Dangerous Lies (35 page)

Carmina hopped out, her red boots landing solidly on the drive. She looked between me and my mom, and her face changed. It grew watchful. I guessed she saw a resemblance, because her first words were “You must be Savannah.”

“That’s right. And you are?” It seemed to me that my mom’s voice was unnecessarily cool, and I cast a quick glance of apology at Carmina.

“Carmina Songster. Welcome to Thunder Basin.”

“I’m here to pick up Stella. This shouldn’t take long. Stella, darling, why don’t you go on inside, pack your bags?”

I eyed Carmina, whose expression was unflappable. “I wasn’t aware you were coming to fetch Stella today,” she said.

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission,” my mom returned, her voice tainted with something subtle. Resentment, perhaps.

“Permission? Heavens, no. Not from me, anyway. You’re her legal guardian.”

“I’m her
mother
.”

“Yes, of course. I wonder, though,” Carmina mused patiently. “Have you thought this through? If you take Stella from Thunder Basin, you’ll have to notify the U.S. Marshals Service. They need to keep tabs on her, since she’s agreed to testify for the prosecution. This was all explained in the contract you signed with the marshals upon entering WITSEC.”

“I don’t need to tell them anything,” my mom said loftily. “The program is voluntary. We can leave witness protection at any point. If Estella and I go, they can’t tell us what to do.”

“Would you do that?” Carmina asked, her voice still measured. “Would you put Stella in that kind of danger? If you leave, you’ll have to return to your old identities. The U.S. marshals will no longer be responsible for your safety. I know you want your old life back, but it’s no longer safe. It isn’t an option. I know moving on is hard, but you have to try. You need to think about your daughter now. What she needs.”

“I know how to keep my daughter safe,” my mom said, clutching my shoulders protectively. “I’m not taking her back to Philadelphia.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Carmina told her bluntly.

“Go on, Stella,” my mom repeated more firmly, her eyes flaring as they locked with Carmina’s. “Our flight leaves at noon.”

“You bought tickets?” Panic seemed to close my throat. She was really going through with this. What about rehab? She was clean now, but how long would it last? Would she even make it to Boston before relapsing?

“You still have weeks of rehab left,” I said.

“I told you I’m clean,” she said, flustered and irritated. That Southern charm was chipping away, revealing the anxious, defensive woman I remembered. “I always said I’d quit when I was ready. And I’ve quit. Now, get your bags. We don’t have a lot of time.”

I suddenly feared I wouldn’t have time to say good-bye to Chet. To Inny and Dixie Jo. I couldn’t go without letting them know how much they meant to me. How could I leave Chet without apologizing for last night? Without setting things right? This wasn’t how I wanted to remember him: hurt and frustrated while I shut him out. It wasn’t fair to him. It made me ache just thinking about it.

“Why don’t you come in and I’ll make you both breakfast,” Carmina suggested to my mom. “You can’t travel on an empty stomach. Have you eaten, Stella?” she asked me, before my mom could reject the offer.

I shook my head no, grateful for the opportunity to slow time. Everything felt rushed. How many nights had I lain awake in my cramped bedroom upstairs, counting down the days until I was back on the East Coast, surrounded by strangers in a city brimming with energy and opportunity? I’d dreamed of returning to Estella’s life. But that was a fantasy. A secret wish you kept inside, because it didn’t belong in the real world. I couldn’t go back and I couldn’t leave WITSEC. But I also couldn’t abandon my mom.

“Carmina makes the best breakfast,” I told my mom. “Pancakes and eggs and bacon. It won’t take long.”

“I had coffee on the drive,” she answered brusquely. At my fallen face, she sighed impatiently. “A
couple
minutes, Stella. Then we really need to go.”

Carmina showed my mom to the downstairs powder room to freshen up, and I went upstairs to pack. One bag was all I needed. I hadn’t amassed much in the way of belongings over the summer. Most of what I’d be taking, I realized, were memories carefully collected and stored inside me. For no apparent reason, a surge of tears brimmed my eyes.

