by Lea Coll
Tanner: How are you?
Better if you were here. Sadie: Hanging in there.
Tanner: I want to see you tonight. Do you have to teach?
Sadie: No, Kristen canceled classes tonight.
Tanner: Perfect. Come by for dinner?
Sadie: After Rylan goes to bed?
Tanner: No, 6 PM?
I chewed my lip. He wanted me to come to dinner with Rylan? That must mean he still felt the same. Otherwise, he’d wait until she was asleep to tell me we couldn’t be together anymore.
Sadie: Do you need me to bring anything?
Tanner: How about dessert?
Sadie: I can do that.
I loved being part of his life with Rylan. I loved being part of small everyday things like dinner and bedtime. I told Tanner every dark and dirty shameful piece in my past and he still loved me. Wait. What? He didn’t love me. A chill ran through me. Why had I jumped to that conclusion? Was it the way he held me while I cried last night? How tightly he held me in his arms all night while I slept? Was I confusing care and concern for love?
I didn’t love him, did I? No, we’d only been together for a few weeks and just because I trusted him enough to tell him everything didn’t mean I loved him even if the thought of seeing him tonight sent butterflies through my stomach. The thought of never seeing him after our talk last night sent panic through my body. But the idea of loving him—of being with him forever took root and spread through my body like wildfire.
We got off work two hours early, so I walked from the courthouse to the bakery and hoped to snag a dessert before Samantha closed the Sweet Treat’s doors. I opened the door to find it busy with customers buying pies. I examined the bakery case filled with cookies, cupcakes, and pies.
I debated over what Rylan wanted. We’d have pie tomorrow at dinner, so maybe cupcakes? Or I could get cookies and cupcakes.
“I can’t believe you’d show yourself in town after that article.” The harsh voice came from behind me. I straightened, thinking the comment was for someone else, but Annabelle’s mother, Robin, stood there. She looked so much older than the last time I’d seen her around the time of the trial. Her face carried more wrinkles and her eyes were angry, not sad like they were when everything was fresh. Her hands clenched into fists, her face was red, and her hard eyes were on me.
“I’m sorry?” I tensed, thinking I should have walked out of the store to avoid her, not engage her more.
“If you’d have talked to the police back then, Dennis would have been convicted of sexual assault, and he’d still be in prison. Annabelle might still be alive.” Her voice broke on the last sentence.
She’d gotten to the core of my guilt with her words. I’d always suspected Annabelle’s death came back to me, but to have it said out loud by her mother broke the tenuous progress I’d made last night in telling Tanner. “I’m so sorry about Annabelle. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“You should be. It’s your fault.” Her voice rose higher—and I felt the stares of the other patrons.
I was stuck in one spot—unable to leave—to escape her words. Some small part of me thought I deserved to stand here and listen to what she had to say because Annabelle couldn’t speak for herself.
“Ms. Bray, you’re going to have to leave. You’re disturbing the customers.” Samantha came around the counter.
“Me, what about her? I shouldn’t have to see her face when I can’t see my daughter’s face anymore.”
I drew in a sharp breath, a stabbing pain shot through my chest. “I’ll leave. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
“No, Sadie you can stay,” Samantha said forcefully and looked pointedly at the box she held in her hand. “Ms. Bray, you have the pie you ordered. Sadie hasn’t picked up hers yet.”
“This is ridiculous. See if I come in here again.” Her voice shook, spit flew out of her mouth, and I could feel the other customers’ eyes on us.
My face heated when I glanced at the people in the store—a few glanced away, clearly uncomfortable with the outburst, but there were a few whose eyes burned with anger, like they blamed me too.
Samantha followed her out. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I can’t have people yelling in my store. It’s not good for business.”
Their voices trailed off but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t focus on anything around me. My whole body trembled, and tears formed in my eyes.
I felt Samantha’s hand on my arm. “Are you okay? Do you want to sit?”
I shook my head, trying to clear it. “No, I’m fine. I’m going to go. I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, it’s not your fault. What did you need? I’ll wrap it up for you if you want to sit down.”
I tried to focus my eyes on the display case. “I have to get something for Rylan. Tanner’s daughter, I’m just not sure what she’d like.”
“I know what Rylan loves.” Samantha guided me to a table and pulled out the chair for me to sit. “Have a seat. I’ll get that for you.”
I nodded in thanks, unable to speak. I could still feel the stares. When would it stop? The fact was, it wouldn’t—not while Annabelle’s mom still lived here. I’d never escape accusations or the cloud of that night. I wanted to flee. I wanted to pack up my stuff and leave.
I scrolled through my phone to ignore the curious stares, but the whispered conversations still reached my ears.
“It’s a shame what happened to that girl.”
“Do you think she’s really to blame?”
I stood, ready to escape the awful words, when Samantha appeared in front of me, handing me a box.
“What do I owe you?”
“Nothing, just have a happy Thanksgiving and take care of yourself, okay?”
“Thank you. I hope you have a good Thanksgiving too.” My voice was barely audible. I just wanted out of the bakery—away from the stares.
