Maybe Matt's Miracle(16)

I look up at her. Joey and Mellie still aren’t coming toward me. I live in the same house with them. Joey pulls on her teacher’s skirt and says quietly, “Is my mommy coming to get me?”

Pain slices through me. I don’t know how to explain death to the little ones. Seth doesn’t either, apparently.

The teacher squats down and says, “Now we talked about this, didn’t we, Josephine?”

Heck, I didn’t even know that Joey’s real name is Josephine. What kind of a mother am I?

Joey just blinks up at her.

“Mommy’s gone, and she’s not coming back,” the teacher says.

Joey’s eyes fill with tears, and I step around the teacher to pick her up. She comes to me, heavy and limp like a wet dishrag when I lift her. She lays her head on my shoulder and snuggles in. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t discuss their mother with them,” I bite out. I’m sure the teacher has good intentions. But, God, she was a little cold, in my opinion.

“They need to understand that she’s gone,” the teacher says.

I hold up a finger. “Shh,” I breathe in a crisp warning. The teacher purses her lips.

“Mommy wouldn’t leave,” Mellie says. She comes forward and takes my hand, her fingers wet from where they were just stuck in her mouth, but I don’t care. She’s touching me of her own free will. It’s me and the girls against the world.

“That’s right,” I say to her. “Mommy would never leave you on purpose.”

“Don’t give them hope that she’s coming back,” the teacher warns.

“Shh,” I slice out again.

She stops talking.

“Mommy can’t come back,” I explain. “Mommy didn’t want to go, but she didn’t have a choice.”

“Mommy will be back,” Mellie says quietly.

“Mommy loved you both so much,” I tell them.

“Both the girls need new clothes,” the teacher interjects.

I turn back to face her. “What?”

“Seth had been taking care of them for quite some time, so I didn’t say anything, but their clothes are getting too small. Mellie’s shoes are too tight, and Joey’s pants are about four inches too short. Children grow, Miss Morgan. A lot.”

I bite my tongue because I can’t think of anything nice to say, and I have been a lawyer long enough to know that no response is probably better than saying what’s on my mind. Because what’s on my mind is that I want her to take a long walk off a short pier.

When did I become such a barbarian?

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll take care of them,” I say instead. “I appreciate it.” They do have to come back here tomorrow after all.

I look down at the girls. “Who wants to go shopping?” I ask.

Mellie looks up and smiles. “Me,” she says. And I hear a softly whispered, “Me,” from right beside my ear.





Matt



It’s around seven in the evening when my phone rings. I’m outlining a tattoo on a client at Reed’s so I can’t answer it. Friday walks over and motions toward my pocket. “Do you want me to get that?” she asks.

I lift my gun and stand up so she can get in my pocket. “Please,” I say.

“Better be careful or Paul’s going to get jealous,” she teases as she fishes around my pocket.

Paul makes a noise. He’s been trying to get her in his pockets for as long as I can remember. “I think he’s already green with envy,” I say loudly.

“If green is the new red,” she tosses back. She pulls my phone out and puts it to her ear. We didn’t carry phones for a long time because we simply couldn’t afford it. But last Christmas, Emily’s dad bought us all new phones, since he has more money than God and nothing better to do with it. He said we were too hard to keep up with without them. But I think it was more Emily’s doing than his.

“Matt’s phone,” she chirps. “Hey, Seth,” she says, her face scrunching up. “Yeah, he’s here, hang on.” She presses the “speaker” button on the phone.

“What’s up, Seth?” I ask.

“Matt?” Seth asks, and he sound a little breathless.

“What’s wrong, Seth?” I ask. I set my gun down and start to pull off my gloves.

“Have you talked to Aunt Sky today?” he asks.

“No,” I reply, the hair on the back of my neck immediately standing up. “Why?”

“Today was the first day she was supposed to pick up the girls, and I just got home and no one is here. It’s getting late, is all.”

“I haven’t talked to her,” I say. “Do you want me to come over?” I’m already making my way to the front door and Pete is taking over with my client.

“Call us if you need us,” Paul says to my back. Like he has to remind me. With a glance over my shoulder, I wave at him, and he nods.

“Did you call her phone?” I ask.

“Yeah, but it’s going directly to voice mail. And the texts I sent say delivered but not read.”

“Her battery is probably dead, Seth,” I say. I’m not worried at all. Well, maybe a little.

“She should have called to tell me where she is,” he murmurs, and I can imagine him scruffing his hair in frustration.