He looks away again, raising his hand to his chin. He used to do this back when we were together, whenever he had to think through something intensely. The longer I sit with him, the more I feel like I’m back in the past.
“The DNA test helps, but Bruce Parker’s murder is still her biggest hurdle. These letters provide more insight to what happened on that day. His death very well could have resulted from an act of self-defense. We have the truth, the problem is proving it.”
“What if we were able to track down Jamie? I think she might be the person who called me at the hospital in the first place. Maybe she would corroborate Mom’s story. Admit that Bruce attacked her.”
“It could help, sure. It’s still going to be Eileen’s word against everyone else’s. And the time gap is hard, too.”
I feel defeated, an intense welling in my chest that won’t ease. “Mom doesn’t deserve to spend the rest of her life in prison, not after reading this.”
Evan squeezes my shoulder, rocking me closer to him. “Look at it this way, she has a better chance now than she did a week ago. If we’re able to back up her account, it at least gives her a shot. Carmen’s a pro. She’ll do the best she can.”
“She was happy enough with the DNA test results. When she reads these letters, her mind will really be blown.”
“You’ve not told her yet?” He pulls both feet onto the couch, resting his arms across his knees. “I figured she would have been the first person you called.”
“She wasn’t.”
We are quiet now, letting the room fill with whatever unresolved emotions remain between us. Evan has always been there for me, until he wasn’t. The trauma of this situation has erased the last few years. Evan is the first to speak.
“When I moved back here, there were things I’d planned on telling you. But with Eileen’s arrest, I’ve been trying to hold off. I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you at your most vulnerable moment.”
“Like what?”
“I guess there was a part of me that was hoping we might be able to give our relationship another shot. Now that we’re both settled.”
He’s said it, the words that have been going through my mind for years. Even with all the time that has passed, I’m not sure how to respond.
“The first few months I was at Sanderson made me realize I’d made a mistake leaving you behind. I knew it was the best school for me, but the idea of living another two and half years without you was almost too much to bear,” he continues. “As time went on, neither of us had dated anyone else. I started to think maybe there was a chance, at the end of all this, that we’d get back together. Then bam. My sister said you were having a baby. There was a part of me that was happy for you, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt.”
“How were you hurt? You’re the one who chose Sanderson.”
“And I asked you to come with me. I understood why you didn’t. I knew it was a huge sacrifice, and when you said no, I accepted it. It even made me love you more, really. You’ve always been so determined to do things your own way, but then you just completely moved on.”
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do after a breakup?”
“Yes, it is. But it still hurt. And you didn’t move on with some other guy. You had a child, Marion. It’s like you just carried on life without me.”
“And you’d rather I’d waited?”
“No, of course not. But I’m trying to be honest right now about what I have been feeling since I moved away.”
“You said you weren’t ready to settle down here.”
“And I wasn’t, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t want all of those things with you eventually. It’s like you just went on without me. You’re the one who left me behind.”
My cheeks are warm, and I’m grinding my teeth together. Why does he have to do this now? Why does he have to do this ever? We both made our decisions years ago and rehashing them accomplishes nothing.
“I was ready for Ava.”
“I’m glad.” The smile on his face is full of sincerity, even pride. It’s clear Evan wants me to be happy. He lifts his head, and we lock eyes. “All I’m saying, is I hope one day you’ll be ready to give me another chance, too.”
The reality is, I’ve never fully given up on the idea that one day we might be together. Even when it didn’t make sense, geographically or otherwise. When I decided to have Ava, I thought maybe that was what I was choosing—her over him. And yet I don’t feel that way now. In my heart, there’s room for both of them. That is why I called him tonight, in my darkest moment.
All the reasons I fell in love with him come rushing back. His loyalty. His patience. Maybe it’s the wine, or the time of night, or the emotional exhaustion. Whatever it is, I can’t stop myself from leaning in for a kiss.
42 Marion
Now
I wake up on the sofa. Evan is sleeping on the opposite end, his feet halfway off the couch. He is still wearing that shirt, his glasses askew over the bridge of his nose. Nothing happened beyond the kiss. I don’t think either of us wanted to look back and think we made a decision based on weakness. And yet, he was vulnerable in telling me how he felt. That’s not easy for Evan to do.
It feels nice waking up beside him again. It’s a feeling I could get used to.
My phone rings, which causes Evan to stir. I pat around the sofa, trying to find the source of the ringing.
“Who is it?” Evan asks.
Finally, I find it, stuffed between two cushions.
“It’s the hospital.”
I quickly answer, stumbling to the kitchen. I listen, nodding my head as the person on the other end speaks. Then I place the phone on the counter.
“Everything okay?”
“Mom is awake again,” I say, trying to process what the rest of the day might look like. “The nurse says she has been up for hours. She wants me to visit.”
It’s time.
From the moment I saw Mom in handcuffs, I’ve been waiting for this. Days that felt like a prison sentence, with the answers she couldn’t provide the only way to freedom. Now that the time has come, I’m nervous, my stomach tangled in knots.
