Little Secrets(105)



“Does she have kids?” he asks hopefully.

“She did,” Marin says, and Sebastian doesn’t press it further.

She opens the door to Big Holes. Nobody is behind the counter and, as is usual at this time of the afternoon, there are only a few customers at the front, all regulars. Heads turn as she passes through with Sebastian, and she returns their smiles with a warm one of her own. When she gets to the back room, she takes a deep breath before pushing the door open.

She hopes this is a good thing. She hopes this doesn’t hurt anyone.

“Surprise!” they shout, and Sebastian jumps, his hand slipping out of hers.

She looks down at him, concerned, but she doesn’t need to be. Her son is absolutely thrilled, clapping his hands and laughing at the sight of a dozen helium-filled balloons bumping up against the ceiling, dangling curly streamers all the way down to the floor. In the middle of the room sits a pile of assorted donuts, and a Paw Patrol cake with blue and white icing. A large sign hanging above it reads, simply, Sebastian.

Frances gets to them first, smothering them both with hugs and kisses. And then it’s Simon, with tears, followed by Jamie and her shy smile, and then finally Lila, who’s brought her two younger children. There’s music and presents—So many presents, Mommy!—and Sebastian makes a beeline for the sprinkle donut at the top of the pile, which he promptly offers to one of Lila’s kids.

Marin was worried that it would be hard for them to see her son, alive and well and thriving, even though they’d all reassured her on the phone beforehand that it would be fine. She can see now that it is. They’re all parents. Whether their kids are with them or not, they’re genuinely delighted to be in the presence of a child they’ve talked about so often, a child they’ve wished for, and prayed for.

Frances squeezes her hand. “Derek couldn’t come?”

“Nah,” Marin says. “He isn’t comfortable doing the group thing. He’s waiting for us at home. It’s movie night. Lion King.”

“You guys doing okay?”

“We’re okay,” she answers. “We have to be, for Bash. We’re both staying in the house, and it’s good for all of us, for now. I’m not sure where we go from here, but we have time to figure that out. We still love each other. We’re friends. We’re on the same page when it comes to our son. Right now, those are the only things I’m certain about.”

Frances gives her another hug.

Marin watches Sebastian playing with Lila’s children. He’s laughing so hard that his icing-covered cheeks are pink. She still wakes up in the middle of the night, compelled to check that he’s asleep in his room and safe, but Dr. Chen says that will ease with time. At least she no longer needs medication to sleep.

Her phone pings, and she checks it. It’s a text from Derek.

Let me know when you’re on your way back, and I’ll order the pizza. No rush. Love and miss you guys.

She doesn’t know how to feel when he says things like this, so she responds the only way she feels comfortable. She sends back a heart.

With Sebastian occupied and everyone else otherwise engaged in conversation, Marin takes a seat in a corner chair and scrolls through her phone. The number of texts and calls she’s received from friends, family, and clients over the past few weeks has been overwhelming. She still hasn’t caught up on them all.

Near the bottom of her list of messages are old texts from Sal. She can’t bring herself to delete them yet. It’s hard to reconcile the person she thought she knew with the person he turned out to be. He put her through absolute hell, but he was also the one who helped her survive it. They were best friends for over twenty years, and up until the past year and a half, most of those years were good. It’s confusing how love and hate can exist at the same time, intertwined and tangled and messy and confusing, even after a person is dead.

Sal’s text messages are the only concrete thing Marin has left to remind herself that somewhere deep inside, he was good. And he loved her. He’ll never text her again.

She checks the last message Sal sent, the same one he sent her every morning for months and months.

You alive?

Across the room, a balloon pops, and Sebastian shrieks with joy. Marin’s heart swells at the sound.

You’re goddamned right she is.





Author’s Note


Novel writing is always hard, but this was probably the most difficult book I’ve ever written. I don’t outline my stories in advance, so I often surprise—and scare—myself by the direction a story takes. It was uncomfortable and heartbreaking exploring the depths of Marin’s downward spiral after her young son goes missing. I, too, have a little boy, and losing him is my greatest fear. It wasn’t easy delving into Marin’s mindset, and in my efforts to stay true to her character, I didn’t want to shy away from or sugarcoat her struggles. Please know I understand that some of her thoughts and actions may have been disturbing and difficult for some readers.

If you ever experience thoughts of self-harm or suicide, please seek help. You are not alone.





Acknowledgments


One of the greatest days of my writing life was when Victoria Skurnick plucked me out of the slush pile. Ten years and six published books later, we’re still working together, and every writer should be so lucky to have an agent like mine. She puts out all my fires and slays all my dragons. Victoria, I can’t imagine any of this would have happened without you, and I’m grateful for you every day.

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