Unless…
That word returns, carrying with it a thought too grisly to say aloud. We all have little mysteries surrounding our childhoods. Memories that are misremembered, stories that don’t seem to add up. Now, all those misunderstandings are shifting. The pieces of my life are coming together, making everything clear.
She was hiding me.
12 MarionNow
In the time I’ve been waiting in this car, it feels like years have passed, and I suppose they have, as I analyze every piece of my life. If Mom were innocent, why won’t she try to prove it? Why won’t she talk to me?
Carmen insists she’s under stress, still in shock from the arrest. But what about me? Her daughter. Didn’t she think I would be just as overwhelmed, just as desperate for answers?
“You were too hard on her in there,” Carmen says as she drives us back to her house. Like me, she must be rehashing what happened.
“All she had to do was talk to me. Answer my questions.”
“It’s hard for her to do that right now. There’s a lot at stake. Her freedom, for one.”
I turn to face Carmen. Passing streetlights cast shadows across her face.
“What’s hard is hearing your entire childhood was a lie. I’m struggling to accept that the woman who raised me may not be my mother at all.”
“Don’t start thinking like that—”
“What am I supposed to think? She admitted her real name is Sarah Paxton. She’s the woman police have been searching for all these years.” I look out the window, at the pellets of rain sliding down the glass. “I know you’re her lawyer, but you don’t have to pretend for my sake. They wouldn’t have made an arrest if they didn’t have sufficient evidence.”
Carmen knows I’m right. We sit in silence a while longer before she responds.
“As your friend, I understand your anger. Eileen’s been protective of you, at times overprotective, and now you’re having to accept she might have been lying. But as your mother’s lawyer, I’m asking you to stay open-minded. There could be more to the story we don’t understand.”
“And how are we supposed to get the full story if Mom refuses to speak with us?”
“She’s probably afraid to talk to you. Afraid of disappointing you.”
Carmen’s good at dissecting the opposite side of an argument. She’s made a career out of it. Prosecutors seek the truth, defense attorneys defend. This time she’ll have to do both.
The kids wore Ava out. She is asleep before we pull onto the highway. The gentle purring of rain on the car helps. I calculate how long it has been since I’ve had a good night’s rest. I didn’t get much sleep before the party. I was frenetic, filled with nervous energy, bogged down with anxieties that no longer seem to matter. I’d wanted the party to be perfect for Ava. How terrible the whole thing turned out to be.
My neighborhood is quiet. Carmen lodged a complaint to keep the media away from my complex. Now any news crews hoping for a picture have to park across the street from the community entrance, and it appears most have given up. They are still trying to contact me though; Des said the landline at The Shack hasn’t stopped ringing all day.
As I pull up to the curb in front of my duplex, I see a man sitting on the front porch. He stands as I approach, the overhead light shining down to reveal his identity.
It’s Evan.
I kill the ignition and release a deep breath. I’ve been trying to avoid him, but that’s impossible now that he is in front of me. I step out of the car, leaning against it as he descends the steps. I purposely leave Ava in the back seat; I have no intention of introducing them tonight.
“I tried calling you,” he says.
He looks older, a few more lines around the eyes. It has been a long time since I’ve seen him in person. Now he is here, returning during one of the worst weeks of my life. All the things I’d imagined saying to him dissipate, like the moisture in the air.
“How is your mom?” he asks.
“I’m guessing you’ve talked to Des?”
“First I saw it on the news. Then I called Des.” He stuffs his hands inside his jacket. “How is she?”
“I don’t know. She refuses to speak with me.”
“I can’t believe they arrested her at Ava’s party like that.”
It’s strange, hearing him say her name. Evan, who used to be the most important person in my life, has never met the little girl who seized that role. My beautiful, bouncing Ava.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. A genuine question. He’d tried reaching out to me earlier, but the fact he has arrived on my doorstep the same week they took Mom away in handcuffs seems more than coincidental.
“I thought Cassie would have told you by now.”
Cassie is his younger sister. She lives across town with her husband and two kids. We used to be close back when Evan and I were a couple. We keep in contact, but we don’t see each other much. The family resemblance is too strong. Seeing her used to make me miss him. I’d just started to get over that, and now he’s here.
“We’ve not talked a lot lately. I’ve been so busy with Ava.”
“That’s understandable.” His eyes fall on the back seat window. He’s looking inside, at where Ava is, but it’s so dark he can probably only see his own reflection. “I’m guessing that’s why you’ve missed my calls, too.”
I’ve been avoiding his calls. Yesterday, because of the party. Today, because I was preparing to see Mom. Earlier, because… I don’t know. It’s difficult hearing his voice. Our breakup was ages ago but being around him now still feels raw. Evan is the most important romantic relationship I’ve ever had, and I’m his.
“You’ve talked to Des. You know I have a lot on my plate
