A Good Marriage(53)

Zach didn’t want strangers in the house—that was the bottom line. There were times when Amanda thought about trying to explain to him the difference between “friends” and “strangers.” But for him, there was no difference.

And now here was Maude at the top of their steps. Amanda couldn’t let her in. Zach’s schedule was too unpredictable. He could be home anytime. Yet how could she not invite Maude in without seeming impossibly rude? Amanda inhaled deeply before waving brightly from the bottom of the steps, hoping a solution would come to her before she reached the top.

“Hi there!” she called up.

“I should have texted first,” Maude began, her voice unsteady. “It’s obnoxious to loom on somebody’s stoop uninvited.”

“Don’t be silly. Besides, you’re sitting, not looming.”

Amanda sat down on the top step next to Maude. As they hugged briefly, Amanda noticed Case’s emergency house key poking out from underneath the planter. She felt a sharp pang of missing her son as she reached behind Maude to tuck it back under. At least at sleepaway camp, Case was safe from her dad.

Amanda turned her face toward the sun. Let’s stay out here and enjoy the glorious weather. Amanda would not say that in particular. (Glorious was not a good word unless you lived in the eighteenth century.) But she could say some version of it. Anything to keep them on that stoop.

“It’s strange that I’m here,” Maude said. “I know. I just really needed to talk to a friend. And I love Sarah, but she can be … flip sometimes.”

Amanda felt a flush of pride that Maude had chosen her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Maude was gripping several brightly colored envelopes in her hand. “I got more letters from Sophia. And they’re worse.” She grimaced and shook her head, then waved the envelopes in Amanda’s direction as if encouraging her to take them. “I thought sending her to that camp, being in a new country, a whole new setting, was the right thing to do under the circumstances.”

“Under what circumstances?” Amanda asked, finally reaching for the envelopes. Maude had made it sound before like she didn’t know what was wrong with Sophia, but it was obvious now that she did. “Maude, did something happen?”

“A boy.” Maude’s eyes filled with tears. “I knew Sophia was upset, but I honestly thought getting away would be best.”

“That makes total sense.”

“But then these letters.” Maude motioned to the envelopes. “I tried calling the camp a couple times this morning to check on her, but no one is answering in the office. Such a great camp until you call them, I guess.”

“What does Sebe say?”

“That I’m overreacting. That she’s not a child anymore, and I need to stop smothering her.” Maude sounded hurt and angry. “I know that Sebe loves Sophia. But he’s not a mother. Or a woman.”

Amanda nodded.

“Listen,” Maude said, “I know none of this makes much sense because I’m obviously not telling you all the details. But Sophia—she made me promise I wouldn’t.”

“That’s okay. You don’t need to tell me.”

Maude motioned to the letters again. “Will you read one? Tell me if you think I’m overreacting.”

“Oh, I …” Amanda hesitated. What if she didn’t react the right way?

“Please.”

“Sure, okay.” Amanda pulled a letter from one of the envelopes and unfolded it. The writing was so neat and pretty, the paper a cheerful sky blue.

Dear M,

I want you to know that none of this is your fault. I know you’ll blame yourself. You’ll think that if I had better self-esteem that I wouldn’t have gotten myself into this mess. Or maybe you’re going to think that you didn’t tell me all the things I needed to know. That if you’d given me some different kind of advice or the right facts, I could have protected myself.

But it’s not your fault. It’s my fault. I’m the only one to blame. I made so many stupid choices. And you definitely taught me better. You taught me everything I needed to know. I just messed up anyway.

I’m sorry, Mom. So, so sorry.

Xoxo

Sophia



Amanda thought about her own mother’s last piece of advice right before she died, when she’d wrapped her bony arms around Amanda from her hospital bed and pulled her close. “You run if you have to,” she’d whispered. “You run as fast as you can.”

Run where? That was all Amanda could think at the time. She’d been so very young.

“So?” Maude asked, motioning to Sophia’s letter. “Do you think Sebe’s right? That I should back off and let her figure it out on her own? Pretend like the whole thing isn’t happening?”

Amanda considered whether there was a “right” thing to say at that moment. Probably there was. But she opted instead for something much simpler: what she actually believed.

“I don’t think you can pretend your way through anything,” Amanda said, reaching out and putting a hand on Maude’s arm. “Closing your eyes won’t stop the bad things from finding you.”





Grand Jury Testimony




OFFICER DAVID FINNEGAN