by Terina Adams
“Mum—”
“It’s all right, sweetheart. This is what I needed. The raw slap to bring me back. It will be all right now. Things are going to change. Things are going to be good.” She gave me a kiss on the head, then set me free.
I slipped into one of the gray plastic chairs we’d picked up from a garage sale after we sold our more expensive dining room set for cash, and watched Mum open cupboards, looking for anything she could throw together for breakfast. Since I’d been the one to unpack our meager belongings, Mum had no idea where to look.
Giving up on the cupboards, she yanked open the fridge and peered in. There was little inside because I could only carry so many shopping bags home on the bus. “I see milk, eggs.” She looked over at me with a keen grin. “Do we have flour? I could do pancakes.”
Whatever she saw on my face made her smile leave. Perhaps it was nothing more than the sudden realization she was asking her daughter about what food was in the house. Her shame eclipsed her enthusiasm of moments ago.
“Cereal’s fine.”
Mum backed up to give me room while I whipped the cereal out from a low cupboard, then bowls and spoons to save her searching again.
“We have milk.” She moved past without meeting my eyes. “At least I know that.”
To help her forget the embarrassment of how little she knew about her kitchen because she’d struggled to climb out of bed the last two months, I asked her a question. “How are things going to change?”
“I’m going to get a job.”
Mum had never worked before if you didn’t count hosting parties, organizing gala dinners and charity auctions, or arriving looking the million-dollar wife on Dad’s arm to every function they attended.
I tried not to appear incredulous. “Doing what?” I tried but it didn’t work.
Mum waved her hand in the air like she was having a hard time with the answer.
“I could be a waitress…or one of those people who answers phone complaints.” She sounded defensive. She blew out her cheeks because she’d run out of ideas after two. She was trying, and I was making it hard for her. Out of bed before midday was a great turnaround for her, and my interrogation would do nothing but ground down her first steps back into her life. She needed my support, not my skepticism.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure I’ll find something. Some of your father’s old contacts should be able to help me.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I’d heard her wrong, surely.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“You need to ask me that? Mum, Dad’s in jail because of the people he knows.” And a lot more, but none of it was necessary to delve into right now. “Don’t go there, Mum.”
“I’m not meaning anything illegal.”
“That’s all those sorts of people know. They’ll drag you into their world before you know what’s happened.”
“You don’t have to worry about a thing. I can handle myself.” She turned from me and busied herself with the kettle.
She was thin now, thinner than normal. Something she couldn’t disguise under her dress. She looked so frail, a child in need of care from someone capable. I wasn’t ready to be capable. I didn’t know how to be capable, but I was the only one who seemed to be half functioning, and that’s saying something since I felt like I was riding on a landslide most of the time.
“Maybe you should wait and see what Dad can do to help.”
“It’s too dangerous. He’s already in too much trouble. They’ll be keeping a close eye on him. If he’s caught…” She shook her head. “No, it’s up to me. I need to be responsible.”
“But you don’t know how to be responsible.” What the hell? Where was my filter?
Dad had never left anything important up to her. To be honest, it probably had more to do with his obsessive need to be in control of everything than the little trust he placed in Mum’s capability. Nonetheless, Mum had no idea how to stand in this world alone.
Mum’s hand froze mid-scoop of the coffee as our eyes locked. Her expression amplified my feelings.
She was going to get herself in trouble, bad trouble, jailed, or worse, killed. Why couldn’t she go back to bed? I couldn’t believe I was thinking that.
I’d been numb the day strangers entered our home and carried off everything of value. Setting up home in a cheap rental, I’d shut down the emotions that didn’t help, like fear, shame, and my deep well of sadness. I’d endured the humiliation of shopping secondhand for the extras we needed to make this place livable. In a short space of time, I’d learned to ignore any emotion that made me feel weak. I’d fed on my anger of Dad’s betrayal and gained the strength needed to keep my remaining family going. But in the last two months, I’d never felt so caged as I did right now. I was powerless to stop Mum. There was nothing but pain on the road ahead if Mum continued on this path.
Dad could do what I couldn’t. He was the only person I knew who could stop Mum’s destructive determination. But there was a big hurdle to telling him. I was underage, which meant I couldn’t see him without an adult accompanying me.
Before I could reply any further, a message arrived on my phone. I fished it from my back pocket, expecting it to be Holden since he’d continued with his invitation for me to visit his club on the way home last night, and I’d relented and agreed.
Saturday
I stared at the screen. Holden’s name was in my phone. Had it been him, I would see his name. Instead it said unknown. Jax. He’d done as promised.
“I could walk you both to the bus stop today. How’s that sound?”
I could tell by the way she drove the conversation onto safe ground she’d decided our argument finished. Not as far as I was concerned, but all I could think about was the text. Meet him Saturday for what? I should delete it, but I was too afraid of what he would do if I didn’t respond.
I took a deep, shaky breath.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
I jolted. “Huh…what? Nothing.”
“You don’t look happy. Who’s the text from?”
