“I can’t,” Finn shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Wendy?” The front door swung open, and Matt leaned out, interrupting my conversation with Finn.
I became acutely aware of how close we were sitting together. Our knees were nearly touching, and Finn had actually leaned in towards as me. As soon as Matt came out, I automatically moved back a bit, and Finn saw that, so he mimicked it and sat up straighter.
“Uh, yeah?” I felt kind of dazed, but I was starting to realize that was just the effect Finn had on me. Matt was glaring at both of us, and I wanted to glare back, but I couldn’t muster it.
“Don’t you have homework?” Matt made it sound like a command.
“I don’t know,” I floundered.
“Why don’t you come in anyway.” That definitely was an order.
“Okay.” I waited a second for him to go back inside so I could say good-bye to Finn privately, but Matt was going to stay planted in the door until I went in. Sheepishly, I turned to Finn. “Thanks for stopping over.”
“Just think about things.” Finn stood up, and I looked up into his dark eyes. I would be devastated if I never got to see them again, and just knowing that he was leaving now made me want to cry. He pointed to the piece of paper in my hands. “Keep in touch. Okay?”
“I will,” I promised, and a trace of his smile played on his lips.
Finn nodded at Matt when he walked past him, who just glowered in return. I stayed on the porch until Finn drove away, and Matt kept his post, as if Finn would suddenly dash up and kidnap me the second he went inside. I rubbed the paper in my hands and wondered how long I could go before I talked to him.
“Are you coming?” Matt asked, not unkindly.
I was staring down at the note, already feeling the sting of Finn’s absence. Why wouldn’t I go with him? I was more attracted to him than I had ever been to anyone, and I don’t mean just physically. In general, people didn’t interest me, but he did. He was promising me a life where I fit in, where I was special, and maybe most importantly, a life with him. What was I staying here for? It wasn’t just because of Matt. I would have to leave him eventually, and it would probably be fairly soon, with or without Finn.
The problem was that I just wasn’t convinced, not entirely. I had always been a logical person, and I very rarely let emotion guide me. Okay.
That’s not true at all. I let anger and annoyance dictate everything, but I had never let longing cloud anything before. It was a new kind of emotion, so I didn’t trust it or my own judgment. If there were just some proof, I could go happily with Finn…
“Wendy?” Matt repeated.
“Hey, Matt?” I stared down at the paper. “Are you busy this afternoon?”
“I don’t think so…” Matt answered tentatively. He had come out of the house and walked over to me. “Why? What’s on your mind?”
“I was thinking… I’d like to go visit Mom.”
“Absolutely not!” Matt was livid. “Why would you even want that?
That’s so completely out of the question. No way, Wendy. That’s just obscene.”
I looked up at him, staring into his angry, confused blue eyes, and tried to remember what I had done with Patrick and Maggie. According to Finn, I had probably been using persuasion for awhile, but I had never purposely done it before. It had always been something accidental. And if I could use it, I hadn’t been doing it long enough to be that good at it, and Matt was very adamant against me seeing my mother, so he might not be able to be convinced even if I did have it.
Staring directly in his eyes, I just repeating the same thoughts over and over. I want to see Mom. Take me to see her. Please. I want to see her. His expression was hard, but eventually, it started to soften around the edges. It took longer than it had with Patrick or Maggie. If somebody were watching, it would’ve been much more obvious that something was going on.
“I’ll take you to see Mom.” Matt sounded like he was talking in his sleep, and I instantly felt guilty for what I was doing. It was manipulative and cruel. But I wasn’t just doing it to see if I could. I needed to see Mom, and this was the only way I could do it.
“Okay,” I stood up quickly and carefully tucked Finn’s note in my pocket. “Let’s go before Maggie asks too many questions. Or any for that matter.”
Matt nodded. He went into the house to grab his car keys and let Maggie know that we were going for a “drive.” I felt nervous and sick, and I knew Matt would be irate once he figured out what was going on. I didn’t know how long this persuasion would last. We might not even make it to the hospital where Mom lived, but I had to try. We got in the car, and Matt started driving me to see my mother for the first time in over eleven years.
8
There were several times throughout the long car ride that Matt seemed to become aware that he was doing something he would never do. He would start ranting about how terrible Mom was and that he couldn’t believe he’d let me talk him into this. Somehow, it never occurred to him to turn around, but maybe it couldn’t occur to him.
“She’s a horrible person!” Matt snarled as we approached the state hospital. I could see the internal battle waged underneath his grimace and his tortured blue eyes. His hand was locked tightly on the steering wheel, but it looked like he was trying to pull it away and he couldn’t.
Guilt flushed over me again, but I tried to push it away. I didn’t want to hurt him, and controlling him like this was reprehensible. Before when I’d done it, it had been accidental, but I had done this knowing exactly what I was doing and how it would make him feel. The only real comfort I had was that I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I wanted to see my mom, and I had every right to. Matt was just being overzealous about his protective duties, once again.
“She can’t do anything to hurt me,” I reminded him for the hundredth time. “She’s locked up and medicated. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s not like she’s going to strangle you or anything,” Matt allowed, but there was an edge to his voice where he hadn’t completely ruled out that possibility. “She’s just… a bad person. I don’t know what you hope to gain from seeing her!”
