A Mother's Lie

by Sarah Zettel

  “Nothing to worry about yet. I can take care of her. I just wanted to know for sure.”

  “Well, I’m so glad you called. And like I told you, I’m home next week. We have to get together right after that, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure, that sounds great.” Finally a couple of pieces managed to fit together inside Beth’s confusion. “Um, you said you’re out of the country…”

  “Yes, yes. Business. Everybody trying to figure out what’s going on with Brexit. You know how that is.”

  “Yeah. Well, the truth of the matter is Dad’s been talking about you so much, and I was planning on a trip out to Chicago anyway…but it was going to be Thursday, so maybe…”

  “Oh! Oh perfect! No, seriously. You can stay at the house with your dad until I get home.”

  “Dad’s at your place?”

  “Yes. He’s house-sitting for me. He must have told you!”

  “Oh yeah, right, right. Slipped my mind for a second there. And thank you, but I don’t want to impose…”

  “Oh, it’s no imposition! We’re practically family already, right? Oh, I can’t wait to meet you, Star. I wish I was there now.”

  “Yeah, me too. Thanks for talking to me, Amanda. How about you, uh, text me your itinerary and stuff and…maybe I can come with Dad and meet you at the airport?”

  “Oh perfect! This number?”

  “Uh-huh. Yes. Um, you take care now!”

  There were about six iterations of good-bye after that, but finally Amanda let her hang up. All Beth could do was sit where she was and stare at the wall. She’d always watched her father flirt and charm and sweet-talk, but there’d never been anything like this.

  That you knew of.

  Beth bit her lip.

  He never lived with them before! Jeannie had said.

  Her parents had always disappeared at random intervals. One or both of them could be gone for days. When they came back, they’d either have money, or it would be time to pick up and go again.

  Her parents had always used people too. They always said if someone was stupid enough to trust them, they deserved what they got.

  I was whoring. Jeannie said that. She didn’t say if that was the first time.

  What they did then doesn’t matter. What matters is now.

  And now she had an answer to one question that had been nagging her since she saw her parents pretending to fight on the sidewalk. Jeannie and Todd had definitely been in the area much longer than they’d admitted. They’d had plenty of time to get settled, to find her and follow her. Beth closed her eyes against the phantom pain in her skull.

  Plenty of time to find out everything they needed to know about Dana.

  Beth’s eyes flew open.

  And Doug.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon on what has to be classed as one of the worst days ever,” Dana muttered to herself. “Here is Dana Fraser, and what is she doing?”

  Dana shook the water droplets off her fingers and watched them skitter and dance across the hot griddle. “She’s making pancakes. Fucking pathetic.”

  She took the pat of butter she had wrapped in a paper towel and rubbed it on the griddle. It hissed and steamed. She inhaled the warm scent. Usually it made her happy. Today, nothing.

  Her few hours of sleep hadn’t straightened her head out at all. Everything was still one great, huge, honking mess. The grandmother she’d just met was in the hospital and was probably dying of cancer. Her stupid “estranged” father had accused her mother of murder.

  Oh, yeah, and her grandfather was out there somewhere, probably stalking all of them.

  She stirred her batter one more time and drizzled several ladlesful onto the griddle, watching it spread across the hot surface.

  Gradually, the bubbles started rising to the surface of the batter. They popped open soundlessly, leaving holes behind that wouldn’t close.

  Pretty much how I feel. Dana flipped over the first pancake and watched it puff up.

  She heard Mom before she saw her.

  “Hey, Dangerface.”

  Mom had showered and changed. She had her wet hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked normal, like none of the past two days had happened.

  She’s committing fraud.

  “Those smell fantastic.” Mom slid past her, heading straight for the coffee maker. “Thanks for making them.”

  She’s stealing from me.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Dana told her. “I’m half-asleep, and I’m not sure what all I put in here.”

  “Well, I’m starved, so I’m not sure I’m gonna care.”

  She killed a man.

  Dana shoveled the finished pancakes onto the plate she had waiting and ladled on the fresh batter while Mom ground her batch of beans. Dana wanted to face her. She wanted to say, all casual, Hey, you’ll never guess who was at the hospital. Dad! He wasn’t looking so good. What do you think’s up with that?

  But all she did was grit her teeth and watch her batter turn into pancakes. She checked and flipped and watched some more, and did not say anything while the bitter smell of brewing coffee rose up to join the scent of hot sugar and butter.

  Mom pulled the carafe out and poured a cup and added milk from the jug Dana had left out. She leaned her butt back against the counter.

  “There’s something I have to tell you, Dangerface.”

  “Something new?” Dana flipped the last pancake over.

  “Yeah. And the timing is terrible. I meant to tell you before, but everything got crazy.” She swallowed more coffee, made a face, and poured more milk into the mug. “Your father’s in trouble.”

  It was what had been filling Dana’s head, but it was still a shock to hear Mom come out and say it. “What kind of trouble?”

  “I’m still trying to figure that out. It looks like he got caught in some kind of vaporware investment. He’s…he’s probably lost a lot of money.”