Carmen is talking to her first. I gave her a call before leaving the condo, giving her a head start. She opens the door, and nods for me to come in.
Mom is lying in the bed. She looks as weak as the last time I saw her, but there aren’t as many tubes and bandages, it seems. She doesn’t appear frightened, like she did that day at the jailhouse. When she sees me, her eyes fill with tears. It’s like she’s just been given the most wonderful gift in the world.
All the stoicism and calm falls away, and I rush to her side. I lean over the bed, hugging her. At the end of the day, she’s my mother. The woman who loved me, and that’s what matters most. I’m thankful I have the opportunity to see her again, and I don’t think I ever fully understood how devastated I would be if I’d lost that chance.
“Where’s Ava?” she asks.
Again, a wave of guilt. For a few moments, I’d forgotten about her, so lost in this emotional reunion. And I’d forgotten about Carmen standing in the corner of the room. It’s like the only two people in the entire world are my mother and me.
“Des is with her in the waiting room,” I say.
“When can you bring her to see me?”
“Soon,” I say, not quite capable of deciding whether or not this is the right environment for a one-year-old. “I need to know you’re okay first.”
“I’m awake. That’s a start.”
Carmen steps closer. “I’m heading outside. Take all the time you need.”
She leaves, and the door closes. Not only is she giving us time alone, she is reading the letters I gave her. I’m hoping, praying, there will be enough in there to help Mom’s case.
Now it really is just the two of us. I sit beside her, too afraid to speak, waiting for my mother to make sense of everything that has happened these past two weeks.
“I’m sorry for how I acted when you came to visit me at the county jail,” she begins. “You have to understand how long I’ve kept all of this hidden. I thought maybe it would never come to light, and when it did, I wasn’t ready to face you. It was selfish of me to leave you in the dark.”
“I’ve been in the dark longer than this past week.” The deceptions and half-truths didn’t originate from her arrest; I’ve been hassling her for answers my entire life. I want to hear Mom’s version of events before bringing up the letters. After all the deception, I suppose it’s a test of sorts. “Tell me everything.”
“Let’s start at the beginning.”
43 Marion
Now
She begins.
“I was so young.”
For a moment, Mom appears younger, like she is reverting to her prime, leaving behind the frail woman in her bed fighting to heal. Memories are an elixir in their own way, relieving the hardness of time, transporting a person back to a place, to see that familiar face, inhale that familiar smell.
“My childhood wasn’t the best, I’ve told you that much. When your father and I learned we were pregnant—Cliff was his name—we weren’t sure how we would manage.”
“My father.”
I’d read about him in the letters but hearing her say his name makes him feel solid. Almost tangible, even though I’ve forever lost the opportunity to reach out and touch him. He was this person who really existed, who really wanted me.
“He had a good heart and a wicked sense of humor.” She smiles. “He had his demons, too. We all did back then, it seemed. He would have been a good father, with a little more time. He died before you were born. It was his death that made me decide to put you up for adoption.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about him? I’ve asked you so many times.”
“I wanted to tell you. I’ve felt like I betrayed him the most in all this. You deserved to know all about him, how wonderful he was, but I couldn’t run the risk of anything linking back to what I’d done. So I had to keep it all a secret.”
There are more questions I want to ask, but I wait, allowing her the chance to speak in her own time.
“I met Amelia first,” she says. “She worked at a counseling center I went to. All I saw was this nice woman, so put-together, so helpful. After a while, she told me about her own struggles. She couldn’t get pregnant. Had tried a few times. She wanted a child more than anything, and I was searching for a family that would give you all the love and support I couldn’t. It seemed like it was meant to be. Amelia wanted to handle the adoption privately. I agreed. She was a counselor, after all. She’d helped countless young girls do this sort of thing over the years, or so I thought.”
“And then you had second thoughts?”
“I constantly had second thoughts. If I had made the decision with my heart, I’d never have let you go. You were always wanted. It was just the timing, and so soon after Cliff’s death, I knew I wasn’t ready. Not like Amelia was. And yet, there was this nagging feeling that I couldn’t let you go. Moving away without saying goodbye felt wrong. I went to the Parkers’ home in the hopes of seeing you one last time.”
She continues her story, echoing her letters. She talks about her friend Jamie and about the secret she’d shared with her all those years ago. And she tells me about the confrontation with Bruce, about the terror she felt in those moments.
Finally, I’ve heard the true story in her own words. It doesn’t make it any less shocking. I try to imagine my mother when she was younger, in the few pictures I’ve seen. I try to see her scrambling through the Parkers’ house, strapping a crying baby into the car and driving away—where to, still a mystery.
“What did you do after you left with me?”
“I reached out to Jamie and told her everything. She helped me get out of New Hutton. I still didn’t know what to do. To be honest, the fact I was going to be your mother didn’t sink in until weeks later. All I wanted was to protect you. I guess it’s one and the same when you think about it, really.”