“It’s nothing. Friends. School.” I shrugged then lowered my phone. “Look, Mum. We need to talk about your job idea.”
She sighed and grabbed another cup from the cupboard. “There’s nothing to talk about. Everything will be fine.”
Dammit. She wasn’t going to listen.
I glanced at the text. This Saturday. For what? I had no idea what to say to either Mum or Jax.
“Please promise me you won’t do anything until we’ve talked some more about it.”
“Honey, there is nothing more to talk about.”
“Since our lives have changed drastically, I think it’s time we change the way we functioned as a family, namely a democracy rather than a dictatorship.”
“Sable, honey, don’t be silly. I don’t understand what’s suddenly gotten into you.”
“Fear and determination. It’s amazing what they will make you do. I don’t want to lose any more of my family.”
Mum crumpled, that small frame of hers bowed forward from my verbal punch. When I was about to walk over and give her a hug, my phone signaled another message.
????
Impatient asshole.
“Mum, I’m sorry.”
I wanted my apology to be sincere. Mum deserved that, but I was too distracted. Damn you, Jax.
“I didn’t want to say that.” I wrapped my arms around her neck, shutting out the feeling of her bones poking through her skin.
“It’s all right. I have to stop pretending tomorrow will change.”
“But it can, Mum. We just have to work together.”
She kissed my cheek. I closed my eyes and held on for those extra few moments. When we let each other go, I headed for the door.
“Where are you going? I’m doing you breakfast.”
“I’m swapping my outfit. I think the weather’s going to change later on.”
Clutching my phone, I evaporated from the
kitchen. Once in the hall, the argument vanished as I stared at my screen. Biting my bottom lip, I typed.
Do I get to know what’s happening first?
I chewed my lip some more.
No. Surprises are best.
What the hell? This wasn’t a date.
Not for me, especially since it involves u. I know nothing about u.
I scurried to my room and shut the door before I dared read the next text that came through.
U’ll know me in the end. Perhaps a little too well.
Oh, god, I didn’t like the sound of this. He was going to sink me way deep in something I didn’t want to be a part of. Perhaps I’d end up in jail like Dad.
I don’t want to know u at all, so I’m going to say no until u tell me more.
Remember what I told u last night.
I leapt onto my bed and threw my phone onto the quilt so I could cover my face with my palms. This was so bad. But if I refused? How far would he go to bend me to his will? I glanced around my room, which no longer felt private. It was as though he could look out of my screen and into my heart, look into everything I held special.
I hope ur still there.
I snatched up my phone, inhaled, then typed.
Where and when?
Corner of Lincoln and Forty-Fifth Street. Eleven o’clock.
I might be there.
u better be.
Chapter 6
Ajay’s foot jiggled as he ran his hands over the tattered bear in his lap. Bear came to every visit, his fur now matted gray and both eyes had fallen off.
Mum sat opposite, looking in a compact mirror as she reapplied some lipstick. She’d tried her best, even pulling on one of the dresses Dad loved her in best. Why should we all strive to pretend everything was all right when he’d so thoroughly screwed any chance we had of happiness? Coming here was like playing a game, us acting out the motions and Dad having to guess the truth in our pantomime.
The plastic upright chairs in the visitors’ room made the wait uncomfortable. The sterile smell reminded me of a hospital. It was as if they didn’t want people around so they tried to make the whole experience unpleasant. The worst part was when they brought the dogs through to sniff for drugs. Big dogs with big black eyes, running their noses over our legs and into our bags.
The first time we came, Ajay became so frightened of the dogs Mum yelled abuse at the guard. I wanted nothing better than to shrink a couple of seats away and pretend I wasn’t a part of the family. Instead I intervened to calm Mum down before we managed to get ourselves kicked out of prison. Mum apologized, flushed scarlet, and fell back into her seat. That was the start of her mental unraveling.
I spent time in every lead-up to leaving the house explaining to Ajay that the dogs were necessary for everyone’s safety and had to stay, and that they were specially trained not to bite anyone, yet he still made a huge fuss about not wanting to go. Finally Dad had a private word with him about the visiting experience. Whatever he said worked.
A handful of people waited to be called through. A girl not much older than me slouched in her seat, her mouth working furiously on a piece of gum, picking her nails and looking like she wanted to be elsewhere. I understood the feeling.
I glanced at my phone to make sure Jax was not intent on pestering me any more than he had. Blank screen, good sign. Phone pocketed, I slid down into the seat, folded my arms across my chest. If only I could avoid these visits.
It had been too easy for my dad to fabricate a life. The lies became an infectious disease, fast spreading and difficult to eradicate. They flowed from his tongue with ease. The longevity of his lies would’ve impressed me if I wasn’t so hurt and bitter.
When I was young, he would sit me on his knee and tell me stories about his trips overseas to meet prospective clients, oversee a branch of the company, or make important deals. He talked about the funny people in his business. Everyone had a quirky personality, weird habits, collected bizarre things, or owned exotic pets. The stories were designed to make me laugh, and I did, while gazing adoringly into his eyes and loving him with all my heart. He would tickle me if I dared tell him I didn’t believe him, so I told him often for the love of laughing until I thought I would die, breathlessly begging him to stop.
