A pharmacist in a white lab coat approached us. “What seems to be the problem here?”
“Him.” Dad pointed at the man.
“Actually, it’s you. You seem to be a nutjob,” the man scoffed.
“I need to get back to the counter,” the pharmacist huffed impatiently. “What is the problem, gentlemen?”
“He cut in front of me and my daughters. And then called me a very derogatory word. I heard him, he said it under his breath. Right in front of my daughters too!”
The pharmacist waved his hands down. “Please calm down, sir. Is this true?” He turned toward the man, who shook his head adamantly.
“No. Absolutely not. He is completely making this up!”
The pharmacist turned to the woman and her toddler. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry to bother you. But did you hear this man use a derogatory word against this man?”
The toddler screamed and yanked at her ear. “I really—I’m sorry but I wasn’t paying any attention. I’m sorry.” Her child coughed again, right in her mouth.
“And you?”
He tapped the teenager behind us who looked around, still bobbing to his music. He noticed us and took off one earpiece. “What? What’d I do?”
“Nothing.” The pharmacist sighed.
“What exactly did he say to you?”
Dad hung his head down. Solemn. “Fucking chink,” he uttered quietly.
The words seemed to throw a strong wave at the pharmacist, who stepped back, eyes widening.
“I did not!” the man refuted.
The pharmacist looked down at Marlow and me, as if noticing us for the first time. He rubbed his hair and then put his hands together toward the man.
“Sir, I’m sorry but you’re going to have to leave the pharmacy.”
The man chuckled with anger. “You have got to be joking—”
“I’m not. We don’t condone that kind of language here.”
“Fucking—”
“Leave. Please.”
This time the pharmacist stood up taller.
Every part of Dad remained motionless. Except his eyes. They followed the man as he threw his hands up, swore again, and left.
On the drive home, Dad looked at us both solidly in the mirror.
“Girls, it was the right thing to do.”
He was met with silence.
“What that man did . . . it was wrong to begin with. I did what had to be done.”
I held the prescription for Moni on my lap. The white paper crinkled as it shifted when we got to a stoplight. Marlow ripped open the green package, sliding a pink-and-blue worm into her mouth as she stared out the window.
CHAPTER 21
ISLA
1998
Three years.
That was the last time we had been to the cabin.
Dad had rented it out each summer we stayed away. I’d heard him and Mom talk about even selling it, that there was no point in keeping it since we never went there.
I figured it was because they didn’t want to traumatize Marlow by taking her back to the place she was likely abandoned. Dad—ever the scholar, rule-abider, and cerebral one—took Marlow to Dr. Ciruelos for an assessment.
“Let’s see what she thinks. Besides, Marlow stopped going regularly once she started second grade. She should see her, talk to her. Maybe there are things we could be doing better.”
“She seems to be doing fine. I don’t need a doctor to tell me that at this point,” Mom countered, slicing a cucumber before dinner.
He slid his hand to the small of her back. “I know you miss it. The lake, the air up there. C’mon. This way we can make a more informed decision.”
Dr. Ciruelos deemed Marlow an “exceptionally bright young girl.” There was no reason she couldn’t enjoy time up at the lake cabin. It had been three years and she still hadn’t shown any signs of regaining her memory, let alone the events of the night she was found. The likelihood of it triggering anything was low. And to top it all off, she was clearly a “well-adjusted child.”