“I just need to,” I said softly and looked out at the window.
I had never been to the hospital, but it wasn’t exactly as I imagined. My entire basis for it was Arkham Asylum, so I had always pictured an imposing brick structure with lightning always flashing just behind it. It was raining lightly and the skies were overcast as we pulled up, but that was the only thing similar to the psychiatric hospital of my fantasies. Nestled in thick pine forest and rolling grassy hills, it was a sprawling white building. It looked more like a resort than a hospital.
After Mom had tried to kill me and Matt had tackled her in the kitchen, Maggie had called 911. Mom was hauled off in a police car, still screaming things about me being monstrous, and I was taken away in an ambulance.
Charges were brought against my mother, but the case never went to trial. She plead out, claiming she was not guilty by insanity. Matt had been very upset about that, but he had thought that she would be out in no time at all. They had originally given her cross diagnosis of latent postpartum depression and temporary psychosis brought on by the death of my father. With medication and therapy, there had been the general expectation that she would be out in a relatively short amount of time.
Cut to eleven years later where my brother is talking to the security guard so we can get clearance to get inside. From what I understand, she refused to admit any remorse for what she’s done. Matt went to visit her once, five years ago, and what I got out of it is that she didn’t know she did anything wrong. It was inferred, but never actually spelled out, that there was a fairly good chance that if she got out, she’d do it again.
There was a great deal of bustling about once we finally got inside. A nurse had to call a psychiatrist to see if I would even be able to see her. Matt paced anxiously around me, muttering things about everyone being insane. We waite
d in a small room filled with plastic chairs and magazines for 45 minutes until the doctor came to meet with me. We had a brief conversation where I assured him that I only wished to speak with her, and he seemed to think it might be beneficial for me to have some closure.
Matt wanted to go back with me to see her, afraid that she would damage me in some way, but the doctor assured him that orderlies would be present and my mother wasn’t prone to violence. He eventually relented, much to my relief, because I had just been about use persuasion on him. He couldn’t be there when I talked to her. I wanted an honest conversation, and I didn’t know how he’d react.
A nurse led me back to an activity room of some kind. They were a few small tables, some of them with half-completed puzzles on them, a couch and a few chairs. On one wall, there was a cabinet overflowing with beat up games and battered puzzles. Plants lined the windows, but otherwise it was deserted.
The nurse assured me that my mother would be here soon. I sat down at one of the tables and waited.
A very large, very strong looking orderly brought her into the room. I stood up when she came in, as some kind of misplaced show of respect. She was older than I had expected her to be. In my mind she had stayed frozen the way I saw her last, but she had to be in her mid-forties by now. Her blond hair had turned into a frizzy mess thanks to the years of neglect, and she had it pulled back in a short pony tail. She was model thin, the way she had always been, in a beautifully elegant borderline-anorexic way. A massive blue bathrobe hung on her, frayed and worn, the sleeves hung long down over her hands.
Underneath, she wore generic, ill-fitting scrubs. Her skin was pale porcelain, and even without any makeup, she was stunningly beautiful. More than that, she carried this regality with her. It was clear that she had come from money, that she had spent her life on top, ruling her school, her social circles, even her family. Her eyes were an icy blue, staring at me with the same cold indifference they always had.
“They said you were here, but I didn’t believe them,” Mom gave me a wry smirk. She stood a few steps away from me, and I wasn’t sure what to do.
The way she looked at me was the same way someone might inspect a particularly heinous looking bug just before they squashed them under their shoe.
“Hi, Mom,” I offered meekly, unable to think of anything better to say.
“Kim,” she corrected me coldly. “My name is Kim. Cut the pretense.
I’m not your mother, and we both know it.” She gestured vaguely to the chair I had pushed out behind me and walked over to the table. “Sit. Take a seat.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, sitting down. She sat down across from me, crossing her legs and leaning back away from me, like I was contagious and she didn’t want to get sick.
“That’s what this is about it, isn’t it?” Mom waved her hand in front of her face, then laid it delicately on the table. Her nails were long and perfect, recently painted with a clear polish. “You’ve finally figured it out. Or have you always known? I never could tell.”
“No, I never knew,” I admitted quietly. “I still don’t know.”
“Look at you. You’re not my daughter,” Mom gave me a contentious look and clicked her tongue. “You don’t know how to dress or walk or even speak. You mutilate your nails.” She pointed her manicured hand at my chewed down fingernails. “And that hair!”
“Your hair isn’t any better,” I countered. My dark curls had been pulled up in their usual bun, but I had actually tried this morning when I was getting ready. I thought it looked pretty good, but apparently, I was wrong.
“Well…” Mom smiled humorlessly. “I work with what I got.” She looked away for a moment, then turned back to me, her icy gaze resting on me.
“But what about you? You must have all the styling products in the world.
Between Matthew and Maggie, I’m sure you’re spoiled rotten.”