The door opened. “Stella,” Carmina said gently.

I drew my sleeve across my eyes. “I’m okay. Really. I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine,” I blubbered. “This won’t take long. I don’t have much to pack. I’ve hardly gained anything.” I glanced at the meager spread of clothes I’d placed on my bed. My yellow sundress. The boots Carmina had made me. Chet’s hat.

“Funny,” she said, sitting on the edge of the mattress, “I was just thinking how much I’ve gained by having you here this summer. You were a blessing, Stella. I went to bed every night, my heart filled with a little more joy. I thank God for the time I had with you.”

Unable to contain myself, I threw my arms around her. “Oh, Carmina. Do you really want me to go?”

“I don’t want you to go,” she said, blinking, but not fast enough to keep her eyes from dampening. “Oh, Stella. I don’t want you to go. Can’t you see that? Deep down, I don’t think you want to go either.”

“I don’t want to take care of my mom, but if I don’t, who will? She’ll never make it alone.”

Her smile was sweet and sad. She bent my head to her shoulder and ran her worn, loving fingers over my hair. “Stella, if you leave, there is nothing stopping Danny Balando from finding you and your mother,” she said gravely, the first note of concern seeping into her voice. “She may tell herself Boston isn’t Philadelphia, but she’s walking as close to the fire as she can without getting burned—or so she tells herself. You can’t get in that car with her. Do you understand? Legally I can’t stop her from taking you. She’s your guardian, and as much as I don’t want to, I have to follow the law. Deputy Price and I can help you file for emancipation, but it will take time. If you go with your mom, the clock will work against us.”

“What are you saying I should do?”

“Go to Chet’s. Go out the back door. Stay there until I come get you. Let me deal with your mother. I’ll try to help her see the danger in her plan.”

Three months ago, that’s exactly what I would have done. Run away. Dodged my problems rather than solved them. Wished my mother away. Pretended she didn’t exist, then resented her for doing just that. Running away hadn’t worked three months ago, and it wouldn’t work now.

For once, I had to be honest. And show her how strong I’d become. I needed to tell her I wasn’t going to Boston and I hoped she didn’t either. If she really wanted to try to make things work between us, she had to finish rehab. I knew it wasn’t the be-all and end-all, but it was a step. A show of good faith.

“No. I should be the one to tell her,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Carmina squeezed my hand. “Do you want me to come with you?”

I shook my head no. My mom would be more defensive if she thought this was Carmina’s idea.

I moved down the staircase, my hand slick on the worn banister, feeling the weight of each footfall. I didn’t know how my mom would react. Or maybe I did. And that’s why my legs felt watery and my stomach tight. I tempered the feeling of nerves and dwindling confidence, and entered the living room to see my mom bent over Carmina’s purse.

“What are you doing?” I sputtered.

She jumped. In one swift movement, her hand was out of the purse and in her own pocket. When she turned, her smile was as smooth and sweet as candy. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“What did you put in your pocket?”

“Listen, darling, I was thinking we could stay in the city tonight. Play tourists through the weekend, then start looking for an apartment in the suburbs the following—”

“What did you put in your pocket?” I demanded, striding forward. I tried to grab her, but she swatted my hand away.

“Don’t touch me, Estella. I’m—I don’t like the way you’re looking at me.”

“What did you take from Carmina’s purse?”

“I thought I dropped a hairpin—”

“Money. Is that what you took?” My voice was edged with anger. “So you can buy drugs? I knew you didn’t clean up. Too easy.” I could have kicked myself for believing her—no, for
wanting
to believe. We were rewinding the clock. My mom was back to being a fountain of lies. I was back to being undeserving of any respect. “You checked out early because you couldn’t go another day without getting high!”

“Hush, Estella,” my mom snapped. “Don’t you say those things about your own mother. It’s not nice.”

“You stole from Carmina.” My jaw was quivering. “After everything she’s done for me. She took me in when no one else wanted me.”

“I wanted you, baby—” she began, reaching for me.