I walked to my apartment, intent on getting there before running into anyone else. Once my apartment door was shut behind me, I slid to the floor, the tears I’d held back streaming down my face. I placed the bakery box on the floor. I’d never have a life here. Whatever I thought I had with Tanner wasn’t a possibility. How could I subject Rylan to what just happened?
I picked up my phone to type a message to Tanner canceling tonight, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t cancel on him. Maybe I could talk to him after dinner—explain how I wasn’t good for him or Rylan. He had to understand. He had to agree. It was clear I was no good for them.
I was so alone. I couldn’t go to my mother—that was never an option. I couldn’t show up at Tanner’s house like this—he was probably working or with Rylan. Who else knew me, and not this shell of a person I’d become? My grandparents.
After Robin’s harsh words, I wanted to know why they’d walked away. Maybe if I broke the silence, I could solve whatever issue there was. I wanted them on my side. If I called, they could hang up. If I showed up on their porch, they could shut the door in my face, but I didn’t think they would. Out of politeness, they’d listen to me, wouldn’t they? Didn’t they still feel something for me? Everyone made mistakes—were mine too big to overcome?
As far as I knew, my grandparents never moved from the home they’d lived in when I was a child. I washed my face, grabbed my jacket, and headed out the door. They lived on the other side of town, but I needed fresh air and exercise to clear my head of Robin’s words.
For the entire walk, I debated whether I should turn around. The closer I got to their house, the slicker my palms became, the more ragged my breathing. My heart raced and it wasn’t from exertion.
I stopped on the sidewalk in front of their small home. I’d spent so much time here as a child—playing on the porch, sitting on the swing with my grandmother, and jumping rope on the sidewalk. I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart.
I had to know the truth. I took a deep breath and walked up the steps, crossed the porch, and knocked lightly on the door. A wooden welcome sign leaned against the s
iding. Would I be welcomed or was this the worst idea I’d ever had?
Finally, I heard some shuffling in the hall and the door opened slowly. I held my breath and dug my nails into my palms, wondering what kind of greeting I’d get. A door slammed in my face? Mean words like Robin’s?
Instead, my grandfather’s familiar face blinked back at me in surprise.
“Sadie?” I observed his face as emotions played out—surprise, regret, and finally settling on hope. His eyes traveled over my body, probably cataloging all the ways I’d changed over the years. I was no longer the skinny girl I’d been in high school. I’d filled out with a dancer’s body and let my hair grow out. I was more confident and mature.
“What a pleasant surprise.” Then be blinked back tears as I moved to hug him—this man who’d been so important to me. I breathed in his familiar scent, which brought back memories of sitting on his lap while he read me a book. Whatever the reason they’d backed off, I hoped they’d forgive me, and we could move forward.
I pulled back so I could see his face, which carried more lines than it once had. “May I come in? I was hoping to talk.”
“Of course.” He patted me once more and stepped back as I closed the door behind me.
“Is Grandma here?”
“She’s in the sunroom. She’ll be—” His voice broke off and he drew in a breath—struggling with emotions which threatened to overcome him. “She’ll be so happy to see you.”
I followed him down the hallway through a small kitchen. It hadn’t changed since the last time I was here baking cookies, and we went out into a small sunroom overlooking the yard.
Grandpa cleared his throat. “Look who’s here.”
I stood uncertainly in the doorway, unsure whether I should enter or sit down. My grandmother sat in an armchair by the window, the light shining over her lap, where she was knitting a blanket.
“Sadie?” Grandma stood, her hands flew to her mouth as her knitting fell to the ground at her feet. “Oh, dear, I can’t believe you’re really here.”
I moved closer. She stood and reached a hand to touch my arm as if to verify I was real. “I’m sorry I didn’t call before I came over.”
“You never have to call, dear. You’re always welcome.” I felt instant relief at her words but was my mom mistaken? Had my grandparents wanted me in their lives? I leaned over to hug her, thinking either she’d shrunk or I’d gotten taller since we’d last been together.
Letting her go, she sat back in her chair and I lifted the knitting back to her lap.
“Have a seat, dear.”
I glanced around the cozy room for the first time—absorbing the stacks of newspapers and books resting on a side table, colorful mismatched chairs, and pictures of me on a narrow table by the door. They hadn’t completely erased me from their lives and maybe they still cared for me.
I stepped closer to see the framed pictures of me baking cookies, watering flowers, and sitting on the porch with Grandma’s arms around me.
I turned from the pictures, unable to wait a minute longer for answers. “I don’t understand. Why did you stop coming to see me?”
My grandparents exchanged a look, charged with so much emotion I couldn’t process it. “I didn’t want to, but I didn’t know what else to do,” Grandma finally said.
“We knew your mother was prone to drinking and we didn’t like that man living with you, but she refused to listen to us. I just had a bad feeling about him,” Grandpa said.
“Dennis Moore?” I felt sick that they’d tried to protect me, but my mom hadn’t listened.
“Yes, the one that assaulted that poor girl.” A pained expression appeared on Grandma’s face.
I looked away, not wanting them to see the truth—that he’d assaulted me too. She didn’t need to know. “But why leave me with Raina?”