“I get by,” I allowed sourly. She made it sound like I should feel ashamed for the things I had, like I had stolen them. Although, I suppose in her mind, I kind of had.
“Who brought you here anyway?” The idea had just occurred to her, and she glanced behind her, as if she expected to see Matt or Maggie waiting in the wings.
“Matt,” I answered.
“Matthew?” Mom looked genuinely shocked. “There is no way he would condone this. He doesn’t even…” Sadness washed across her face and she shook her head. “He’s never understood. I did what I did to protect him too. I never wanted you to get your claws into him.” She touched at her hair and tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back and her stony expression returned.
“He thinks he has to protect me,” I informed her, mostly because I knew it would bother her. Disappointingly, she didn’t look that upset. She just nodded understanding.
“For all his sense and maturity, Matthew can be incredibly naive. He thought of you as some lost, sick puppy he needed to care for.” She brushed a frizzy stand of hair from her forehead and stared off at a spot on the floor. “He loves you because he’s a good man, like his father, and that has always been his weakness.” Then she looked up hopefully. “Is he going to visit me today?”
“No.” I almost felt bad about telling her that, but she smiled bitterly at me and I remembered why she was here.
“You’ve turned him against me. I knew you would. But…” She shrugged emptily. “It doesn’t make things easier, does it?”
“I don’t know.” I leaned in towards her. “Look, M-… Kim. I am here for a reason. I want to know what I am.” I backtracked quickly. “I mean, what you think I am.”
“You’re a changeling,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that by now.”
My heart dropped, but I tried to keep my expression neutral. I pressed my hands flat on the table to keep from them shaking. It was just I had suspected, and maybe I had always known. When Finn told me, it had instantly made sense, but I don’t know why hearing it from her made things feel so different. Maybe because she was an objective third-party. Well, she wasn’t that objective, and she was definitely insane, so she probably wasn’t my best source for advice.
“A changeling?” I fought to keep my voice even. “What does that mean?”
“What do you think it means?” Mom snapped, looking at me like I was an idiot. “Changeling! You were changed out for another child! My son was taken and you were put in his place!” Her cheeks reddened with rage and the orderly took a step closer to her. She held up her hand and fought to keep herself contained.
“Why?” I asked, realizing that I should’ve asked Finn this question days earlier. “Why would anyone do that? Why would they take your baby? What did they do with him?”
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing.” She smiled painfully at me and fresh tears were standing in her eyes. Her hands were trembling when she touched her hair and she all but refused to look at me. “You know what you did with him. You know far better than I do.”
“No, I don’t! What are you talking about?” I demanded in a hushed voice. The orderly was giving me a hard look and I had to at least look I wasn’t freaking out.
“You killed him, Wendy!” Mom snarled, that sad smiled plastered on her face. She leaned in towards me, her hand clenched into a fist, and I knew she was using all her will power to keep from hurting me. “You killed him!”
“Mom…Kim, whatever!” I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples.
“That doesn’t make any sense. I was just a baby! How could I kill anything?”
“How did you get Matthew to drive you here?” Mom demanded through gritted teeth, and an icy chill ran down my spine. I opened my eyes to see her leaning across the table, her face contorted with unmasked hatred. “He would never drive you here. He would never let you see me. But he did. What did you do to him to make him do it?” I lowered my eyes, unable to even pretend to be innocent. “Maybe that’s exactly what you did to Michael!” Her hands were clenched so tightly that her nai
ls were digging into her, creating little half-moon cuts on her palms.
“I was just a baby,” I insisted without any real conviction. “I couldn’t have… Even if I did, there had to be more people involved. I wouldn’t just pick a family. I mean, I couldn’t! It doesn’t explain anything! Why would anybody take him or hurt him and put me in his place?”
“You were always evil,” Mom ignored my question. “I knew it since the moment I held you in my arms.” She had calmed herself a bit and leaned back in her chair. “It was in your eyes. They weren’t human. They weren’t kind or good.”
“Then why didn’t you just kill me then?” I demanded, growing irritated.
“You were a baby!” Her hands were still shaking and her lips had started to quiver. She was losing the confidence she had walked into the room with. “Well, I thought you were. You know I couldn’t be sure.” She pressed her lips together tightly, trying to hold back tears.
“What made you so sure?” I asked. “What made you decide that day?
On my sixth birthday. Why that day? What happened?”
“You weren’t mine. I knew you weren’t.” She brushed at her eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. “I had known forever. But I just kept thinking about what the day should’ve been like. With my husband, and my son. Michael should’ve been six that day, not you. You were a horrible, horrible child, and you were alive. And he was dead. I just… it didn’t seem right anymore.” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “It still isn’t right.”
“I was six years old.” My voice had started quavering, and I was surprised that this had gotten to me so hard. I had never thought this had bothered me. I know that sounds stupid, but I had never felt anything about her or what happened. But I was wrong, because I felt hurt and scared and nauseous. “Six-years-old. Do you understand that? I was a little kid, and you were supposed to be my mother!” Whether she really was or not was irrelevant. I was a child, and she was in charge of raising me. “I had never done anything to anyone! I still haven’t! I never even met Michael!”
Switched Page 10
