Chapter 5: Hypocritical Oath

Ellie, Sparkle, and I were just finished with our dinner when the doorbell rang. Ellie took my tray to the kitchen counter and told her daughter to sit at the table while she answered the door. Checking the peephole, she swung open the door.

“Hello, Parker. You didn’t call.”

In Ellie’s small house, I could hear the conversation but I couldn’t see this “Parker.”

“Yeah, sorry. I came to see Stephanie. But where’s your car? Does that shabby old Hyundai belong to you?”

“Don’t you remember? The RAV4 was destroyed in the car wreck.”

“I thought you both got out of that OK. That’s a non-responsive answer, Eleanor. Is the Hyundai yours?”

“No, it belongs to Daniel. He’s in my bedroom.”

Ignoring his daughter, he strode into the bedroom with a stormy look on his face. Ellie followed him, worried.

“Who. Are. You?”

“Daniel Lyon, at your service. I’d shake your hand, but...”

I brandished my Q-tip hands at him.

“Why are you in my wife’s bed?”

“She put me there, that’s why. You’re not much of a doctor, are you? Aren’t you curious about my injuries?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Lyon; I still own this house and I can put you out on the street if I want.”

“Daddy?”

Sparkle followed her mother into the bedroom when she realized who the visitor was. Her voice was uncertain and thready. This seemed to have a cooling effect on her father, and he turned to her and composed his face.

“Hey, Stephanie, I missed you. How are you doing?”

“I’m OK. Daddy, why are you yelling at Daniel?”

“He surprised me; I wasn’t expecting him. Tell you what, let’s go into your bedroom and I’ll read you a story.”

We watched them go, and I confronted Ellie.

“You didn’t tell him? About the accident? About me?”

She looked down at the floor, ashamed.

An hour later, Parker emerges from Sparkle’s bedroom.

“She’s asleep. I’m going to get a chair from the kitchen and you two are going to explain why Mr. Lyon is, uh, lying in your bed.”

I tried to explain what happened in a neutral tone.

At the end of a long work day, I’m on my way back to the office to return their truck for the night. Just a couple of blocks away, I witnesses a brutal traffic accident. A drunk driver has just run a red light in his Escalade Extended (a giant SUV), t-boning a comparatively tiny RAV4—the original model with only two side doors.

I rush to help and pull the driver out of the mangled wreck. Ellie, the single mother in the driver’s seat is concussed and not making a lot of sense, but she moans, “My baby...” and that’s when I see her toddler in the back seat. Stephanie’s eyes are open but she’s in shock, not yet oriented enough to start crying.