Jolie continues telling me that I should call the police and give them a statement and talk to Dr. Hart. I drift away from what she’s saying. A soda can floating in the pond has my undivided attention. My thoughts become an unfocused mass of confusion.
29. EDEN
As a child, I would fantasize that Ms. Peterson or any stable, loving adult would rescue Embry and me. Give us a place to call home, people to depend on, and hope for a future. Sitting in the living room of her home, with the vaulted ceilings, expensive looking decorations, and pictures scattered about depicting a happy life, I’m… resentful. I’m still not sold on her real identity, but whoever she is, she didn’t just neglect to help, she purposely kept us in an abusive and dangerous situation. I should feel some sort of sadness that she’s gone, shouldn’t I?
Matt leaves the kids with B and I as he searches the house for anything that could help his case or give him some clue of what happened to their mother. “You’re getting that faraway look.” He bats my hand away from the rubber band that I’ve pulled tight with my fist that is cutting into my arm. “Are you ok, Ed?
“Ha.” I roll my eyes at him. “I’ve learned to live with a very flexible definition of okay.” Waverly wiggles in her sleep and Blaine tucks a blanket around her. The minute I saw her she reminded me of myself. Transference much? “Did you get ahold of Caleb?” I watch Blaine shift Weston slightly and rub his back absently.
“He texted me back. They’re fine and he said they’ll keep themselves entertained.” I smile to myself. Caleb’s probably driving Hutton crazy. He talked nonstop on the flight to Pennsylvania, and I could have sworn I noticed Hutton show an emotion. It was irritation, but still. A pang of worry dampens my mood further when I think about Keir laying in the hospital. I miss him. More than I should for someone who I’ve only known for a couple of months. Our connection was immediate and intense. Now I don’t know if he’ll ever wake up and if he does what damage there might be.
We carry the kids to their rooms, and I can’t help but think of Embry when I lay Weston in his crib. I don’t have memories of him as a baby, Embry was four years younger than me. My first memories of him, he was crawling around laughing a belly laugh. He had been happy, before things progressively got worse with mom. I remember reading library books to him and him playing with my hair. Blaine walks up behind me and kisses the top of my head. “It’s been a long, eventful day. There is a spare room on the main floor, you should go lay down.”
“There’s not a chance in hell that I’m going to sleep. My mind is all over the place.” I turn and wrap my arms around him. “The sitter never saw a car pull up or anyone come to the house, why does Matt think she was murdered? Her brother killed himself and had said the ‘Time is Now’, that was in Joan Lassiter’s book.” I sigh and sag in his arms. “She could be copying what he’d done.” Even though Matt’s trying to keep it quiet and not wake the kids up, I still hear doors opening and a couple of times furniture bumping the wall.
“How can I best support you right now?” Blaine whispers with his cheek resting on my head. My heart swells at his sweetness. He spends so much time being a sarcastic jackass to most people, that I forget his capacity to be thoughtful, loyal, and tender. It’s those qualities that made him my best friend and eventually made me fall in love with him.
“I need to call Dr. Vargas and see if she’s been by the hospital. Do you think she’ll tell me how he’s doing?” Even though the local police have an agent at the hospital stationed outside his room for protection while our attacks are investigated, I want to know he’s not alone and that while we’re out of town she’s checking in. “What if…” I shake my head and clear my throat. “What if he never wakes up?”
Blaine’s arms tighten around me. “Let’s go see what Matt’s up to.” I can always count on B to steer the conversation away from emotional landmines. Blaine squeezes me again and then looks down at me with his brows lowered. “I’m worried about where your mind is at right now. Seeing pictures of Embry and then… all of this.”
“I’m tough,” I whisper to him. “I’ll get through it. I’ve had to take care of myself most of my life.”
“I know you are, and you have taken care of yourself. You have help now. I’m here and so is Matt. We can take care of each other.” My heart lodges itself in my throat. Blaine crossed over into family territory for me a long time ago. I let my eyes flutter shut and lean into him for a few more moments. All that time growing up when I felt alone, especially after Embry was gone, I never imagined finding people that cared back like Blaine.
“Thank you, B. I love you,” I whisper it with a choked voice.
“I love you,” he says it back emphatically and follows it up with a knee weakening kiss. Weston fusses in his crib and Blaine is quick to check on him. I stand by and watch him. He whispers in a hushed voice to him and rubs his back. He’ll make an amazing father someday. I wonder if my inability to have kids will drive us apart. As soon as the self-doubt starts to creep in about whether I’m good enough for him, I try to squash it. Blaine knows about the accident I had, and the result of it.