  She’s committing fraud. She’s stealing from me.

  Dana did not believe that. She could not believe that, because her father was always so full of it. She knew that. She’d always known that. So, why couldn’t she stop hearing it?

  Do not let him get into your head, Grandma had warned. But he was already there.

  Dana turned off the burner under the griddle. The last three pancakes needed to come off, but she stood there with the spatula up, like she couldn’t remember what to do next. “How come you know about it?”

  “Because he came to find me on Friday, to ask me to use Lumination’s name to…well, help this company, whatever it turns out to be, raise more money.”

  “Oh.” I should have known it was something like that. I never should have believed him, not even for a second. “So, like, when you told me that thing, about the guy who’d got upset at you cuz you turned him down…”

  “That was your father. I’m sorry. Honestly, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you, at least, not until I knew more.”

  Motion returned. Dana shoveled up the pancakes and dumped them onto the stack. “Food,” she said.

  Mom got out plates. Dana put the platter on the breakfast bar and retrieved the butter and the maple syrup.

  “Do you know more now?” Dana asked as she climbed up on the high stool.

  “Not really.”

  Dana focused on drizzling sharp zigzags of syrup over her pancakes. In an actual restaurant, you were supposed to be able to do this in the same pattern, every single time. “What are you going to do?”

  She heard Mom’s fork tink against the plate.

  “I don’t know yet. But what I do know is you’re going to have to go away for a while.”

  Dana’s head jerked up and her hand wobbled, turning her neat zig into a squiggle. “What? Why!”

  “It’s just until I’ve cleared things up with your father, and Todd and Jeannie.” Mom mumbled the names through a mouthful of pancakes. “I am not going to be able to do all that and look after you.”
<
br />   “Who says you have to look after me?” You can’t! she screamed inside. I’ll never find out what’s going on! Then: You don’t want me to find out what’s going on. Because that was what her mother did. She told the truth in bits and pieces, when she was damn good and ready, or when she had no choice. It was what she had done Dana’s whole life. “You’re still only fifteen,” Mom said. Of course. Because she was still a mom.

  “For two more weeks,” Dana reminded her. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Normally, yes, but Todd…he’s already turning violent. He might come after me. Or Jeannie. Or you.”

  Dana didn’t want to talk about that. Or think about it. Instead, she ate. More like wolfed. She was starving. Mom didn’t even bother to tell her to slow down. Not like she was exactly holding back either. Despite everything, that made Dana feel better. She could still do something right, and Mom was still acting at least a little bit normal.

  “So what are you going to do?” said Dana finally. “Hire a bodyguard and send me to a cabin in the woods?”

  “Kind of.” Mom speared another pancake off the pile. “There is an enrichment camp out in Connecticut. It’s for kids whose parents…are better off but might be having legal problems and the kids need to be somewhere else while they get sorted out.”

  “There’s a summer camp for the kids of bad billionaires? No, wait.” Dana waved her full fork at Mom to cut her off. “Of course there is. Cuz this is America. Jesus.”

  “I know, right?”

  “How do you even know this one percenters camp will take me?”

  That got her a tired smile. “We are one percenters, Dana, and they’re holding a slot for you.”

  Did you set this up in case you had to run? Dana sawed her pancake into perfect little squares, trimming off the curved parts and eating them first. In case the police came after you? And you never told me. I’m the one this is happening to, and you never—

  Don’t think like that! Don’t!

  “What if nothing happens?” she asked out loud. “What if everything is okay?”

  “We can’t count on that. I’m sorry. This is happening. You are leaving Wednesday.”

  “But my internship. They only take two high school students a year!”

  “This is not your decision, Dana.” Mom’s voice was flat and hard, and very final. “And they know emergencies happen. This is an emergency.”

  “It’s not an emergency. Not a real one. It’s not like anybody’s died!” Dana knew she was whining, and she sounded pathetic, but she couldn’t stop. This was important. Mom knew it was the most important thing so far in her life, and she was acting like she didn’t care.

  “I’m supposed to go fill out my paperwork tomorrow!”

  “Dana, this is not your decision.”

  Dana tossed her fork down and folded her arms. This was it. Everything was now officially destroyed. She had been looking forward to this for months. The second she had toured the kitchen at the Vine and Horn, she had been able to see herself standing there with all those focused, frantic, laughing, swearing people making all that gorgeous food. She had known instantly that this was when her life was really going to get started.

  And now Mom was telling her she had to give it up like it was no big deal. Just because Mom was afraid of her grandparents and her pathetic father.

  Because she doesn’t want me to know what’s really happening with my own family. Again!

  The leftover pancake-and-syrup flavor suddenly felt too thick on Dana’s tongue. She reached for her juice, but Mom touched her hand to stop her.

  “I did not want any of this for you,” Mom said. “I do know what this summer meant to you…”

  Meant—note the use of the past tense.

  “But I cannot leave you where Todd or your father can get to you if they decide you might be useful to them.”

