Little Secrets(103)

She looks up to the window, where Sal’s hand is raised once again, and it occurs to her then that goodbye waves look the same as hellos.

“I love you, Marin,” he says, and the phone disconnects.

She hears the pop and sees the spark from the muzzle, but can only imagine the sound of Sal’s body when it drops to the floor.



* * *



They’re not allowed to go down into the wine cellar or even into the tasting room, so Marin and Derek wait outside. Seconds pass like minutes. Minutes pass like hours.

The double doors are finally wrenched open, and McKenzie comes out first, led by a police officer. She’s not in handcuffs. Her face lights up when she sees Derek, just for a second, but then she seems to remember that they’re not together, and never really were, and never will be again. She doesn’t look at Marin at all. She passes them both without a word.

A moment passes, and then the doors open again. And there, holding the hand of one of the FBI agents, is her son.

They take their time walking out. He’s frightened by the lights and the commotion, and he’s clutching a giant teddy bear in his free arm, his eyes wide and scanning all the faces, stopping only once as his gaze fixes on Marin. She tentatively raises a hand, terrified she’ll scare him, even more terrified that this isn’t real and that if she tries to move toward him he’ll disappear like vapor, like he always does in her dreams. His face—his perfect, beautiful, round, sweet face with eyes that mirror her own—is exactly as she remembers, though the length of him has changed, because he’s grown. From somewhere near her, Derek lets out a sob.

Her little boy holds her gaze for a few seconds, uncertain, and then his face brightens as he understands who she is. She’s too far away to hear him say it, but she sees his mouth form the word. Mommy.

Sebastian.

She sprints to him as he drops the teddy bear and runs to her, his small arms outstretched, and it really is just like in her dreams, only this time they make contact, because he’s here, he’s real, he’s alive, he’s safe.

And Marin’s heart—which was led away from her four hundred ninety-four days ago—comes back to her.





PART FOUR


one month later


Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end

—SEMISONIC





Chapter 33


The line at the Green Bean is long when Marin enters, but she’s not here for the coffee. She readjusts the black duffel bag on her shoulder and looks around. The bag is Derek’s; she pulled it out of the trunk of his car, but he doesn’t need what’s in it. Neither does Marin.

It takes a moment to spot her. She’s not working behind the counter; she’s wiping down a table toward the back of the coffee shop, and she looks up when Marin approaches. The pink in her hair has faded to a brassy blond that makes her complexion look sallow. Funny how the first time Marin ever saw her, she’d seemed so vibrant, so beautiful, so intimidatingly young and full of life. Now she looks like any other overworked grad student—exhausted, stressed, and nothing special.

McKenzie’s face pales and she backs up a step. Marin raises a hand.

“I’m not here to make a scene,” she says, and the younger woman visibly exhales. “Can we talk?”

The table in the back corner is empty, and Marin remembers it as the table she sat in the day she came in to spy on McKenzie. Was that only five weeks ago? It feels like she’s lived a lifetime since then, between therapy appointments for Sebastian, therapy for herself, and the ongoing establishment of a structured routine that her now five-year-old son very much craves.

He’s doing well, though. The child psychologist reassures her often that kids are resilient, and Dr. Chen has said the same thing. It turns out Lorna was quite good to Marin’s son, as far as the circumstances went. Sal had lied to his mother at first, telling her she needed to help him keep Marin’s son safe from Derek, the supposedly abusive husband, and of course Lorna had complied. She’d believed everything Sal told her … until, finally, she didn’t.

Over the sixteen months she had Sebastian, Lorna had taken good care of him. She fed him. Bathed him. Read books to him. Brought him toys. Took him outside every day that she was able to, letting him run around in the fresh air and sunshine. She talked to him about Marin every day, about how much his mommy loved him, and missed him, and would come for him as soon as she could. Nothing much was said about Derek, as Lorna believed Sebastian’s father to be the villain, but neither did she badmouth him.

Lorna’s hip, by the way, was fine. She’d recovered well from her hip replacement surgery the year before, and it turned out that all her additional ailments were more lies Sal had made up to justify going home to Prosser so often to check on Sebastian. The gunshot wound to her arm was more of a nick, but the head injury she sustained wrestling her son for the gun was pretty bad. She’d had another surgery, and she was still in the hospital under close observation.

Marin takes a seat at the table, placing the duffel bag down on the floor beside her. It’s not that heavy, but it’s awkward, and she’s glad not to have to carry it anymore. McKenzie takes the seat across from her, placing the wet rag she was cleaning with on the table between them like a microfiber barrier.

“You look terrible,” Marin says.