“What? You’re getting wound up inside your head again, aren’t you?” He pulls me from the room after laying the baby back down. “Ed? Come on. Stop it.” He knows me a little too well sometimes.
We find Matt crouched over a pile of papers and looking frustrated as he separates them. “Anything?” I almost don’t want to ask. Every new revelation today has sent my adrenaline through the roof. “Do you want us to start packing up some of the kids’ things?” I feel the need to fill the silence with rambling.
Matt looks up and he looks tired and miserable. “I found some paperwork from Weston’s last doctor appointment, he’s a little over six months old.” He sits back onto the floor and rubs at his eyes. “Waverly is three.” Blaine walks over to the diaper bag and takes it into the kitchen.
Taking a seat in front of Matt, I look at the papers. It looks like mail, doctor appointment summaries, and a school newsletter. “I couldn’t reach their grandparents. They could be avoiding my calls, our visit wasn’t the best, but I let them know it was an urgent family matter.” He sighs and then calls out to Matt, “Pack any formula you can find in there.” The thought of dropping the kids off with social services makes my stomach flip violently.
“If you can’t get ahold of Ms. Peterson’s family… or who you think might be family, what happens to them?” Matt stacks the piles and slips the papers into a box. He heard me, but I don’t think he knows how to answer.
“Matt?” I grab at his hand. “Will they separate them?” I feel the tears forming and the thought of them losing one another after their mom died is almost making me physically ill.
Blaine walks past with purpose, he’s got a diaper bag stuffed full, and is working on stacking toys into a large canvas bag. “Ed, they have family. It’s going to work out,” he says softly. If I could manifest a happy life going forward for them I would, but I don’t trust the system. My past is full of examples of the ways that it failed me. There is no proof that Peterson is Bradford not until the Medical Examiner can confirm it. In the meantime, they’ll be wards of the state of Pennsylvania.
“If I have to go back to their home to talk to them I will.” He sighs again. “I was really hoping I’d find something to connect her with Camp Carroll or the Lassiters, but there isn’t anything other than her last words and that tattoo on her wrist.”
My mind is firing off in chaos. The more I search it for anything meaningful about my contacts with Ms. Peterson, the more anxious and frustrated I get. “I’m sorry I can’t help more.” Defeated, I wrap my arms around my knees and pull at the rubber band on my wrist. “None of it makes sense.”
Thank goodness Matt has nephews and is no stranger to car seats, because Blaine and I are useless in figuring out how to get them from Peterson’s car and into the rental SUV. He gives the last one a final tug to make sure it’s secure enough. Blaine stands by with Weston in his carrier that fits into the car seat. Waverly is hugging his leg.
I lean towards Matt. “They haven’t cried for their mom and Waverly hasn’t asked for her… is that… I mean that’s not normal, right?” I feel like a terrible person for noticing that, but most three-year-olds would exhibit separation anxiety. A six-month-old might be okay, as long as someone is caring for them.
“You’re the psychology grad student, is that weird?” Matt gives them a worried look. “I was relieved that they seemed to be handling her absence okay.” I look at Waverly, whose tiny hand is wrapped halfway around Blaine’s leg and the thumb from her other hand firmly in her mouth. She looks at us with big blue eyes. Her crooked pigtails remind me of a time that feels so long ago. Another blonde girl in pigtails that didn’t understand how life was going to change. I want to pick her up and hug her tight. Tell her that she needs to be strong.
Weston sleeps the whole drive back to the city, while his sister talks with her hands… sweet babbles in a squeaky little voice. Blaine gives her his undivided attention. With an animated face he talks back to her. Matt and I exchange an amused look. Blaine is a softer and sweeter person with kids. Developmental Child Psychology is the lane he should stay in.
When Matt pulls up to the county building to meet with the case worker who will be taking the kids to transport them to temporary placement, I can’t help the onslaught of tears. I feel Blaine place a hand on my shoulder. I can’t look at him or I’m going to lose it completely.
Waverly drifted off to sleep the last few minutes of the ride and when Blaine starts to unbuckle her car seat, she wakes with a jolt and starts to cry. Her face reddens and then she wails, “Mommma… want momma.” I’m done. My sobbing joins hers. Both the guys aren’t doing much better. Blaine wipes his eyes and tries to calm Waverly. Matt clears his throat and steps to the back of the SUV out of sight.
