Not My Mother

by Miranda Smith

  “So, when you left Ava with Des and Michael, was it so you could meet Amelia?”

  “That was the first time she came over, yes. I asked her to meet me at the beach. I thought it would be harder for the press to catch sight of us there.”

  “Well, that didn’t happen. The press is all over this. I’ve tried my best to keep them away from the condo, away from the restaurant, but anywhere else you go is open game. This case has circulated in the media for decades. You didn’t think a public meeting with your biological mother after years of separation would grab people’s attention?”

  “I’m not used to being followed! She reached out to me, and, yes, I wanted to hear what she had to say. She’s the only person who is willing to talk to me anymore without wanting something out of it.”

  Carmen looks as though she’s about to address that dig, but she stops, narrowing her eyes. She circles back around to something I said earlier.

  “You said the first time she came over. Have you seen her again?”

  “She came over this morning.”

  “What was the reason this time?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. “Just to visit. Don’t we have a right to get to know each other?”

  “Of course you do.” Carmen clears her throat. “But like I keep telling you, every action you take right now impacts Eileen’s case. If you’re cozying up to Amelia, or any of the Boones and Parkers, for that matter, it won’t help your mother.”

  “I’m conflicted about helping Mom. Don’t you get that? It’s one thing to not actively hurt her case, but openly defending a kidnapper and murderer doesn’t sit well, either. I can’t base my every decision around a woman who made it a point to deceive me my entire life. I enjoy having Amelia around. It’s nice to have someone else’s perspective on all this.”

  “What do you two talk about?”

  “She tells me about her life in New Hutton. What her life was like as a child. She tells me about what happened before I was born. Before Bruce died.”

  I can see Carmen feels sorry for me. No one should hear such details this late in life. Imagine a whole other world for themselves if they hadn’t been kidnapped.

  “I understand why you want to connect with Amelia, but she is clearly siding with the prosecution. You’ll have time to get to know her. After the trial.”

  It’s not a statement. It’s an order.

  “And how long could that take? Even if Mom does pull through, we could be fighting this battle for years. I’m just supposed to ignore Amelia that entire time?”

  “It would be best for Eileen if you weren’t in contact.”

  “What about me? Eileen made her choices. I didn’t ask for any of this, and I shouldn’t be responsible for helping her avoid punishment. Eileen didn’t even care to tell me about her cancer, but I’m in the wrong for venting to Amelia about it?”

  “Did you tell Amelia about the cancer?” Her tone is serious again.

  “Yes.”

  Carmen exhales and presses two fingers against her temple. “That’s a perfect example of something the prosecution could use against us. They’ll make it look like Eileen is continuing to lie. Like she’s dishonest.”

  “Maybe the prosecution doesn’t have to make it look that way,” I say. “Maybe that’s just the way Mom is.”

  “But she’s still your mom. She loves you. Gave you everything she had, even if that wasn’t much.”

  I feel tears forming, but I don’t want to cry in front of Carmen. In over a decade of friendship, I don’t think we’ve had as many arguments as we have in the past week. I feel a sudden urge to be near Ava. She’s the only one left innocent in all this, and I’m determined to find the truth about my life before it impacts hers. I lift her from her playpen, putting her in my lap. She sinks into me, still playing with a fabric doll in her hand.

  “Anything else we need to discuss?” I ask.

  “Did anything I say sink in?”

  “What about what I’ve said? I appreciate everything you’re doing for Mom. I do. But I really miss having you as my best friend.”

  Carmen winces. “I’m sorry for everything you’re going through. I know it’s hell. I’m trying to ignore the emotional aspects of this mess and stay practical. It’s the only way I can help you. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  I sling the diaper bag over my shoulder and carry Ava toward the door.

  I’m not sure what I want anymore.

  24 Marion

  Now

  It’s harder to stay mad at Des. Even though she also chose to hide Mom’s cancer diagnosis, I can’t forget all that she has done for us over the years. Who knows? If it weren’t for her, we might have never stayed in North Bay. We might have continued the nomadic routine we had before settling here, during that mysterious portion of my early life. Des rented Mom the apartment I called home. She gave Mom a job in the restaurant, then invited her in as business partner years later. I know Mom couldn’t have had much money; Des was acting on good faith. And she continued that charity when she allowed me to take over only a few years ago.

  I stop by the restaurant. I wait until after eight o’clock, hoping there won’t be many customers. There’s a few media vans parked across the street, but they look as though they’re packing up for the day. I don’t give them a second glance as I cross the street to The Shack.

  The front door is unlocked. Des jerks her head but relaxes when she sees me. She beams when she sees Ava.

  “Finally acting as though you have a job?” she asks.

  “Consider the past few days personal leave,” I say, taking the diaper bag off my shoulder and resting it on a nearby chair. “Besides, I don’t remember being consulted about reopening the place.”

  “Consider it an executive decision.” She pats her hands with a washrag, then leans against the counter. “Can’t say you missed much. Opening day was a disaster, so I’m closing up early. We maybe had ten customers all day, and half of them I suspect were some form of media.”