“She’d left you in that house alone with him. She knew there was liquor there. We wanted you to live with us, but she refused. She said you were scared we’d take you from her.”
“She told me I’d go into foster care. She never told me you’d invited me to live with you.” Why hadn’t I questioned her more? Because by the time the dust settled, my grandparents were gone. I learned not to depend on people staying in my life for long or trusting them with anything.
“After that conversation, she stopped communicating with us. She wouldn’t let us see or talk to you.” Grandma’s hands twisted in her lap.
“But why did you listen?” A dull headache spread from the top of my head to the base of my skull.
“She told us you didn’t want to see us. That you were petrified we’d take you away from her.”
There was so much pain and uncertainty on her face I believed she’d thought she was doing all she could do. Even if the child in me would never think it was enough.
“But why not come see me later?” I moved closer to her, wanting to reach out to touch her hand, wanting to understand what would make them stay away.
“I wanted to, but by the time we’d decided to approach you, you were gone. You’d left that summer to start school and you only came back recently. I wasn’t sure we’d be welcomed back into your life. I worried too much time had passed.”
There’d been only a couple months between the assault and graduation. It was long enough to live in a town where people thought I was aiding a sex offender. I’d escaped the media circus of the plea hearing and the sentencing, but Annabelle hadn’t. She’d never escaped.
Grandma stood and placed a hand on my cheek. Tears shone in her eyes. “But you’re here now. I’m so happy.”
“I can’t believe my mother kept you from me.” Raina took away the only people in my life who’d ever cared about me. I’d never been angrier at her than I was at this moment.
“She thought she was protecting you, I guess.” Grandma ducked her head and I knew she didn’t approve of my mom—she was being polite, because at the end of the day Raina was my mother.
“Mom said it was just us. Me and her against the world, but it was always her protecting herself.”
“I’m so sorry. Maybe we should have pushed somehow,” Grandpa said from the couch. I turned and sat down next to him.
“No, if my mom made her mind up about something, there was no way to change it. It’s just that I have so many good memories of your house, of spending time here. And then when you were gone, I thought it was something I did. That you were ashamed of me. That you blamed me for what happened with Dennis.”
“Oh, no. That man did that all himself. You were just a child.”
“You’re shaking. Did something happen?” Grandpa reached over to cover my trembling hands with his.
“Annabelle’s mother came into the bakery today and confronted me. She said I’m the reason Annabelle’s dead.” The horror of that moment overshadowed the guilt I felt over the situation.
Grandma sat in her chair. “Well, that’s a lie. No one made that girl do anything.”
“It’s Dennis Moore’s fault, if anything.” My grandfather’s harsh voice rang out in the room.
“You believe that?” I asked them.
“Have you been blaming yourself this whole time?” Grandpa’s voice rose.
“This town, Robin, and the police blamed me. It’s why I left. I only came back after law school because Mom—no, Raina asked me to help her.” Now that I understood the depth of her selfishness and betrayal, I couldn’t call her Mom. Not anymore. She’d always be Raina to me now.
“I heard you moved back in with her when you came back,” Grandma said.
“I did, but I just moved out.”
Grandpa removed his hand from mine.
My hands were still trembling but not as badly as when I’d arrived. This visit—hearing my grandparents and drawing comfort and love from them and this house helped just like I hoped it would. And now I had answers to the questions I’d been asking for ten years. I was exhausted from the emotional turmoil—first Robin’s accusation and then talking to m
y grandparents.
“Good for you,” Grandpa said.
They’d suspected she was an alcoholic for a long time, so I told them the truth. “She’s drinking and it’s affecting her health. I went to a few Al-Anon meetings and they said to distance myself from her so she can—”
“Feel the consequences of her actions. It’s about time,” Grandma said.
“Yes, I came home thinking I could pay her bills and fix her life, but that allowed her to continue drinking.” I shook my head.
“It’s time you live your own life,” Grandma said.
“So, I guess that’s why I’m here. She told me over the years that you blamed me for what happened and I believed her.”
“I’m sorry she lied to you, but we should have tried harder to reach out to you,” Grandma said.
“All that matters is that you’re here.” Grandpa placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“We know you work at the courthouse, but I’d love to hear more,” Grandma said.
Happiness coursed through me that they wanted to know more about my life. “I work at the public defender’s office and I teach dance classes in the evening. My apartment is above the dance studio, so it’s convenient to everything.”
“Do you plan on staying in town?” Grandma asked.
“That’s the question. If my mom didn’t need me, I wouldn’t have returned. And with that article in the paper, I wonder if I should leave and start over somewhere else.” I’d need to save up some money and get a new job somewhere else. How could I explain that I’d met someone who was the only one who could convince me to stay?
“Are you dating someone?” Grandpa took a seat in the chair next to me.
The comfort I felt talking to them hadn’t changed since I was a child. “I am but I’m no good for him. Look at all this baggage I’m carrying around, and he has a child. I’m sure he doesn’t want her exposed to people accusing me of killing their child.”
“Well, I would hope no one would say that around a child, but why don’t you let him decide if it’s too much and not do the deciding for him,” Grandpa said.