As the Light Fades (ARC)

by Catherine West

  “Well, it is one of my talents.” He pushed the envelope toward her. “Friends in high places and all that. So. You can have these back, since they seem to mean so much to you. And a little something for your trouble.”

  Liz steeled herself against the urge to grab the envelope and run. Instead, she nodded, lifted the flap, and looked inside. The photos were there. Along with a check. She inhaled and slowly let out her breath. “I don’t want your money.”

  “It’s yours anyway.” He played with the gray cashmere scarf around his neck. “And you’re right. Even with your testimony, I doubt they’ll convict me. Alannah has . . . issues. But I knew you’d see reason, Lizzie. You always do.”

  “Don’t come here again.” She worked to keep her voice level. To hide her fear. “Don’t contact me or any of my family. I want you gone from my life, Laurence. Like you never existed.”

  He studied her for a long moment, then flashed the smile she’d come to fear. “I’ve got much better things to do with my time, darling. I’m so glad we had this little chat, but I really must go. I’m flying out in half an hour. You’re welcome to come and watch the plane take off if you like.”

  “Just go, Laurence.” She shook her head as he stood and tried to reach for her hand. “Just go.”

  She watched him bang out the door and blinked moisture. Saw David studying her across the room. Heard the chatter of the patrons around her, carrying on with their normal lives, enjoying a normal day. What she wouldn’t give to feel normal again.

  She’d come so close. With Matthew. And her family. Their relationship was better than ever. She felt closer to all her siblings, even Gray, who was still driving her crazy. But what she was about to do could well blow all of that out of the water. Because they’d see her for who she really was.

  Unreliable. Untrustworthy. Weak.

  It was too late for second thoughts. And Liz knew one thing for sure.

  She wouldn’t be testifying at that trial.

  ___________

  Matt packed the last of his clothes into his carry-on and zipped it up. They were catching the afternoon ferry to Hyannis, and Patrick was meeting them, driving them to Boston. Tomorrow they’d see Rachel. She was coming to Pat’s for Thanksgiving, and he’d see how the rest of the weekend would go from there. Mia was nervous and he hated that. Hated all of this.

  Matt shot his head up at the knock on his door, surprised to see his father standing there.

  “May I come in?” Dad looked a little wary, like he wouldn’t be welcomed.

  Matt shrugged, put his case on the floor, and tried a smile. “Sure.”

  Dad walked across the rug and stood in front of the window that faced the ocean. Let out a long sigh then turned, holding out a white envelope. “Would you please give this to your sister?”

  Matt swallowed and moved in slow motion. Took the envelope from his father and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. “What is it?”

  Dad found the chair in the corner of the room and sat, hands on his knees. Behind the black frames, his eyes grew moist. He cleared his throat. “A letter. An apology. I’d like to give it in person, but she won’t see us. What do you think the chances she’ll change her mind are?”

  Slim to none. Matt shrugged. “No idea. But it’s worth a shot.”

  “Yes, well.” He sniffed and folded his hands in his lap. “I owe you an apology as well. I know I was too hard on you growing up. I should never have pushed my hopes for you so hard. Should have let you go to art school. It’s what you were meant to do. I’m sorry I didn’t see that our relationship was more important than getting my way.”

  “Wow.” The word popped out and Matt couldn’t take it back.

  “And I know what you must think of me, of my behavior toward those young women.” He blanched and studied his shoes for a moment. “I’ve apologized to each of them. To your mother. And I am trying to change. I hope you can believe that.”

  The room grew warm as the winter sun shone through the windowpanes, reaching toward him like a gentle prod.

  Forgiveness. Grace. Mercy. All those things he said he believed in, stood for. When it came down to it, Matt knew he’d failed. Knew he’d held onto his anger. Anger he really didn’t have a right to. Because he’d made his own mistakes. He’d been self-righteous and stubborn. It had kept him from forgiving his father for so many things. Even now, when his parents were clearly trying to make amends, he’d held himself at arm’s length, pride preventing him from giving them the simplest gift of all.

  He paced the room, heart heavy as he processed the past, finally coming to that place where the road parted. He could continue down the path of the familiar or step over onto a new path. One that might lead to a very different future. For all of them.

