“Until they do a DNA test.” It would take one flimsy cotton swab to determine whether or not Mom is my biological mother.
“The test will come. Wait for it. If the results aren’t in our favor, we can think of other strategies.”
Strategies. Carmen can predict how one outcome will bleed into the next. She knows what those results will do to me. The devastation I’ll feel. I wonder if Carmen is trying to gather as much information as she can from me now, before I’m a blubbering mess. It’s a manipulative tactic, but that’s what makes her good at her job.
“Let’s start over,” she says, propping her elbows on her knees. “We’ll review the main questions again and again. Until you’re ready to share them with investigators.”
I nod. “Okay.”
8 MarionNow
Carmen’s visit did help prepare me for my conversation with investigators. By the time they arrived, I was able to retell what limited information I had in a calm, methodical manner. In fact, the detectives, both of them male and in their fifties, didn’t push too hard. They didn’t provide much information about Mom’s case, either. There seemed to be an unspoken understanding that, whatever my mother had done, I was a victim. This was painful for me, and they weren’t wanting to add to that agony. They left with a warning there would be future conversations as the case developed.
Now I’m riding in the passenger seat of Carmen’s Range Rover. Ava is buckled into her car seat behind me. The seat is rear facing, but I can hear the occasional sound of her babbling and cooing. I long for her obliviousness. Ava’s life was also upended yesterday, but she doesn’t know it.
“Are you sure Michael can handle the kids?” I ask. We’re taking Ava to Carmen’s house, so that we can go to the county jail and talk with Mom.
“Probably not. But Esme is there, so they’ll be fine. Besides, he’ll have to get used to more time with the kids now that he’s not working.”
In all that’s happened in the past two days, I’ve forgotten the Banks family is also going through a transition. Carmen’s job is demanding. She works long, unpredictable hours. Michael’s job was equally taxing, until he abruptly quit last month. He was some kind of financial advisor, which meant he spent a good portion of the month traveling outside North Bay. He grew tired of constantly being away from his family, so he quit and has been studying for his real estate license ever since.
They still have extra help from Esme, a part-time nanny Carmen hired last year. It would be nice, having a second set of hands. Of course, Carmen and Michael had two large salaries to fund this expense; I make a decent living from The Shack, but as a single parent, I’m basically still getting by.
“How is Michael doing?” I ask. “Does he miss his job yet?”
“Sometimes.” Carmen, for the first time since the party, drops the lawyer role. “He won’t admit it, though. Everyone talks about wanting to take time off, but when you work the hours we do, you kind of get used to it. It becomes addictive. We’re hoping we can make it to the end of summer, go on a nice vacation before he starts working in the fall.”
“That’s great.”
Carmen has a lot of help. She has Esme and me and even Des, if she needed to ask. But it’s nice to know Michael also supports her. It’s important to have that person, the one who is always in your corner. I thought I had it with Mom, but now I’m not so sure.
As though timed, my phone buzzes. It’s Evan again. He called yesterday during the party, but then chaos ensued. I never got back to him, and I’m still not sure I’m ready. I silence the phone, staring out the window as we pull into Carmen’s neighborhood.
Carmen’s house also faces the water, but the single residence is almost the size of my entire complex. I carry Ava into the living room. Esme has just prepared dinner, some kind of pasta with a red sauce. As usual, Esme’s face lights up when she sees Ava. Babies are magical in that sense. They’re able to temporarily make people forget the negative aspects of the world, just with their bright eyes and pudgy rolls.
Michael comes over. He kisses Carmen on the cheek, then pulls me in for a half hug.
“I’m so sorry, Marion,” he whispers, quiet enough so the children can’t hear.
“Thank you.”
The last time I saw him was at the party. He was one of the many guests who watched the scandal unfold. The whole thing was so humiliating. Holly Dale and my friends from Mommy and Me were likely horrified. Yesterday seems like a lifetime ago.
“Eileen is in good hands with Carmen,” he says. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
Carmen and Michael lock eyes. I can tell she appreciates his comment but doesn’t want to blush too much in my presence. I always thought they were a compatible couple. They prioritize business, allow each other the independence needed to succeed in their given fields, but they also strive to make time for family. I hope to build a connection like that with someone one day.
I can’t follow Michael’s instructions not to worry, though. Carmen is good at her job, but she is usually tasked with making a bad situation better. As hopeful as I try to be, I know Carmen won’t be able to restore the normalcy that was stolen yesterday. No one is that good.
“Call us if you need anything,” Carmen says, her eyes flitting between Michael and Esme.
Once we’re in the car, the magnitude of what is about to happen sets in. I’m about to ask my mother the truth about these charges. I’m about to ask her if she did the horrible things
