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Prologue
My name is Laura Long. I graduated with a master’s in criminal justice, and a day later, I left Chicago to make the trip to Manhattan to start a job in the security department at New York Medical Center. My mother Crystal came along, and while we were driving on the PA Turnpike, she unloaded the truth about my paternity for the first time.
A single parent, Crystal had put herself through nursing school so she could support me. The story she’d told me was that she’d picked up my father at a friend’s party and had a one-night stand. She’d wanted to raise me alone, not to share or have to compromise when it came to me. There was almost a mystique about our lifestyle, about my mother and me on a journey together. She’d turned the struggles we had overcome into successes.
From the time I was twelve, I’d babysat to make money for the clothes and other things I wanted. During the summers, I’d always had a full-time job or two. I was used to working. I’d worked hard at school to get a scholarship.
On that trip to New York, we stopped at a gas station, and she got out to buy candy while I pumped.
“Mom, please don’t bring a bunch of crap back. I feel sick from all the candy I’ve already eaten.”
“Pipe down. It’s for me.”
It was hotter than hell, and I stood at the back of the car, sweating, heat radiating from the asphalt while the gasoline pump was cold in my hand. I heard a female voice yelling, and I peeked between the pumps to see a young mother, obviously distraught, yelling at two small children in the back seat of a car. I took a deep breath and turned my back.
When the tank was almost full, I looked up to see Crystal walking toward the car with a tray of drinks and a large bag of junk food. I just shook my head. If I started eating junk, it would be too hard to stop, and I’d feel sick afterward.
“Why’d you do that, Mom?” I asked when she got closer. “In the first place, we’re on a budget, and that looks like you spent our meal money for today.”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” she said.
“I will worry. My middle name is worry.”
We got into the car, and I reached for a container of wipes to get the gasoline smell off my hands.
“Don’t get back onto the turnpike. I need to talk to you.”
“Oh, great. What now?”
“Just pull into a parking space, please.”
I was anxious to get to New York, and at the rate we were going, it was going to be midnight before we got there. But I did what she said and parked.
“What, mother? Make it snappy, please. I want to get back on the road.”
“I think we should stay at a hotel tonight so we can get into the city in daylight.”
Pressing my lips together, I knew it was hopeless to argue, and she might have a point. But I was worried about what a hotel would cost.
“I’ll pay for it, okay?” she replied. “I’ve saved for this trip.”
“Fine. A hotel it is.”
“But wait, Laura. I need to say something to you.”
“Go for it, Mom.”
“Look at me, please. This is serious.”
Taking a deep breath, I did as she asked and looked straight at her.
“I need to tell you the truth about your father.”
That stumped me. Had she lied? Or was there more to the story? “No, Mother. I don’t want to know now, okay? It’s not important.”
But of course, she ignored me. “It’s not true, what I said about not knowing who he was. It was a one-night stand, but I knew him well.”
I reached for the key and turned the engine off. My heart beat out a staccato rhythm. “So, what’s your point?”
