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My eyes fly wildly around my room. It’s dark, but my blackout shades are drawn, so it could be the middle of the day and I wouldn’t know. The clock by my bedside says it’s 5:12 a.m.
I sigh and turn my pillow over in hopes that I can go back to sleep. But my quest fails as I’ve already started to replay the scenes from last night.
* * *
When Dean came over, my mother had been out at her salsa lessons. So, it had just been the three of us for dinner. Anthony seems to have taken to Dean quickly. He talked to him about his drawings and the space station he was building out of old cardboard boxes in his room.
My mother had come home just as I was going up to put Anthony to bed, and I had left her and Dean downstairs in the living room.
When I came down they were in the middle of a conversation that stopped as soon as I walked into the room.
They both looked at me guiltily and then looked at each other.
“What’s going on?” I asked slowly. I walked farther into the room and stood in front of them with legs akimbo and arms crossed while looking down at them.
My mother couldn’t meet my eyes, but Dean grasped my hand and started talking.
“Red, I was just talking to your mom about our conversation a few weeks ago. About your dad, about my theory of his disappearance.”
I looked at him in shock. I couldn’t believe he would broach this subject with my mother without talking to me first.
“What gave you the right to do that?” I hissed.
“Loving you gives me the right,” he hissed back, looking suddenly just as angry as I felt. He got up to stand in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. His touch was gentle and completely at odds with his tone.
“I’ve slept next to you. I know thoughts of your dad’s disappearance chase you, even when you’re sleeping. Let’s put it to rest. Let’s try to clear his name. I know he didn’t have anything to do with the Enron collapse. It makes no sense that he did. Let me help you sleep well again.”
His tone has turned as gentle and imploring as his touch and I felt tears prick my
eyes. I look down at my mother and see she’s staring at the ground with her shoulders shaking.
I immediately stepped out of Dean's hold and crouched in front of her.
“Mom? Are you okay? I’m sorry if all of this has upset you.”
She looked up at me and her face was streaked with tears. I haven’t seen her cry since the day my father left. I was startled by how old she looked right now. It was as if the years of holding in her anger, pain, and worry had suddenly caught up with her.
“Oh, Milly. I'm sorry. I have been so unfair to you girls. I did what I thought was best, but I really didn’t know what to do. And I think I’ve made a huge mistake. I'm not sure that it’s not too late to fix it.”
She said this in a voice that is uncharacteristically unsteady, and she couldn’t meet my eyes. My internal alarm went from mild to raging.
“What do you mean, please, explain what you’re talking about?” I tried to sound calm, but I could hear the pique in my voice.
I sat next to her on the couch with Dean next to me, his hand resting on my back. I grabbed both of my mother’s hands and shook them gently. She wasn’t looking at me and appeared to be dazed.
“Mom. Please. Talk to me. I’m listening.”
She looked at me, and with a deep breath squared her shoulders and drew her hands from my grasp.
“I think, Milly dear, it’s time for me to show you instead. Wait here.” She stood up and walked out of the room without another word.
Dean and I stared after her and then looked at each other.
“I—”
“How—”
We both started to talk at the same time.