  “I’m sorry too.” He made a slow turn and walked to where his father sat. “I’ve held onto all of this for far too long. And life’s too short for that.” He held out a hand. “I forgive you, Dad. I know you’ve always wanted the best for me. My life worked out the way it was meant to. I’m happy. So what say we move on?”

  Dad stood with a grunt and clasped Matt’s hand in his. “I would like that, son. Very much.” They didn’t hug. But the smile his father gave him felt as good as one.

  “This doesn’t mean I’m over everything.” Matt had to be honest. “That could take a while.”

  “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

  Matt grinned. It was such a typical Dad-ism. “You would know.”

  His father laughed. “I was thinking, maybe in the summer we can get out on the water, hmm? I’m not much of a sailor, but I’d love to learn.”

  “I think we can do that.” Matt nodded. “I’d like that a lot.”

  ___________

  He and Mia sat on the couch in Pat’s living room, the day after Thanksgiving, the whole brood filling every available space as they watched the game, cheering and booing and talking over the sportscasters. Mia was drawing in her sketchbook like her life depended on it. And suddenly the crowded room was the last place Matt wanted to be.

  He tapped his niece on the shoulder. “I’m going to the kitchen for some ice cream.”

  She looked up, her eyes filled with that familiar fear he’d so hoped was long gone. But it had returned the moment she’d seen her mother that morning. And Matt didn’t know how to get rid of it. “Want some? Think there’s still some chocolate left.”

  Mia nodded, held her sketchbook to her chest and shuffled behind him to the kitchen. Patrick’s mom and Kathleen were doing the last of the dishes.

  “We came for ice cream.” Matt tried to sound bright but heard the strain in his voice. They all knew this had been difficult for Mia. For him too. Rachel had tried too hard. Forcing conversation. Asking Mia too many questions. She’d suggested lunch tomorrow at her apartment. So she could show Mia where she was living and how nice it was. Matt wanted to give his sister the benefit of the doubt, but history stood in the way. She’d taken the letter from Dad though. Probably hoping there was money in it. He prayed there wasn’t.

  “Plenty left, we’ll leave you to it.” Trish kissed him on the cheek as she and her daughter-in-law left the room. Matt sank into a chair at the table, suddenly exhausted.

  Mia put down her sketchpad. “I guess I’ll get the ice cream then.”

  A few moments later they were eating out of the carton because she couldn’t find any clean bowls. Matt wasn’t even hungry, but needed something to do.

  “You still mad at Liz?” Mia asked.

  He studied the clock on the wall and put his spoon down on a paper towel. “I don’t understand why she won’t testify. It’s the right thing to do.” Ever since she’d stupidly met with the man, her mind was made up. She wouldn’t do it, and no amount of arguing would sway her.

  “She’s probably scared.” Mia scraped what was left out of the carton and into her mouth. “I would be.”

  “Yeah.” He put his hands behind his head. Of course she was scared. He knew that. “I
guess that’s it. She said he didn’t threaten her, but he must have. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Whatever. He’ll probably get off anyway.” Mia pushed hair behind her ears and met his eyes. “So. Are you going to tell me to go see my mom tomorrow?”

  Oh, boy. Matt tried to smile but didn’t have it in him. “Do you want to go?”

  She shrugged in that nonchalant manner that hid her true feelings. “I sort of do. Is that weird?”

  “Mia.” He sighed and splayed his hands on the table. “She’s your mom. If you want to go over there, that’s your decision. I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

  “She seemed different, though, right? Like she was before? When she wasn’t using.”

  That was true. Rachel looked good. Too thin, but then she always had been. And she did seem more at peace. He’d scrutinized her carefully and been satisfied with what he’d seen. For now. “She’s definitely not using. So there’s that.” He fiddled with his phone and wished Elizabeth were here. She’d know what to say.

  “I’ll just go for lunch, like we talked about. Then we can go see that movie if you want.”

  “Sounds good. Make sure your phone is charged.” He could insist on going with her, and he wanted to, but that probably wouldn’t be fair to Mia or Rachel. He put his head in his hands and wished his gut wasn’t churning like he could hurl any moment.