I threw my hands up, shielding myself. “Stop it. Just—stop.” I closed my eyes, tears squeezing out. “You have to leave. You need to go. Back to rehab, somewhere else, I don’t care. But you’re leaving. And I’m not going with you.”

I felt ill. My knees were doing a poor job of holding me up, but I had to keep it together and get her out. It was the only thought drumming in my head. I gripped the wall, trying to flush out the worst of the nausea. I didn’t want to remember all those times I’d come home to find her lying in a puddle of vomit, her skin blue, her pupils tiny pinpricks. I’d wonder if she was dead, secretly hope she was. . . .

“I need you, baby.” Her voice cracked.

“Stop. Leave. Please. Just go.” I was begging now.

Her eyes were wet. But all those nights before, her eyes had been dry. She’d stared vacantly at her bedroom ceiling, and I’d pulled off her shoes and covered her in blankets, then watched over her through the night. Would she live? What would become of me? I’d spent hours pondering those questions.

For years now, I’d taken care of her. I’d wanted to believe I was helping her. It had taken coming to Thunder Basin to see the truth. I wasn’t helping anyone. Least of all her. The longer I protected her, the more people she would hurt.

“I can’t go alone,” she whispered, her face a blotchy mix of pink and translucent white. In that moment, she really did look like a child. Small and frightened.

“If you stay, I’ll tell Carmina.”

“You can’t do this to me.”

“I won’t let you steal from Carmina.”

My mom made a bewildered sound. “Where will I go?”

“If you’re smart, back to rehab.”

Now her eyes flashed. “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t judge me. Don’t stand there all self-righteous and look down at me. You have no idea what it was like for me. I kept the perfect house, I hosted the best parties, I made his friends laugh. I gave him a beautiful baby girl. I did everything right, and he left me!” Her voice was inflamed, bordering on hysterical. In the next moment, it tumbled to weeping despair. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I had dreams. I had—I had—” She covered her face with her hands. “I have nothing. It’s all gone,” she sobbed. “If you leave me too, what will happen to me?”

My head was pounding. I didn’t want her to have this power over me—to draw me in, then cast me away. Then suck me back in. I hated being caught in her tide. I’d spent years at its mercy, feeling moments away from capsizing.

And then I’d come to Thunder Basin. The tide had receded. This summer had been a secret treasure. A guilty, selfish, gratifying escape. I’d been a fool to think it would last. Carmina was right. Our pasts were hitched to us; we couldn’t outrun them.

I felt the tide tugging at my heels, but this time I would not surrender to it. She was my mom. I wanted her to get better. Deep down, I cared about her. But I had to remember that
she
was the mother. Not the other way around. I couldn’t make her do anything.

“You need to leave.” I pushed the words out from someplace deep inside. A stronger version of myself was speaking now.

“You can’t do this.”

“I can’t protect you anymore. I can’t lie.” I wanted to confront her about Reed, too, but given everything else, her relationship with him seemed insignificant. I let it pass. But I would not ignore that she wasn’t better, wasn’t ready to be my mom again.

Her face blank, she turned to the door. I shut my eyes and listened to her uncertain steps moving farther away. My chest was painfully tight. I felt a heavy loss inside me that was both sorrow and relief.

The door shut behind her, and I sank to the floor.

The drag of the tide released me.

THE SETTING SUN DRAGGED AWAY
the day’s heat, and as I rocked in Carmina’s porch swing, drinking a glass of her sweet tea, the night air felt almost balmy as it whispered over my skin. The weather was changing, shifting toward autumn. Summer was drawing to an end. So was my time here, in this quiet, beautiful refuge. Tomorrow was coming, and it was painful to think about. Tomorrow meant change. It meant saying good-bye. Starting from scratch all over again.

When I tried to imagine where Deputy Price would take me, what my new bedroom would look like, what my new job would be, everything went blurry. I wanted to stay here. I wasn’t ready to leave. Part of me, a very small, unrealistic part, daydreamed about what it would be like to stay permanently. To make Thunder Basin my home.