  “That’s disappointing.”

  “I dipped into a big portion of our savings to replace what the police ruined. Business will have to pick up, otherwise we’ll stay in the hole. And the other local businesses hanging us out to dry doesn’t help.” Des whips her head at me. “You talked to Holly Dale yet?”

  “Not yet.” I exhale, rubbing my forehead. “I will.”

  “I really thought people would have Eileen’s back more. The people around here should know she’s a good person, regardless of what lies the press cooks up.”

  Des is the only person convinced they are still lies. Everyone else, even Carmen, sees the mountains of evidence against Mom. They see how the timeline of Sarah Paxton fits perfectly with Mom’s own mysterious past. I still don’t know who tipped off the police in the first place, but it must have been someone convinced of Mom’s guilt. I’m starting to wonder why Des continues to look the other way. Maybe she knows more about Mom’s past than she’s willing to admit.

  “The customers, did they say anything about Mom? Or the arrest?”

  “Not a word. That’s a nod to their support. It shows some people still believe Eileen is a good person. It’s amazing how easily some people forget.”

  I know that last comment was aimed to hurt me.

  “Why didn’t she tell me about the cancer, Des? I understand if she thought I couldn’t handle the other stuff. She thought I was too young. She was trying to protect me. Whatever. But why wouldn’t she tell me about the cancer?”

  I watch as Des’ shoulders tense then relax.

  “Everything you just said remains true, Marion. She was going to tell you, but she was looking out for you. She didn’t want everything to be about her.”

  “Everything is about her, isn’t it? Ever since the party—the one she wanted so badly not to ruin—all we can talk about is Mom. Her lies. Her health. Her past.”

  Des turns, her face thick and red. “Be careful. You’re sounding ungrateful.�
�

  “Ungrateful?”

  “Yes, ungrateful. I understand you are confused and you want the truth. No matter what she might have done before you came along, that woman gave you a good life. I was there for it.” She raises a shaky arm above her head, trying to stifle her anger. “I’m trying to support you just as much as I’m trying to remain loyal to her.”

  Des sits in a chair, her body practically collapsing. She’s suffering in all this, too. My own grief has been so close, it makes me forget. If what the police are saying is true, I’m not the only person Mom has betrayed. And I’m not the only person having to sort out my allegiance to her.

  “I came in to see if you need help with anything.” I sit in front of her, holding out my hand to touch hers.

  “What makes you think I need help?”

  “You just reopened the place. Do you need help closing up? Setting up for tomorrow? I’ve been out for a few days, but I still know how this works.”

  Behind me, the door opens. I expect a straggler, but instead, see Evan.

  “Marion,” he says, as surprised as I am.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  I instinctively pull Ava closer. This is the first time they’ve been in a room together. He’s never met her before. Never asked.

  “I invited him,” Des says, standing.

  “I’ve been helping Des here and there,” he says. “You know, with the reopening.”

  “Why?” I ask him, then turn to Des. “I thought you had Michael to help?”

  “Another set of hands doesn’t hurt. Don’t worry about it. You’ve been taking personal days, remember?”

  Des begins gathering the empty mugs. “Excuse me.” As she walks past, she nudges my shoulder. I take the hint, following her into the kitchen. Evan walks into the dining hall, staring at the television, which is muted, pretending not to listen to our conversation.

  I lower my voice another octave. “What’s he doing here? Don’t you think I’m dealing with enough?”

  “He might be your ex-boyfriend, but he’s still my friend,” she whispers, walking back toward the dining area.

  I hear Evan’s unmistakable chuckle behind me, and I feel my skin burn hot. The dynamic between Evan and Des always takes me back to my adolescence. It’s like they are ganging up against me, even though there is no way Des could have predicted I’d be stopping by the restaurant tonight. It’s just a coincidence.

  As for why Evan has really returned to North Bay, I don’t know. It goes against everything he told me at the time of our breakup. A degree from Sanderson would set him up for success anywhere. Why come back here? And why now?

  “I’m happy to run into you,” Evan says, stepping forward. “I’ve actually been wanting to talk.”

  “I’m sure you need to help Des—”

  “Not much left to do,” she volunteers.

  “It’s almost time for Ava to go to bed. I hadn’t planned on staying long.”

  “Then don’t,” Des says. “Let her play out her energy. She’ll sleep like a rock by the time you take her home.”

  “We could take a walk on the beach,” Evan says, placing a hand on the back of his neck. He’s smirking. He must enjoy the serendipitous way this evening has worked in his favor.

  I turn to look at Des, but she is already turned away from me. She’s holding a remote in her hand, turning up the volume on the television. Maybe I can finally figure out what it is Evan wants from me.

  “A very short walk,” I say, following him out the door.

  25 Marion

  Now

  This is my favorite time of night for viewing the seaside. Tonight, the sun is resting just above the water, casting orange beams through the steel-blue skies. Within twenty minutes, ten maybe, the entire sky will be gray, and another ten minutes after that, stars will blink in the distance. The heat of the day is gone, and a strong breeze cuts through the air between us.

