Stone Cold Fox (92)

That wasn’t a threat, it was an insult. I looked over my shoulder at the house and realized I wouldn’t mind that at all. A permanent home. I couldn’t think of a better place to go.

“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?” Mother asked.

“No,” I said out of instinct. She still felt like a dream even though I knew this was real. There was nothing hazy about her presence, it hit me like a shovel to my face, but it was difficult to reconcile that she was actually standing before me. I knew her so well and yet I didn’t know her at all. So much can happen in ten years. “Collin will be home—”

“Home late,” she finished with a grin, informing me her work into my life was far from over. “He’s out. A family emergency. By the time he gets to Connecticut and back, we’ll be gone. So why don’t you give me the grand tour and show me what a big girl you are. Don’t you want to parade around as the lady of the house? I promise to act very impressed. Make me proud.”

Logically I knew there would be no point to such a charade, but there was still that little girl inside me that wanted to make Mother proud. I still wanted to make her like me, because when she liked me, no matter how fleeting, it always felt good. I had always wanted to be on her team. I could charm anyone at will, but with her, I really had to work at it. And even when I thought I had her, it wasn’t really a win, was it? She always had the upper hand. With her, I always lost. Mother’s game against me was the only one I never figured out how to win. It drove me crazy still.

A text from Collin demanded my attention before I could muster up a response in any direction. Be home later. Mother was right.

“How far along are you?” she asked, looking my body up and down, biting the inside of her cheeks.

“Almost five months,” I told her. To hear her acknowledge my unborn child made me feel heavier with guilt. The child was so innocent and yet they had come from her, from me. Surely that would change. Wasn’t it their destiny?

“I hated being pregnant,” Mother sneered. “Both times. I don’t know why I even did it a second time.”

“You never told me about Syl,” I said to her softly, letting the insult about me roll off my back as best I could, but I knew I’d feel the effects later when I would least expect it.

“She’s not one of us.”

“She told me about the fire . . .” I trailed off intentionally. I wanted to hear the story from her, if she would tell it.

“She told you about that, hmm?” Mother chuckled to herself, like it was old family lore that was a pleasure to periodically revisit when we all got together for the holidays. “Not my best work, but I was young and wild and impulsive. No precision. Not like what I could do now. I really thought I could swing that whole thing with Giles. Be normal, like what you’re attempting here with Collin. I married the man, I had the baby, we had the house, we had money. Nothing like this, but more than enough. I had everything we were supposed to want. I think I always knew it wasn’t for me, deep down, but I felt I should try for the so-called American Dream. Maybe I could be like everyone else if I applied myself, willing myself to want what I actually had in my hands. I wanted to be like everyone else, forced it on myself, until I couldn’t take it anymore. Not physically. Not mentally. Not at all. And you’ll get there, too, if you carry on this way. You’re just like me, despite your best efforts. Look what you did to Gale.”

“I’m different from you,” I squeaked, clearly not believing it myself. It made her laugh.

“When I got pregnant the second time, with you, I had to get out at any cost. It was stifling and boring and I wanted no part of it anymore, but I admit that I didn’t want them hurt. It was sloppy. I secured the cash and hatched a harebrained plan. They weren’t even supposed to be home. Anyway, it wasn’t my intention for him to end up where he did, or the girl for that matter. I just wanted them to think I was dead so they would never come looking for me. For us. I wanted them to think that we were dead.”

“I don’t believe you. You didn’t care about them.”

“I cared enough, didn’t I? They’re alive.” She took a few steps toward me, but I took a few steps back. She snickered, but stopped moving, keeping her distance.

“Why did you keep me? You must have considered other options.”

“Of course I did,” she said coldly.

“So why did you?” I had always wanted to ask her, but I’d been so afraid to ask her anything when I was young. I was still afraid, with much more to lose, but if not now, when?

“I thought you would be a useful tool,” she said matter-of-factly. “Something to make it more fun. More exciting. An interesting variable in the inevitable monotony of life. And we had fun, didn’t we? I know we did. You can’t say it was boring.”

“No,” I said, surprised by the conviction in my voice, but I didn’t believe her. I believed that’s what she would tell me, but I thought the answer was much darker. I wanted her to admit it to my face. “That’s not it.”

“Oh?” Mother was amused, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “What’s your hypothesis then?”

“Syl told me that she wasn’t close to you at all. The way other girls can be with their mothers. She found you frightening. Almost repellent. And I think that hurt your feelings, Mother. She hurt your feelings.”