  Anger poured through her—thick, putrid, blinding. All she wanted was for her mother to feel it, all the way down in her veins. Dana had nowhere to hide—her mother shouldn’t either.

  “If you’re really that worried about what Todd’s gonna do, can’t you just call the police?” she heard herself saying.

  But Mom was already shaking her head. “I wish I could, but what would I tell them? I can say he hit Jeannie, but nothing’s going to happen unless she presses charges, and maybe not even then. And I can tell you for a fact she is not going to press charges.”

  “Well, you could at least get them to open a file! They do that, right? We could—”

  “We can’t, Dana!” shouted Mom, but then she tried to take it back. “At least, we can’t yet. Maybe later.”

  “Later? This is not a trip to the zoo!” Dana shouted back. “You do not get to hide from me! You do not get to make another secret out of me, or them, or anything! This is my life! Anybody would think you were scared of the cops!”

  Mom’s face went hard, and the raw, hot resentment that was so awful and familiar shone in her eyes. For a moment, it felt like victory.

  “What’s going on, Dana? What do you want from me?”

  I want you to know you can’t keep this from me anymore. “I want to know if you ever killed somebody.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “What?” Beth heard herself say.

  She was not stunned. She was not hurt. Dana’s words rocketed her past either of those things into a numb state of being where thought and breath were equally inaccessible.

  “I want to know…”

  Dana’s condescending singsong snapped Beth back into herself. “Where did that even come from?” Beth didn’t wait for her answer. “This is Jeannie. She told you.”

  “No.”

  “Then who?!”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, Dana! It really does!”

  “Then it’s true! That’s why you won’t go to the police! You’re afraid they’ll find out!”

  Slowly, Beth got up and walked over to the balcony doors. She told herself she was looking for her father, or her mother, or Doug. That was irrational but more acceptable than being afraid of her own child.

  Beth tried to imagine what her daughter must be going through. Her secrets were more than burdens. They were vicious, living things with claws and fangs. She tried to imagine what it would be like the first time they came bursting out of the dark.

  Every old instinct in her screamed at her to lie. To feed the monsters so they would go back to sleep.

  No, I never actually killed anybody. I did come close once.

  Beth licked her lips. She tasted copper and iron and gunpowder.

  Dana wasn’t going to let her go. She marched right up to the balcony doors to stand in front of Beth, defiant and frightened like the child she still was.

  “What happened? Tell me!”

  It was after your grandparents left me. I was trying to steal his car…

  She looked at her daughter. Took in her defiant, amazing self. Beth curled her fingers around the pull handle on the door, like she was thinking of escape.

  “It’s true, Dana,” she said. “His name was Robert MacNamera Early.”

  Beth waited for the flashback, for the shakes and violent tears that used to leave her crouching on the floor of her therapist’s office. Or maybe there would be some sense of relief. Confession was supposed to be good for you, wasn’t it? But Beth just felt…gray.

  “He’d held me hostage for three days,” she said. “He was waiting for my parents to come back so he could kill them.”

  “Oh,” breathed Dana. Beth didn’t let her get any further.

  “It had been a pretty good time for us, as things went, before…that,” she said. “We’d been able to stick around this one town for…it was at least a year. Maybe a little longer. We had an actual apartment. Top floor of a house out by the freeway. It was pretty crappy, but it was better than a lot of places we’d stayed. Mom had a job as a delivery driver. At least, that’s what she told me she was doing.”

  Dana
looked away. So. She already knew that “deliveries” weren’t what Jeannie was doing. Beth sighed. She’d have to find out just what Jeannie had said.

  One more thing for the to-do list.

  “So, anyway, we had money. Which meant Dad was in a good mood most of the time. I was actually in school. I hated it. I was pretty sure all the kids and teachers hated me, but you know, it was better than other stuff, so I went. What happened…It started on a Saturday morning. I was home, watching TV.”

  She could still see the room. It had a pea green carpet, with three cigarette holes and a grungy path worn down the middle leading from the couch to the kitchen area, which was marked out by curling, speckled linoleum tile. The TV sat on a cart that had only three wheels. Somebody had shoved a wad of tinfoil under the spot where the fourth one should have been, to make the cart sit sort of level.

  There was one other room where her parents slept. Star—she was still Star then—slept on the beige striped fold-out couch, which also had three cigarette holes, just like the carpet.

  Mom had said they were looking for a better place. Mom said it’d be soon.

  “My parents told me they were going out for groceries. They told me to lock the door and stay inside. I didn’t think anything of it. They did that a lot, especially when we were staying in the crap motels. I pretty much ignored them.”

  Beth shrugged. Dana shook her head. Right. What’s this got to do with anything?

  “But that time, I did stay in. Did some homework. Read. Watched more TV. It got dark. They didn’t come back. I wasn’t worried. Well. Okay. I was worried, because I thought it meant they’d gotten into trouble and we were going to have to hit the road again.

  “When they weren’t back in the morning, I got a little more worried. I figured I’d better be ready to go. So I went out to the gas station and I bought some Slim Jims and peanuts and stuff so there’d be something to eat in case we had to drive all night.”