.”
“I will.”
“And I don’t want you yelling.”
He looked.
“That’s rich.”
She absorbed.
“You’re right.”
The slap remained.
“I’m saying yelling won’t get truth.”
Graham nodded reluctantly.
When Eli came down, he saw cigarette on coffee table and stopped.
Graham sat beside.
“Come here.”
Eli’s expression tightened.
“Why?”
“Sit.”
He did.
Graham picked cigarette.
“What is this?”
Eli shrugged.
“Not mine.”
Naomi watched silently.
Graham:
“It was inside sofa.”
“I don’t know.”
“Naomi says she saw you holding it.”
Eli glanced at her.
“She probably put it there.”
Graham’s face hardened.
Naomi felt breath leave.
“Eli.”
“What?”
“That is enough.”
“You hit me.”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re trying to make me look bad.”
Naomi said nothing.
Graham leaned.
“Did you have this yesterday?”
“No.”
“Look at me.”
Eli did.
Graham knew his son’s tells.
Right corner of mouth.
Rapid blinking.
He had not looked for them last night.
Now he did.
“Eli.”
The boy looked away.
“Fine.”
Graham’s voice lowered.
“Tell me truth.”
Eli’s eyes filled.
“I wasn’t smoking.”
“That wasn’t question.”
“I never lit it.”
“Was it in your hand?”
Silence.
Naomi’s heart sank.
Eli whispered:
“Yes.”
Graham closed eyes.
“Was the lighter yours?”
“No.”
“Whose?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“A kid gave it.”
“What kid?”
“I’m not telling.”
Graham looked furious.
Naomi interrupted gently.
“Don’t push too fast.”
He turned.
“Please.”
She let him.
Graham:
“You lied to me.”
Eli crossed arms.
“She still hit me.”
“Yes.”
Naomi spoke.
“And I have already admitted I was wrong.”
Eli looked at her.
She continued:
“You having cigarette does not make slap right.”
Graham glanced at her.
“But me slapping you does not make cigarette disappear.”
Eli looked down.
Naomi:
“Both things can be true.”
That seemed to unsettle him.
He had expected one winner.
One guilty side.
Instead Naomi refused.
Graham asked:
“Were you going to smoke?”
Eli:
“I don’t know.”
“You had it near mouth.”
“I was just trying.”
“That is smoking.”
“I didn’t light.”
“Why?”
Eli’s anger returned.
“Because she walked in!”
Graham inhaled sharply.
So yes.
He had intended.
Naomi said:
“We need figure out where it came from.”
Eli:
“Why? I’m not addicted.”
“No one said.”
“You’re making huge deal.”
“You are fourteen.”
“So?”
Graham:
“So cigarettes aren’t for fourteen-year-olds.”
Eli rolled eyes.
Naomi noticed Graham finally saying no.
Not apologizing.
Not softening immediately.
Progress.
Then Eli muttered:
“You act like I murdered someone.”
Graham:
“No.”
“But you lied to me.”
That hurt.
Eli looked away.
Graham’s voice became quieter.
“And yesterday I believed you immediately.”
Eli’s face changed.
Graham saw.
“I stood between you and Naomi before I knew what happened.”
No answer.
“I told her I saw enough.”
Still.
Naomi felt no victory.
Graham looked at wife.
“I’m sorry.”
Eli stared.
Naomi:
“We’ll talk later.”
Not now in front of child.
Then Graham turned back.
“Who gave you cigarette?”
Eli said:
“Bryce.”
“Bryce who?”
“Dalton.”
Naomi and Graham exchanged glance.
They did not know name.
Graham:
“School?”
“Sort of.”
“What does sort of mean?”
“He’s older.”
“How old?”
“Seventeen.”
Graham straightened.
“How do you know seventeen-year-old?”
Eli’s jaw clenched.
“Just around.”
“Where?”
“I said around.”
Naomi saw panic beneath defiance.
This was larger.
Graham softened.
“Eli, I’m not asking because I want punish. I need know.”
Eli stood.
“I told you.”
“Sit down.”
“No.”
He ran upstairs.
Door slammed.
Graham started after.
Naomi stopped him.
“Give him minute.”
He looked at cigarette.
Then Naomi.
“I should have believed you.”
She shook.
“You should have asked.”
Difference.
Graham sat again.
Naomi sat opposite.
After long silence, he said:
“I really thought there was nothing in his hand.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t even look.”
“I know.”
Graham stared at cigarette.
Then whispered:
“Why would he lie like that?”
Upstairs, Eli looked at phone.
A new message from Tessa.
MOM: You okay today?
Eli typed.
They found it.
MOM: Found what?
He hesitated.
Then:
Cigarette.
No reply for almost a minute.
Then:
Eli, why did you tell me there wasn’t one?
His stomach turned.
He typed:
Because I knew Dad would believe me.
This time Tessa did not answer immediately.
When she finally did, message surprised him.
That was not okay.
Eli stared.
Then another appeared.
But Naomi hitting you wasn’t okay either.
May you like
The neat sides inside Eli’s head blurred slightly.
He hated it.
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