“Why didn’t you tell the police about Bruce? About what he’d done to your friend?”
“He was dead! I thought I might have a shot at self-defense, but I was afraid coming forward would risk losing you. The story was in the media overnight. People talking about this missing baby and this murdered father, this grieving widow who was determined to find her child. Everyone was searching for the deranged madwoman Sarah Paxton. No one mentioned an adoption. Amelia knew what happened, but it seemed we were the only two. It was her word against mine, and I wasn’t convinced anyone would believe me.”
“That’s why we stayed hidden?”
“We stayed in hotels the first year, mostly. It was a stressful time. Not only was I juggling a newborn, but I was also afraid every night I’d get a knock on the door. That the police would find me, take you away. Lord knows the case was in the news enough. I’m sure the Parkers’ money helped with that. But people never asked any questions. They just saw a young mother and her child. If they thought we were running from anyone, they probably assumed it was some custody nonsense. No one ever suspected anything, and I didn’t stick around one place long enough to give them the chance.
“It took some time, but Jamie was able to provide us with everything we’d need to start over. A driver’s license, birth certificates, social security cards. Her family had connections for that sort of thing, and they didn’t much care about asking questions. You had just turned two when we came here. I didn’t plan on staying, of course. I’d been living on what little money Jamie could give me and the jobs I could get in between moves. I thought North Bay would be a nice place to stay for the summer. Of course, that’s when I met Des, and the rest is history.”
“You never told her the truth?”
“She never asked. I could tell she liked me, and she was smitten with you. A few weeks turned into a few months, then that turned into years. Before I realized it, this place was home, and I didn’t worry as much about the police finding us. There were a few close calls, but nothing ever came of it.”
“That’s why you never wanted to let me go anywhere. You never let me out of your sight.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want you to have those experiences. Every time you would come to me with that eager smile and I had to tell you no, it killed me inside, but I was doing what was best for us. Best for you. I knew Amelia would never stop looking.”
“Is that why you were so happy when I turned eighteen? You knew there was no chance I could be taken away?”
“That was a big part of it, yes. Before you were born, my only concern was giving you the best life possible. After my confrontation with the Parkers, I realized my priority was to keep you safe. I tried to provide what I could, of course. But nothing was more important than keeping you out of harm’s way.” She pauses, averts eye contact. “I hope you know I tried my best, and I’m sorry for everything else.”
Yes, I deserved the truth. Yes, I’m an adult in search of answers. But I’m also a mother. I understand the overwhelming need to keep your child safe, even if that goes against their best interests at times. It’s an irrational compulsion rooted in rationalism. Is there anything I wouldn’t do for Ava? Even if it meant she might be angry with me later?
“Your friend. Jamie. Do you still talk to her?”
“She was instrumental during those early years. We would have never made it a month without her help. Once we were settled in North Bay, we lost contact. It was safer for her that way.”
I look down.
“I think I might have spoken to her, actually.”
“Jamie? She reached out to you?” Mom sits up straighter in her bed. “She should know better. She doesn’t need to get involved with any of this. I never would have made it out of New Hutton without Jamie’s help. She doesn’t deserve punishment for that.”
“I can’t be certain. Earlier this week, when I was visiting you in the hospital, I received a phone
call. It was a woman, but she didn’t give me her name. She told me about a storage facility about an hour away from town.”
Mom leans back on the pillow and closes her eyes.
“She told me there were letters there. Letters for me.”
“Have you read them?”
“Yes.”
“So you already knew all of this?”
“I knew everything that was written in the letters, but I wanted to hear you tell it.” I look down again. “I’m guessing Jamie is the only person who would have known about them.”
“Yes. I told her I wrote everything down. I told her where they were in case… well, I suppose in case anything like this ever happened. The fear of punishment has never bothered me. What I feared most was losing you, then losing your respect. I can’t say I’ve acted very respectably, but I had hoped you would at least understand why I made the choices I made.”
“I understand. I do.” I squeeze her hand. It feels like we are on the cusp of full transparency. “There’s something else I need to ask you about. The cancer.”
Mom closes her eyes again and lets out a long sigh. “Who broke first? Carmen or Des?”
“The doctors, actually. It came out when they were telling me about your condition.”
I look around the room, at the bizarre setting for this emotional heart-to-heart. There very well could be a HIPAA violation in there somewhere, but the information is out now, so it doesn’t seem to matter whether I learned about it in the right way or not.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I had a routine screening that didn’t go in my favor, let’s say. That same week, you’d been going on and on about Ava’s party. I just didn’t want to ruin it for you. I thought, let’s have one more celebration before everything starts being about me. Obviously, I couldn’t have predicted any of this would happen.”
None of us could have. Even though I understand, the worry is now there, embedded deeply within me. She’s recovered from her attack, but her life is still at risk.
Not My Mother Page 21
