“That’s probably true.”
We stare at each other for a moment until the heat rises in my cheeks.
“You know what I see?” Teo says. “What I’m going to show in my film?”
“What?”
“Someone who never understood how strong she was. Think of all the amazing things you’ve done this year. You’re a symbol to so many people of what survival can look like. How you can turn tragedy into something positive not just for yourself but for others, too.” He leans in as he talks, closing the space between us. “And that’s why I wanted you in my film. You’re the hero, Cecily, whether it feels like it or not.”
“I wish I could see myself that way.”
“What’s holding you back?”
“The truth.”
“What’s the truth?”
I sit up, and now our faces are so close I can smell the coffee Teo’s been drinking.
“I had a crush on you,” I say.
“Had? What happened to it?”
“You know what happened.”
He frowns. “I killed it.”
“You did.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, because my crush is still alive and well.”
He comes closer, and I can feel the kiss before it starts. A real kiss this time, not some hurried thing on a street corner. Soft lips, his tongue in my mouth, his hands on my hips pulling me toward him.
I want this, I want this, I want him. But then I stop.
“We can’t.”
He rests his forehead on mine. “Are you sure?”
“You’re the one who put the brakes on. Nothing’s changed, has it?”
“No.” He kisses my forehead and stands. “I should probably go.”
“I have to meet Joshua soon.”
“Right. Let me know how that goes?”
I stand, and we walk to the front door. “I will.”
He puts on his coat, then strokes the side of my face. “I wish things were different.”
“We all do.”
I open the front door and watch him walk to his car. He gives me a wave as he drives past the house, and I can’t help but wish I’d made a different decision. But then again, do I need another man in my life who has doubts about whether we should be together? I deserve to be someone’s first choice.
I deserve to be someone’s sun.
Chapter 38
I Spy with My Little Eye
Kaitlyn
There was something about hiding above a garage that belonged to someone who’d never liked her that made Kaitlyn feel more like a fugitive than she had all year. She didn’t trust Sara not to blow the lid off this whole thing. The look of disgust she’d given her when she let them in hadn’t helped. Kaitlyn didn’t need those kinds of looks from others. She was disgusted enough with herself. And all it meant was that staying there felt dangerous. She might be discovered at any moment. A SWAT team on the stairs. A door kicked in. Then cuffs. Being booked and photographed. A cell with a bad mattress and a scary roommate.
Child abandonment. That’s what she’d done. She’d looked it up once. It was a class-4 felony in Illinois. She didn’t know what that meant, but she knew felonies were generally something to be avoided. They probably wouldn’t put her in jail, but given how she’d gone about it, they might want to make an example of her.
She’d also Googled “is faking your own death illegal?” The search auto-filled; someone before her, many people in fact, had asked the same question. Even though she’d done it in another anonymous Internet café, she’d gotten nervous. Was there some alarm that went off in Skynet if you Googled child abandonment and faking your own death? If there wasn’t, there should be.
Pseudocide. That’s what faking your own death was called. It wasn’t illegal, but according to an article she’d read, it generally required so many other frauds to pull it off that you were bound to make it illegal. Kaitlyn didn’t think she’d done any of those things. She hadn’t created a false identity. She’d gone back to who she was before she was married. She hadn’t involved anyone else, so it wasn’t a conspiracy. Or filed for insurance or run out on loan payments. Though maybe she had. Joshua had to pay the mortgage by himself now. And she owed support to her kids.
She had to face it. She was a criminal. If she was caught, bad things would happen. She had to stay uncaught. In a day or two, when all this was taken care of, she could leave again. Go back to Canada. Maybe Andrea would even take her back. If not, there were enough families in need of her services. It was a way to make up for abandoning her own children. Being a surrogate mother.
Eileen had felt abandoned. That’s what she wrote to her in the first in a long series of rambling e-mails. Her whole life, she felt as if she didn’t fit in. That missing biology was a main character in her life. One she couldn’t get past. That’s why she was so desperate to find her mother.
Kaitlyn was sympathetic at first. How could she not be? And it made her feel useful. Like she was helping Eileen get better. Providing her an outlet. A sympathetic ear. It helped Kaitlyn put some things in perspective, too. Her own life wasn’t that bad. She should try to appreciate it more. Maybe her family, motherhood, hadn’t worked out as she’d hoped. But that didn’t mean it was all bad. That it couldn’t improve. If telling someone her problems helped Eileen, then it could help her, too. She went to see a counselor. She got medication. The clouds lifted.
Then Eileen had written: You’re my mother, aren’t you?
No, Eileen, Kaitlyn had written back. I’m sorry, but I’m not.
But I feel so close to you, you know? I feel that tie I was missing, that bond. It’s you. I know it’s you. Please can we meet so we can verify?
Verify how?
A DNA test.
I’m not your mother.
But I have the record. My birth certificate from the hospital.
Eileen didn’t seem to have understood her. She could get like this sometimes, a dog with a bone. Denials wouldn’t dissuade her.
I’m not doing a DNA test, Eileen. Subject’s closed.
But no subject was ever closed with Eileen. It might recede for a while, but it was bound to come back. And since she wasn’t going to do a DNA test, it would become a loop. One they’d spin around over and over until Kaitlyn was sick.
Kaitlyn had tried to help her, but there wasn’t any way out.
A few weeks later, when Kaitlyn’s boss asked her some pointed questions about whether she was ever going to come back to work, she took the plunge and said no. A few weeks after that, her work e-mail account was shut down.
She didn’t tell Eileen.
Interview Transcript
TJ: There seem to be some inconsistencies in your story, Franny.
FM: Oh yeah? Such as?
TJ: Sherrie said that you often asked if you were adopted as a child, but your parents consistently denied it.
FM: I told you. I asked them not to tell her.
TJ: If you didn’t want your sister knowing you were adopted, it doesn’t make any sense that you’d bring up the possibility with your parents when she was around.
FM: I was a kid. I said stupid things. Maybe I was testing them, you know? Seeing if they’d respect my wishes.
TJ: Then there’s the stint in juvenile detention you failed to mention.
FM: I told you—I did some stupid shit, stealing and such. I went to juvie for a couple months. What does that prove?
TJ: Nothing in and of itself, though I do find it revealing that you didn’t tell me about it.
FM: I told you the big stuff. The relevant stuff.
TJ: And you spent time in a mental health facility.
FM: I suffer from depression sometimes. I’m not crazy. There’s lots of reasons people go to those places. They helped me get better. I take my medication and I’m mindful or whatever, and I don’t have those low moments anymore.
TJ: But it’s another thing you didn’t tell me.
FM: Why would I tell anyone that? You try telling people you spent time in a funny farm, and they’re all thinking it’s that Cuckoo’s Nest book, you know? Like I was talking to walls or wearing tinfoil on my head. It wasn’t like that. It was peaceful. Restful.
TJ: You told me you got a copy of your birth certificate and your birth mother called you Marigold. Is that right?