  “Uncle Matt?”

  “Yeah.” He looked up and swallowed the tightness in his throat.

  Mia’s smile twisted his heart inside out. “It’ll be okay.”

  He wasn’t so sure. But he couldn’t be there for her every second, much as he wanted to be. He could easily talk her out of going. But this was her journey. And at some point, he needed to trust that she would find the right path.

  thirty-three

  Mia got off the T on Saturday and checked the directions her mom texted her that morning. She walked a few blocks south and found the apartment building easily enough. Uncle Matt was hanging back at the house with Uncle Pat. At first, she wasn’t sure he’d let her come by herself, but when he’d asked if she wanted him to come, she’d hesitated. Part of her wanted him there, but it had been tense enough between them on the first day. She’d get a better read on how her mom was really doing without Uncle Matt hovering, waiting for his sister to slip up. So she’d come alone.

  Her cell buzzed just as she was about to enter. She stepped back and fished it from her coat pocket. Chris.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He sounded weird.

  “What’s up?”

  “My uncle died. Around two this morning.”

  “Oh man.” Mia leaned against the wall and shut her eyes. “You okay?”

  “I guess. It’s just busy around here today. Lots of people coming and going. Discussing funeral arrangements and all.”

  “How’s Nick?”

  His sigh said not good. “You know. He’ll be okay. Lynnie hasn’t left his side. She’s holding him together I think.”

  “That’s good.” She had so many questions she wanted to ask. Namely, did this mean he’d be going back to New York. But now wasn’t the time. “Well, hang in there. I’ll see you when I get back on Sunday.”

  “Can’t wait.” She could imagine his grin and wished she hadn’t fallen so hard.

  “I gotta go. Talk to you soon. Tell everyone I’m sorry.” She hung up quick before she said something stupid. Like, love you. Because she wasn’t sure if she did. But she might.

  Ridiculous.

  Mia stared at the door of the apartment building, took a breath, and went inside. It was warm and smelled like curry and meatloaf and turkey. Gross. She walked two flights of stairs and found the apartment. Unzipped her coat, bit the side of her cheek, and forced herself to knock. It would be okay. That’s what she’d told Uncle Matt. That’s what she had to believe.

  Mom flung open the door and grabbed her. “Mia!” She pulled her against her thin frame and hugged her too hard. She smelled like fast food and cigarettes. And nothing like home. “You came! I’m so glad.”

  Mia stepped back too quickly. “I said I would.” She glanced around the dimly lit apartment.

  “Come on in. Take your coat off. Let me show you around.” She took Mia’s coat and hung it on a hook on the wall. Mia slipped out of her boots, glad she’d worn thick socks, because the wood floor was cold.

  There wasn’t much to see. The living room was boxy with a beat-up couch and two recliners, and a TV. A scratched coffee table held an overflowing ashtray, a couple of Dunkin Donuts cups, and a beer bottle. Mia’s heart clenched. Mom chatted away as two cats jumped off the bed in the small room beside an even smaller bathroom. Mia side-stepped the animals. She hated cats.

  “Let’s go to the kitchen and get you something to eat, huh?” Mom still held her hand. Her grip was tight and she looked so happy. “Is your uncle feeding you properly? He wasn’t much of a cook as I recall.”

  Mia managed to pry her hand away. “Uncle Matt cooks great.”

  Mom gave a little sniff and tossed her head. Her hair was too dark and made her skin look pale, like she was sick or something. “Well. Once you come home, we’ll fatten you up.”

  “I’m fine.” And I’m not coming home. She bit that back and trailed her mother into a tiny kitchen. “What the—?” Mia felt the room closing in. Hands closing around her throat. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. And thought she might pass out.

  Joe Giovanni sat at the kitchen table. Looking like he owned the place. “Hey, kid. Surprise.” The glint in his dark eyes made Mia’s blood run cold.

  Her mother went to stand behind his chair and put her hands on his shoulders. “I didn’t want to tell you yesterday because I knew Matt would freak out. But Joe and I got back together. Isn’t that great?”

