Guess there were some advantages to living in a house where your father was mostly passed out on the couch all day. Then again, maybe Brette was playing it up so Makay wouldn’t guess that what she was really offering was charity.
“Well, what do you say?” Brette asked.
Makay’s thoughts raced. Right now the most appealing thing about moving from her urine-drenched apartment building was that Lenny wouldn’t know where she’d gone. Yes, the building itself was a mess and her apartment a hole in that mess, and she’d be more than relieved to get away, but that meant nothing compared with keeping Nate safe and with her. That was more important than her pride and her suspicion that this house offer of Brette’s was a little bit of a handout. Of course moving might drastically limit her income, without the old people around to buy her groceries, but maybe her tips at work could make up the difference. She could still keep her inventory of food at the apartment for the rest of the month and see how it went. Maybe she could even have one of the old people store and sell goods for her until she found other means of earning additional income. It was worth considering. Janice from the first floor might be a good candidate.
It meant a leap of faith, not only trusting Brette, but trusting herself to be able to support Nate in a better environment. Maybe there would be children nearby he could play with, children with mothers who loved them, mothers who didn’t spend time searching for their next hit or constantly dump the kids on a neighbor so they could be with their boyfriends. Maybe she could build Nate a sandbox.
“I’d like to try it.” Her voice came out a bit rough from the emotion tumbling about in her heart. “Thank you.”
“No, thank
you.
I’m really looking forward to it. At the club Friday, we hit it off so well, and I think Nate is the best kid I’ve ever met. I’ll text you the address of the house. It’s in Phoenix, the west side. When do you think you’ll be able to come by to see the house?”
“I could drive by in a half hour or so to help you with the electricity. I have an errand to run out that way. I was going to do it later, but I can do it now.”
“Oh, that would be fabulous!”
Makay hung up, thinking about her so-called “errand.” Harrison might not be happy to hear she’d visited one of the people from his mother’s past without him, but she wasn’t about to start waiting on anyone. She needed to know the truth.
You already know the truth,
a nasty little voice said in her head. Pain filled her as she remembered Harrison’s touch and the way he’d kissed her.
“Makay?”
She looked down at Nate, who stared up at her, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Aren’t you going to open the car? These books are heavy.”
She squatted down in front of him, taking his load. “Hey, you know how sometimes we talk about moving to a place where Snoop can have a yard to play in? And maybe some nice kids living nearby?”
His eyes widened. “And a swing?”
“Maybe. Well, a friend of Lily’s has a house, and she’d like some roommates. I’ve been thinking we could try it out and see if we like it. If we hate it, we’d just move back to our apartment.”
“Are you talking about Brette?” A grin spread across his face. “I heard her talking to Lily about being scared. I told her I was never scared because you were around. But don’t worry. I didn’t tell her about your gun.”
Makay groaned inside. “Good. But I hope the gun isn’t the only reason you aren’t scared.”
“You always take care of me.” Nate put an arm around her neck. “That’s why I’m not scared. And Snoop isn’t either.”
“So do you want to go look at the house?”
“Sure!”
As they drove to Phoenix, Makay had more time to consider her situation with Harrison. Could she throw herself on Lenny’s mercy and ask him to find another target? She didn’t have much hope of that going over well. Regardless, she was not going to let Lenny take advantage of Harrison’s family. One option was to report Lenny to the police, but there was still that file he claimed to have that implicated her—and being familiar with the care he used to create the manila folders he always gave her, there was no doubt in her mind that it existed. So turning Lenny in simply wasn’t an option if she wanted to remain free to take care of Nate. Unless she somehow broke into Lenny’s apartment and got rid of it.
The address for Sherry’s mother’s friend wasn’t exactly on the way to Brette’s house, but it was in Phoenix, and the detour to the apartment wouldn’t take her too far out of the way. All the way there, she questioned the wisdom of going to see this stranger without Harrison, and by the time she arrived, she still didn’t feel comfortable with her choice.
Nate eyed the four-story apartment building. “This isn’t a house.”
