Night Road(73)



There, she found an empty table and sat down, tapping her foot nervously on the floor. Guards were stationed around the room, watching everything, but other than that, it almost looked like a school cafeteria.

Finally, Eva came through the door. She looked smaller and older, with her gray hair frizzing out around her pleated face. As always, she looked uncomfortable in here, out of place.

“Over here, Aunt Eva!” Lexi said, raising her hand as if she were a high school girl again.

Eva shuffled forward. At the table, she stopped suddenly and kind of collapsed into the chair. “Lord, help me,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You’d think I was the criminal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh. I didn’t mean that. It was just an ordeal, getting in today. Something must be up. That’s all. How are you?” She reached across the table and patted Lexi’s hand, smiling brightly. “How are you this week?”

Lexi didn’t mean to grab her aunt’s hands, but she couldn’t help herself. It felt so good to touch someone. The depth of her need surprised her. She was so hungry for conversation, for connection, that she launched into a review of the book she’d read this week, and she told Eva all about her job in the laundry. In turn, Eva told her about the summer sale at Walmart and the weather in Port George.

It wasn’t until Lexi had run out of news that she really looked at her aunt, and that was when she saw the changes. It had only been two months since Lexi’s incarceration, but these visits had already left marks on Eva’s face. Her wrinkles were deeper, her lips thinner. She had to keep clearing her throat, as if it hurt to speak.

Once Lexi saw all of that, she couldn’t unsee it. She understood all at once how selfish she’d been to this woman who had never been anything but kind.

“Have you started taking college courses yet?” Eva asked, pushing the fuzzy hair out of her eyes.

“No.”

“You can get a degree in here. Just like you planned.”

“I think ex-cons have a hard time getting into law school.” Lexi slumped back in her chair, feeling defeated now, alone. She’d been through this kind of thing before, back when she’d been in the care of strangers. She’d waited and waited to see her mom, only to be heartbroken again and again. Sometimes the only way to survive was to stop hoping. Stop waiting.

Eva had been there for Lexi in a way that no one else ever had. We’re family, Eva had said to her on that day, so long ago now, when they’d first come together, and it had become the truth.

Now it was Lexi’s turn. If she didn’t release Eva now, her aunt would stay here, connected to this terrible place by a string of uncomfortable visiting days. “You should go to Florida,” she said quietly.

Eva stopped. Had she been saying something? “What do you mean? I can’t leave you.”

Lexi leaned forward, grasped Eva’s hands across the table. “I’m going to be in here for more than five years. And I know how much you want to live with Barbara—this rainy weather is so hard on your knees. You deserve to be happy, Eva. Really.”

“Don’t say that, Lexi.”

Lexi swallowed hard. She knew what she had to do. Eva would have to be forced to let go. “I won’t see you again, Eva. It won’t do you any good to come back.”

“Oh, Alexa…”

It was all in that softly spoken name—the regret, the disappointment, the loss—and it hurt to hear it; mostly it hurt to know that she was pushing away the only person in the world who loved her. But it was for Eva’s own good.

And wasn’t that what love was supposed to be?

“When I get out, I’ll come to Florida,” Lexi said.

“I won’t let you do this,” Eva said, her eyes filling with tears.

“No. I won’t let you do this,” Lexi said. “Give me this, Eva. Please. Let me do this for you. It’s all I can do.”

Eva sat there a long time. Then, finally, she wiped her eyes. “I’ll write every week.”

Lexi could only nod.

“And I’ll send pictures.”

They kept talking, both of them trying to say everything that was needed, building up a store of words that would keep them warm come winter. But finally, the time was over, and Eva got to her feet. She looked even older now, more tired. And Lexi knew she’d done the right thing.

“Good-bye, Alexa,” Eva said.

Lexi stood there, nodding. “Thanks for…” Her voice broke.

Eva pulled her into a hug and held on to her tightly. “I love you, Alexa,” she said.

Lexi was shaking when she drew back. “I love you, too, Eva.”

Eva looked at her through shiny eyes. “And you remember this: I knew your mama. You are nothing like her, you hear me? And don’t you let this place change that.”

And then she left.

Lexi stood there for as long as she could see her aunt. Finally, she left the visitors’ room and returned to her cell. She hadn’t been there for more than forty minutes when a guard came and stood in the open doorway.

“Baill. Get your things.”

Lexi scooped up her few belongings—toiletries, letters, photographs—and put them in a dented shoe box, then she followed the guard into the main section of the prison.

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