In my mind, he created a magical world, embellished with vivid scenes. I wanted to travel with him, experience with him, be with him, and had right up until he was led from the courtroom handcuffed, sandwiched between two policemen.
Behind every smile he gave with every story he told was a wall of deceit. And now behind every thought I had of the man I didn’t know was a heart of stone.
“Mrs. Wellcrest.”
Mum lurched from her seat and motioned for Ajay and me to follow.
I took Ajay’s hand and led him through the glass sliding door. On the other side, we submitted to yet more security checks, and as with every other time, Ajay was forced to relinquish Bear to the conveyor belt, under duress, to be x-rayed along with Mum’s bag and anything else we carried. I managed to keep Ajay calm by showing him the insides of Bear on the screen, which never ceased to fascinate him. Once through, we were led to a separate building across a concrete courtyard, which would suck anyone of cheer.
He watched us enter. Seats in the spacious room were occupied by prisoners in orange and their families or friends, yet Dad managed to make himself appear the only one in the room. A broad grin broke across his face as Mum ran into his arms. The guards fidgeted and shifted their weight while nailing my parents with uncompromising glares. Ajay galloped after Mum and I followed with my head down, casting surreptitious glances at the others in the room, who were staring at my parents.
Dad knew not to hug me. He emerged from his embrace with Mum and Ajay, each still on either arm, and stared at me. There was my family, and then there was me, standing on the other side of the table. Two months ago, I would’ve been the first demanding the hugs. Now I was the interloper. I hated him. More so, I hated the feeling of my heart cleaved in two. I glanced away, pretending the people a couple of tables down were more interesting to look at. While I was raw, I couldn’t look at him. He would read it, would know rejecting him hurt me. And I couldn’t let that happen because this place was not punishment enough.
Dad released me from his stare and turned to Mum.
“How you doing, babe?”
“So happy now I’m here.” Mum worked her way back into his embrace, standing on tiptoes to wreathe her arms around his neck.
After squeezing her tight one more time, Dad peeled Mum’s arms away and sat down on one of the small plastic seats. He wanted Mum in his arms, but the guards would likely approach and demand, in not-so-quiet voices, they keep contact to an acceptable minimum.
Dad slung his arm around Ajay’s neck and pulled him in for a rough hug and ruffled his hair. Ajay scrunched up his eyes and giggled. I slid onto a seat opposite, because if I remained standing, everyone in the room would look at me.
“How’s school? You being a good boy?”
He nodded his head and cuddled Bear.
“Is Bear helping you get ready in the morning and helping you get to school by yourself?”
Again Ajay nodded and buried his face in the mangy fur.
“Ajay’s become so independent. He makes his own bed, helps Sable with the lunches, takes himself to school.”
Mum and Dad entwined hands. He ran his free hand through Ajay’s hair again.
“I’m glad to hear.” He glanced down at Ajay with unmistakable feeling.
I looked at the table. I didn’t want to see any emotions on his face.
“And how’s my girl?”
I stared into his eyes and managed a shrug. Mum sat on the right side of him, radiating tension.
“School going well?”
“Uh-huh.”
This was the part I hated the most. He didn’t deserve to have Ajay’s continual devotion or still hold a piece of my heart, and I hated him for being able to tap into t
hat rogue piece sequestered deep inside and pull it out whenever I was with him. I didn’t want to feel anything but anger. All those feelings, like guilt, longing, and affection, kept the link between him and me alive.
In the beginning, I wanted to believe it was a mistake. I swallowed everything Mum and Dad said to me and raged against those who tried to pin the lies on him for revenge, or had the excuse been jealousy? I couldn’t remember now. It took eight months, total invasion of our lives, and exhaustive investigations before the noose was tightened and neither Mum nor Dad could pretend anymore. Then the money disappeared, next the possessions, the house, everything that had made our home, including Dad. And the good emotions went too, sucked down the dark abyss that now encompassed my life.
“Concentrating on your schoolwork, maintaining your good grades. It’s an important year, honey. Got to make it work for you.”
I nodded my head. “Uh-huh.”
Mum intervened by leaning forward and taking his attention. “I don’t know what I would do without Sable. Truth is, baby, I’ve been struggling a bit with everything that’s happened. Sable has stepped in and kept the family functioning.” She glanced around and gave me a pained smile. “My girl.” She gave my hand a squeeze.
“She’s doing well at her new school. She has new friends and her teachers are impressed with her grades.”
Mum did this when we visited. I had little to say, so she filled the silence and my grunts with the answers to Dad’s questions. The first time we returned from a visit, she burst into tears, then demanded to know why I wouldn’t speak to my father. With the deceit still raw, I couldn’t answer. Mum yelled at me for being hateful and cold, then ran to her room. I disappeared into mine and cried until my wet pillow couldn’t hold any more tears. Later that night, she crept into my room and cried a heart-ripping apology, asking me to find some forgiveness for him.
