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“Mom.” She rolls her eyes. “Stella?” I offer instead.
She frowns.
“Look the truth is…we take care of ourselves. We raise ourselves. You’ve turned out okay so far—and that’s not thanks to me; it’s definitely not because of Mom. Just…listen to your gut. At the end of the day, we’re all we’ve got.”
“You have Ty,” she says.
“Yeah, I do,” I say. For now. “Which reminds me—I’m just about out of time. Let’s head inside.”
I take Emma upstairs and lie down next to her in bed until she falls asleep. Then, I pick up the phone and dial the number on the the card clipped to the front of that red folder.
“Hello?” the voice on the other end of the line says.
“Um, hi. Is this…Maureen Blake?”
“This is. Who am I speaking with?”
“It’s Amelia Walker. I signed the papers. Can you get him out now?”
six
Summer 1999
“Thank you,” Stella says when I get into the car. “You did the right thing.”
I buckle my seatbelt without giving her so much as a look, and she begins backing out of the driveway. It doesn’t feel like the right thing—none of this feels right. If it were right, wouldn’t I feel better right now?
But since there was no right thing, I did the only thing I could.
“I know it was hard for you,” she continues. “I know you’re very prideful, just like your moth—”
“I am not like her,” I snap.
“Still, I am so sorry—for this and for what happened to you. I love you like a daughter. None of this should be happening, but…this was the right thing to do, Mel. For everyone.”
“I’m not so sure he will see it that way,” I tell her. “And I did it for him. Not for everyone.”
“He’ll understand,” she assures me.
“I don’t want the money,” I say. I bite down on my lower lip and will the tears not to fall. I don’t want the money, and I need her to know that. I need him to know that, too. I only want one thing—and that one thing isn’t possible.
I want to go back in time—back to the parking lot behind the pub—and crawl inside that old beat-up pickup truck. I want to kick off my shoes, close my eyes, and stay there until the sun comes up. I want it so badly I can feel it—his body pressed against my back, arms draped across the front of me. His warm, steady breath on the back of my neck and the hot morning sun streaming through the windows and onto my bare legs.
Safe, loved.
And ignorant.
We pull into the parking lot at the county jail, and my stomach wretches. I swallow back vomit as I get out of the car, my mouth going dry as it threatens to come back up again. Maybe it’s just the six marshmallows I ate in the backyard with Emma, but again, I don’t think your body is supposed to react like this when you’re doing the right thing.
Just as we reach the staircase leading up to the front doors, Ty walks out.
Stella strides toward him and throws her arms around him, whispering into his ear words I can’t quite make out.
I’m pretty sure I hear the word ‘stupid’ and something like ‘what were you thinking,’ but he doesn’t react, keeping his eyes trained on me at the bottom of the staircase. He lets her hold him for a couple more seconds before he shrugs her off and descends the stairs, stopping in front of me.
“Hi,” I say weakly.
He reaches behind me, threads his hand into my hair against my scalp, and pulls me into his chest.