  No, no, no. Mia pushed trembling hands through her hair, her throat dry.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything, kid?” Joe tugged at his t-shirt and got to his feet. He was already wasted. She recognized the slur and the sway. “Come on, it hasn’t been that long. Give your old man a hug.”

  Every muscle in her body went rigid, and she recoiled from his outstretched hand. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Mia, don’t start that crap again.” Mom sighed with the look Mia was too familiar with.

  Joe raised his hands and backed off, his grin leering. “Don’t be coming in here with that attitude. Nobody needs that the day after Thanksgiving.” He cursed and sat again, glaring at her mother. “Told you nothing would change. Living with that brother of yours, she’ll have me arrested before you can say jack squat.”

  “Joe, please . . .” Mom wound her hands together and shot Mia a scared look.

  “Ah, shut up,” Joe barked. “Get me a beer. What time are we eating? I’m starved.”

  “I have to go to the bathroom.” Mia turned and fled the room. Locked herself in the small bathroom, leaned over the toilet, and threw up. Then she perched on the edge of the tub and pulled her phone from her jeans, thankful she hadn’t left it in her coat. Her hands shook so bad she could barely punch in Uncle Matt’s number.

  It rang through to his voicemail. Unbelievable! Mia swore and smacked the side of the tub. She couldn’t call Chris, that wasn’t fair. She took a trembling breath and pressed another button.

  “Mia? What’s up?” Liz picked up right away, and Mia’s eyes filled.

  “He . . . he’s here . . . and I don’t know what to do.” Her words tumbled out through tears.

  “Mia.” Liz’s calm, take-charge tone fell over her. “Take a breath, sweetie. Where are you?”

  “At my mom’s. In the bathroom.” Her breath hitched, and she worked to steady her breathing.

  “At your mom’s? Okay. Is your uncle there?”

  “No. Just my mom. And Joe. They’re in the kitchen.”

  “Joe? Your stepfather?”

  “Uh huh.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I didn’t know he was here. I didn’t . . . I can’t get
hold of Uncle Matt. I don’t know what to do.”

  Liz muttered something that Mia didn’t catch. “Mia, listen to me. You can leave. Say you don’t feel well. Just go. Do you know how to get back to where you’re staying?”

  “Yeah. I took the T here.” Mia rubbed a hand across her face. “What if he follows me?”

  “I don’t think he will, hon. But stay close to other people. Go now, walk as fast as you can, and call me back when you’re out of there. I’m going to try to get hold of your uncle. Okay?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “I know you are.” Liz sounded like she might be crying too. “But you can do this. You can be brave. You are brave, Mia Stone. Trust me on that.”

  “Okay.” She washed her face and walked back to the living room. She slipped on her boots and grabbed her jacket.

  “What are you doing?” Mom stood in the doorway of the kitchen, cigarette in hand. “We’re about to eat. I’m gonna order pizza.”

  “I don’t feel good.” Mia pushed her hands through the sleeves of her coat as quickly as she could. “I have to go.”

  Joe appeared and shook his bald head with a groan. “Really, Mia?”

  Somehow she met his eyes. “I don’t have to stay. Neither of you can make me. I don’t have to be around you one minute more. And if you come after me, I will call the cops.”

  “Oh, for the love, Mia! Stop with the drama. You haven’t changed a bit.” Mom blew smoke, her lips curled in disgust.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Joe laughed. “You run away like a scared little rabbit. See if we care. All your lies about me don’t mean squat, kid.”

  “They’re not lies.” Mia set her jaw and opened the door. “You know what you did. And so does she.” She slammed the door as hard as she could, called Liz back, and didn’t stop running until she got on the T and the doors slid closed.

  ___________

  Matt finally left Mia’s room, his heart shattered. Why her first call hadn’t come through, he didn’t know. When Elizabeth had called to let him know what was happening, he’d run out of Pat’s house so fast a car almost hit him as he raced across the street. He ran the five blocks toward the T stop, lungs burning. When he saw Mia trudging up the steps, he wanted to fall to his knees and cry with relief. She fell against him with an anguished sob and said the words he thought he’d never hear. “Take me home. I just want to go home. Back to Nantucket.”