  Evan walks a safe distance away from me. Too close, it could be misinterpreted. Too far, we wouldn’t be able to hear each other over the wind and waves. We leave our sandals by the ramp, walking closer to the water’s edge. I always like to walk with my feet in the water, dying waves splashing at my shins. Evan prefers to stay in the sand at that precise point where the water recedes again.

  We’ve walked several minutes, and still not said anything.

  “What did you want to talk with me about?” I ask.

  “I want to know if you’re okay, you know, with everything.”

  “I’m fine,” I say, brushing a strand of hair off my neck. “You must have had some reason for wanting to get in touch before my life went to hell.”

  “You’re always so blunt.”

  “And you always take too long to say what’s on your mind.”

  “You know I’m moving back.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “I guess I’m wondering how you feel about that, but I feel ridiculous bringing it up considering what’s going on with Eileen.”

  “I hope you aren’t moving back here because of me,” I say, knowing that’s a little too harsh. Evan is being open with me, and it’s not technically his fault the timing sucks.

  “I’m moving back here because I want to be here,” he says. “North Bay is my home.”

  That’s not what he said when we broke up. He talked about wanting to get as far away from North Bay as he could. He wanted to take me with him. Three years. He has been gone three years. And with everything that has happened during that time, we’re still not sure where we stand with each other.

  “We’re not the same people we were before you left for Sanderson.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  I stop walking, my feet sinking into the mucky sand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ve just come a lot farther than I have, I guess.”

  “Come on, you have your degree now. I’m sure you’ve already got a job lined up.”

  “I’m opening up my own practice, actually.”

  “Does Carmen know that?” I ask. She’s one of the few defense attorneys in the area.

  “She’s always complaining about her workload. I don’t think she’ll mind sharing the pot. She’s even offered to help me get started.”

  The thought of not being in a relationship with Evan is a bearable one, as is the idea of him living halfway across the country without me. But swallowing the fact that he’ll live mere minutes away from me, yet still not be in my life, irks me. I don’t like the idea of bumping into him at the grocery store or at a restaurant, the likelihood of Des scheming to have us around each other, knowing Carmen is helping him navigate his new career. It’s selfish, but life is easier having him away. At least then I don’t have to confront my feelings.

  Of course, as much as I like pretending North Bay is my town, it’s his too. He has as many connections to this place as I do. And his sister, Cassie, still lives here. He’s the doting uncle to her kids. I only wish it hadn’t taken him so long to figure out where he belongs.

  “Was it worth it?” I ask. “Going to Sanderson?”

  “Going to Sanderson, yes. But I wish other things could have been different.”

  Is he referring to me? At times, I think the same thing. But I’m imagining a different Evan and a different Marion. A life before Ava existed. There’s too much change now.

  “Have you been happy since I left? Before everything that happened with Eileen, I mean.”

  “Yes.”

  It’s true. A series of moments flash before my mind, almost all of them including Ava. She’s been the prize in all this. The rainbow after the storm that was losing Evan.

  “That’s all I wanted to hear.” He pauses. “She’s beautiful, by the way. Des has shown me pictures but seeing her in person… it’s unbelievable. She looks just like you.”

  I smile, thinking of Ava. Thinking of Evan. These thoughts are comforting, but I need to stay focused.

  “It would be easier if you weren’t droppi
ng by all the time. I know you’re just trying to help Des, but you know how she is. She’s meddling. Mom’s case is my biggest priority right now, after Ava, of course.”

  “I understand. Where do things stand with Eileen?”

  Mom and Evan always got along. I can hear her now, celebrating the idea we’re on this beach together. Of course, I’m thinking of the person I remember before I knew Sarah Paxton existed.

  “Doesn’t Des give you updates?”

  “She does. But I’d rather hear it from you.”

  “Carmen says the police are looking into Mom’s past. They’re trying to find witnesses, anything that connects her to the Baby Caroline shitshow.”

  “It’s good Carmen is on the case.”

  “Yeah, she’s a good friend. She’s pissed at me right now, though.”

  “How come?”

  “How much have you followed the case?”

  “Enough. It was a mystery to me until a few days ago. Never knew Baby Caroline was a thing.”

  “Yeah, me either. Anyway, Caroline’s—my—parents were the Parkers. And Amelia Parker showed up at my house yesterday. She wanted to talk with me, so I did.”

  “What did she have to say?”

  “She just wants to get to know me. I mean, think about what this woman has been through. Her daughter was taken. Her husband was murdered. And the police think Mom is to blame for all of that.”

  “That’s just one side of the story.”

  “And Amelia has another side. I want to hear it. That’s why I invited her over tomorrow.”

  “Does Carmen know that?”

  “No, but only because I don’t feel like listening to another one of her rants. I enjoy spending time with Amelia. She’s being honest with me, which is more than I can say about other people right now.”

  “You should think twice before letting Amelia into your life.”

  “She’s my mother.”

  This is the first time I’ve spoken those words. I pause, letting them percolate through my brain. On the one hand, it’s true. On the other, I’m turning my back on the only mother I’ve known. I still can’t decide whether she deserves that rejection or not.