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“Didn’t know what, Mom?” I’m too scared to ask and when I do, she looks down at me, the steam flowing around her.
With a wobbly smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, she shakes her head and says, “Nothing, baby.”
“Mom, what happened?” I ask and tears stream from my eyes just as they do from hers.
“He did it for the last time. I had to.”
“He hit you?” I say my guess in a whisper and my mother’s weak smile broadens with sympathy. “Yeah, baby, he hit me.”
“I’m sorry.” I barely get out the words, bracing myself against the cheap cabinet of the sink.
“When you and your sister were little,” my mother interjects, “you two were as thick as thieves and I remember praying you’d stay close like I wish me and my sisters were.”
I can’t even think of Cadence right now and what she’s about to walk in on. My heart breaks today for so many reasons; I don’t know how it still beats.
“You remember that time you ate all the candy from the canister? I found it empty and called you two in.”
“You knew it was me the whole time?” I ask her, knowing just how this story plays out.
My mother nods her head. “Cadence was so quick to take the fall for you. And that time she stained the back seat of your auntie’s Buick, you took the blame for that one.”
The past events play out before me. We were just two sisters getting into normal trouble.
“You two were always looking out for each other.”
“Mom, what’s this have to do with Dad?” I ask and she only shakes her head, finally opening the bottle of shampoo. “Nothing, baby girl. I just want you to know I love you. I love you both so much and you can’t stop loving each other. Even if you stop loving me.”
Using a wad of toilet paper, I stop the tears from flowing but stay in the bathroom, the shower curtain closed so I can’t see behind it.
It’s quiet a long time, other than bottles opening and silent tears being swept away.
“You’re throwing your career away doing this,” my mother warns and a piece of me is all too aware of that possibility.
“You better get good at lying then. And holding on to that story, Mom. Because I don’t want to lose my job, but I’ll be damned if I lose you.”
With a harsh swallow I repeat what I just came up with as if it just happened. “I came home and no one was there but someone caught my eye as they ran out to the backyard. And then I saw you running into the woods. I was going to take you to the hospital because you wouldn’t stop crying and tried to hurt yourself.” I add in that last detail. “And I almost took you in, but you begged me not to.”
Rising to my feet, my body aches and my bones crack. Carefully, I pull back the shower curtain and pour out more than enough conditioning treatment as my mother’s head hangs in shame, and I lather it. I make sure to get it all, refusing to let any residue stay behind.
“I didn’t do it, I didn’t bring you in, because of what happened last month,” I whisper and my mother’s composure cracks. “They’re going to know about it, Mom, and it’s motive so it’s best we bring it up and control the narrative.”
She’s silent as I work the conditioner through her hair and then comb it through. “It needs to sit,” I tell my mother and she nods. The water’s still hot and the steam smothers me.
“Ask for a lawyer, speak as little as possible. I have the story and I’ll make sure it’ll stick. You just have to be quiet as much as you can and stick with the story I gave you.”
It’s quiet for the rest of the time, the hot water splashing onto my arms and chest when I rinse out her hair. It soaks into my sleeve where the blood resided and I watch the pink droplets fall into the tub. I’ll throw away the clothes. All of them and buy new ones for my mother in the morning.
Over and over in my head, I rehearse our story and hope it’s our way out of this.
My mother’s only silent or crying, nothing more than that until she tries to confide in me, “I wish …”
My motions stop, the lather on my hands a stark pure white and smelling sweetly of lavender.
This time when I ignore her, when I don’t press for more, I know why I’m doing it. I’m not strong enough to handle any more than this tonight. “There won’t be a damn shred of evidence to tie you to this when you go in for questioning. Don’t give them any. Don’t give them a damn thing.”