Makay looked up and down the road where a group of scantily-dressed men were smoking near a dilapidated palm tree. “Oh, sorry. I have to talk with a lady here first. If she’s home. I didn’t want to come after we went to see the house because they might be having dinner or something.”
“Do I have to come in?”
“Yes. But you can bring a book.”
With the tortured sigh of a victim, Nate dragged himself from the car, bringing the book
Harold and the Purple Crayon.
Inside the building, they found Audrey Phillips, the woman they were looking for, sitting in a large bed and staring at a tiny television on top of a dresser. The dark room was so small that the bed barely fit inside, shoved up against a bookshelf and a narrow window. Every surface of the bookshelf and dresser, and even the windowsill, was filled with knickknacks and other pieces of a woman’s life.
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” said the woman’s granddaughter, who had let them in. Makay was glad she left the door open because it made the room feel slightly less confining.
Audrey was a brown, wrinkled, walnut of a woman, who peered at them with dark eyes. Her white hair was so thin that her mottled scalp showed through. “Is it time for dinner?”
Makay indicated to Nate that he could sit in the small space between the dresser and the bed, and he did, his head tilting way back and his eyes riveting to the television game show that was playing.
“I’m a friend of Harrison Matthews,” Makay said to the old woman. “I’m here to ask you some questions about his mother, Sherry Matthews. She used to be Sherry Brocker?”
Audrey concentrated, her wrinkles becoming more pronounced. “Ah, you mean Edith’s daughter.”
“Yes.”
“Good kid, but she had no taste in men, not until the last one.” The old woman frowned. “Didn’t know how to keep them from taking advantage of her. Just like her mother in that respect.”
“So you know about the babies.”
“Oh, yeah. She was lucky she didn’t end up with either of the fathers. First one was a no-good bum on drugs and the second was married.” Her white head swung back and forth slowly. “She was too naive to learn anything the first time. Good thing she found someone to take care of her and the little boy.”
“Harrison,” Makay supplied. “Do you know what happened to the second baby?”
“Edith never told me, but I know what happened. Sherry was a sweet kid, always so loving to her mother and to her little boy. She wanted her baby to have a better life.” Audrey’s eyes met hers, and Makay could see that the brown of her eyes was covered by cloudy growths.
“I went to Edith’s once,” Audrey continued, “and Sherry was there crying in the bathroom, stomach clear out to here.” Her hand shook as she showed Makay. “That was the first I knew of the baby, but I’d seen her around with the father before she got big. He’d left her long before that. Anyway, she was crying and hugging her stomach while the little boy ate cookies in the kitchen with Edith. Cried like her heart was breaking. I asked her what was wrong, and she said she couldn’t keep the baby, but she didn’t know if she could live without her.” Again the shaking of her head. “About broke my heart. Musta been when she made the decision.”
The image of Sherry Matthews mourning the baby she would never raise made Makay feel achy inside, as though glimpsing something she could never have. She knew that feeling too well. Her entire life she’d reached for things, but always what she wanted was just out of grasp. Only Nate had filled part of her longing.
Makay blinked hard. “The decision to place the baby for adoption, you mean.”
“I think so. Sherry was too kind for anything else. And in the end, she did go on with her life. That’s what women do. They pick up the pieces, care for the babies, and go on—no matter how bad they’re hurting inside.” Audrey spoke with such authority that Makay wondered what had happened in the old woman’s life to bring her that kind of knowledge.
“Made me downright happy the next year when Sherry got married to that air conditioner guy,” Audrey said after a few seconds of silence. “Edith died happy because of that, God rest her soul.”
They were quiet a few moments and then Makay couldn’t help asking. “The baby’s father. You said you saw them together—him and Sherry. Do you know his name?”
“No, but I have a picture. Hand me that book there. Second to the end.”
Makay squeezed past Nate, who’d lost interest in the game show and had opened his book. She grabbed the photo album and passed it to Audrey, her fingers twitching anxiously as she waited for the old woman to find the picture. If Sherry was her mother, this man would be her father. Makay didn’t know how to feel about that after hearing what Audrey said about him. Obviously, he wouldn’t be ready to welcome her into his life any more than Sherry was.
