My Name Is Venus Black(92)

“How nice of you,” Inez says. “To care about what Leo needs—after what you’ve done.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We—”

“Don’t apologize! How can you apologize for keeping my son from me for six years?” Inez hears herself and is struck by how shrill her voice is.

“I’m sorry,” the girl says quietly—and then realizes her mistake. “I mean…I know apologizing doesn’t change anything.”

She is hugging herself, staring at the carpet. Clearly she’s terrified of Inez.

“What’s in the suitcase?” Inez asks.

The girl hesitates. “Things like clothes that Leo likes. He gets really upset if—”

“You think I don’t know about my own son?”

“I’m sorry,” she says again.

“Look at me,” Inez orders. This is a voice she hasn’t used in years, one that comes from feeling her throat tighten with rage. In all her scheming and planning and hoping for Leo to come back to them—and, yes, even in all her praying—she never once imagined she’d get apologies from Leo’s kidnapper. In her mind it had been so simple. You catch the evil person or people who did this terrible thing and then you make sure they rot in jail forever.

This Tessa girl meets Inez’s eyes, her lower lip quivering. The problem is that she looks so damn innocent. Fucking Christ! Leo’s kidnapper is a sweet-faced teenager!



“Say what you came to say,” she says finally.

The girl takes a breath, looks directly at Inez. “Leo likes pizza now,” she says. “He practices his cello from four o’clock to five-thirty. He likes steak now, too. And even lasagna.”

When she pauses, Inez says, “Go on.”

The girl is clearly trying not to cry. “He wakes up on his own at seven A.M.,” she continues, her voice breaking. “He loves math and music. He hates reading and especially spelling. His toothbrush has to be yellow. His toothpaste has to be white Colgate. He likes to watch bowling on TV. I can write it all down for you if you like.”

A small brown hand flashes across her cheek to finally swipe at liquid tracks.

Inez can’t believe her ears. “Bowling? He likes to watch bowling on TV?”

“Yes. For hours if you let him. But he hates to go bowling.”

“You tried to take him bowling?” Inez asks, disbelieving.

“My dad did. But it was a big mistake. Leo hated all the crashing sounds.”

“Well, of course he did!” Inez barks.

Moments pass. “Did you see Tinker with Leo?” Inez asks. Since the girl is here, she might as well learn some things.

“You mean Phil?”

“Tinker. Phil. Whatever. Did he hurt Leo?”

“No, ma’am. Not so that you could see. But before…with Phil, Leo never got out of that apartment. His da—Phil kept him locked up in there and he was all alone. So I visited him because I was worried about him. At first, Leo would not answer the door. But I knew he was in there. I would hear him knocking his head on my wall at night.”

Inez feels a catch in her heart. He was missing them.

The girl goes on. “I finally borrowed my dad’s master key and I started to visit him secretly. I brought him things. Toys. Or some kind of food to see if he would eat it. He was so skinny. Then Phil let us have Leo over for Easter dinner, and I found out he liked peas.” A trembly smile crosses the girl’s face.



Inez’s head is whirling. She pictures Leo making his pea design on a plate. She hasn’t thought of that in years.

“And the cello?” Inez asks.

The girl brightens. “One day I brought home a clarinet, because I was taking lessons at school. And Leo loved it! But he loves cello best. He has an amazing gift for music.”

Inez is gladdened by this news but upset she missed such a miracle. “That’s great he’s made such progress. But when Tinker abandoned Leo, why didn’t you call the police instead of keeping him?”

“Phil—Tinker said his wife was a heroin addict who left them. I thought if we called the police that Leo would go to foster care. I couldn’t bear the idea of Leo being left with people he didn’t know.”

“Oh, the irony,” Inez says in a bitter voice. Then she leans over and puts her face in her hands.

“I guess I’ll go now,” says the girl. “But is there any way you could give Leo something to remember me by?” Inez glances up and sees Tessa take a yellow-and-purple ribbon from her hair. “These are his new favorite colors,” she adds, carefully smoothing the ribbon on the bed.

As soon as the girl is gone, Inez lets herself cry. She knows what it feels like to beg for forgiveness and not get it.





Late Thursday morning, I find myself standing in the hotel parking lot, arguing with Inez. Leo has finally been released to us, and we are free to pick him up and take him home. “You have to come with me on the plane, Venus,” Inez says. This is the third or fourth time she’s insisted. “You have to come with us!”

“I can’t,” I explain again, annoyed. “Someone has to drive the Honda back up, and I have someone I need to see in Seattle. This weekend is my only chance.” I put her small suitcase into the trunk of the Honda. Slam the lid. We’re going to pick up Leo first, and then I’ll take them to the airport.