Sherry, who had cried bitterly and thought she couldn’t live without her baby.
Audrey held out the album. “It was the little boy’s second birthday. Edith and I were there, and so was he. I was the only one with a camera and they asked me to take some pictures. Funny thing is, that man didn’t show up in any of the pictures except this one. Guess he was camera shy. Sherry should have known then that he was fixin’ to dump her when he was finished having his fun. Took me a couple months to get the pictures developed and by that time he was gone. Edith wouldn’t take this picture to Sherry with the others. Didn’t want to make her sad.”
Makay’s insides felt weak, but her hands were steady as she took the album. She peered at the dark picture for a moment, looking at the man. He was in a corner of the picture, barely in the frame, positioned as if he were moving away. Recognition seeped through her and with it came hope. She knew him! Even in this poor picture and all the years separating him from the man he was now, Makay knew him. He was a lot younger and his face was blurry, but it was him. In the picture, Sherry gazed in his direction, her face bright as if he held all her hopes and dreams. And maybe he had.
Audrey’s eyesight might be obscured by whatever made her eyes cloudy, but she asked, “What’s wrong, dear?”
Makay shook her head. “Do you . . . know when the baby was born?”
“I don’t remember, but it was sometime that year. She might have already been expecting.”
“Do you think I can take this to make a copy? I’ll bring it back. I’d like to give it to Harrison.”
Audrey waved a hand. “Keep it. I don’t need it. I only have it because I didn’t want to throw away Edith’s grandson. You go ahead and give it to him. I won’t be around much longer.” She made a face. “It stinks getting older, you know, but at least I got my granddaughter. She’s kinder to me than most might be. I know it ain’t fun taking care of an old lady.”
Makay commiserated and thanked her for the picture. As they exited the building, Nate said, “It smelled really funny in her room. Like Sally. Is that because they’re both so old?”
Makay thought about the old woman from her apartment building, forever asking to put her purchases on the tab she never paid. “Maybe.” She suspected the smell was impending death, instead of age, but she didn’t want to upset Nate.
In the car, she studied the faded photograph again. But all at once the man’s face wasn’t familiar, and it looked nothing like Blaine Cooper, the man in the town of Gilbert who she’d picked up money from last week. The man who had threatened to send someone to “take care” of her if she tried to shake him down for more cash. How had she thought it looked anything like him? Probably because she’d
wanted
to see his face or someone else who absolutely could not be connected to her. While the contents of his folder had already faded in with the dozens of others she’d studied over the years, she would have remembered if the details had matched hers. If he’d been the birth father of Sherry’s baby’s, Makay would for sure have no blood connection to Harrison’s family.
She looked away from the photograph and back again. No, this blurry face could be anyone.
Great.
The disappointment made her want to give it all up and run away so fast and far that no one would ever find her or Nate. Harrison was worth fighting for, but more and more it was looking like there was no possibility of having him.
In a depressed silence, she drove to Brette’s house in the west part of Phoenix. The neighborhood was filled with old houses, four of which could probably fit inside Harrison’s parents’ house, but almost every yard was trimmed, the houses well kept, and she could see children playing. She even had to slow down in one part of the subdivision to avoid a game of soccer going on in the street. It made her smile. She’d played soccer in the street when she was a child, usually the last one to head home. Maybe she’d even laughed like those little girls in the park in Gilbert.
The burden on Makay’s chest lightened. Her stepmother had rented a house several blocks over before her death, but this area had a better feel to it. “Here we are,” she said as she pulled up at a small, one-story house covered with brown stucco that looked almost pink in the light from the clouds covering the sun. The front yard was all decorative rock, relieved by a few trees, and in the center was a birdhouse attached to a log. Wood fencing obscured most of the backyard, but Makay caught a glimpse of green there and hoped for grass.
“Cool!” Nate was out of the car in an instant, trying to look into the birdhouse that was way too high for him. Makay lifted him up to peer inside.