A Mother's Lie

by Sarah Zettel

  Sorry, Mom. Beth lifted her hand and tentatively touched the bruise. Jeannie winced. So did Dana. This is as far into my home as you get.

  Jeannie raised her Juul to her mouth but did not take the hit. She just ran the corner of it along her chin, slow and thoughtful. Her eyes traveled up and down, taking in Beth’s posture, her gaze, the color in her cheeks, the light in her eyes. She was looking for the tells, searching for the cracks and the fear.

  Beth let her look.

  It was too much for Dana. “But she can stay tonight,” she prompted.

  “Dana…” Beth began.

  “Mom! She just got here! You can’t! I want to…at least let me make dinner!”

  “Dana.” Jeannie spoke her name hard enough that Dana stopped, startled. “It’s okay,” she went on, more gently now. “Your mom’s right. It’s better if I go.”

  “Mom?” breathed Dana.

  She could not let Jeannie sink back into the role of tragic victim being abandoned by her hard-hearted daughter. Beth hesitated, searching desperately for a reason that would work quickly and found none.

  Instead, she stood up and made her voice turn brusque. “All right. It’s probably for the best anyway. We’ll need tonight to get things in motion. So. I’m going to call security and let them know about Todd. Dana, how about you get going on that dinner?”

  “Um, sure, yeah.” Dana slid off the chair arm. “Do you have any allergies, Jeannie? Are you vegetarian or anything?”

  “No.” Jeannie’s smile was tolerant and might even have been real. “Nothing like that.”

  “Great. Because we’ve got, like, this whole ton of bacon.”

  “I love bacon.”

  Dana grinned and followed Beth into the kitchen. Beth put her hand on the landline but paused.

  “So what were you and Chelsea talking about downstairs?”

  “Oh.” Dana pulled the fridge door open and ducked her head and shoulders inside, very obviously trying to hide. “Um, nothing…”

  The phone rang under Beth’s hand. She frowned and picked up.

  “Fraser residence,” she said.

  “Beth? Are you okay?” It was Rafael, his voice filled with deliberate calm. “You got some bad video going on the internet.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Apparently there’s this video up on YouTube of you and…” Rafael paused. Computer keys clicked. “Are those your parents?”

  “Yes.” Beth retreated through the living room and out the balcony doors. The signal from the wireless handset would just about reach, and the traffic noise would help cover her voice. She did not want Jeannie or Dana hearing this. She should go into her study. But she couldn’t make herself let Dana entirely out of her sight.

  “Christ, Beth, why didn’t you tell me they were back?” Rafael knew more about Beth’s parents than anyone else. That had not been entirely her choice. There had been times back in their teenage years when she needed his help, and Rafael did not help anyone without knowing exactly what he was getting into.

  “There was no time,” she told him. Which was mostly true. “I just found out last night and then…this happened and…well, my mother is here now. She says she’s sick and she wants to leave my father.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  Beth could smell bacon and toast. Back inside the apartment, Jeannie had moved over to the breakfast bar and perched on one of the stools. Dana sliced a hunk of cheese off the brick she was grating and held it out.

  “You need to eat,” she said.

  “I think that’s supposed to be me who says that.” Jeannie took the cheese and nibbled.

  “Role reversal,” Dana said solemnly. “All the cool kids are doing it.”

  “Beth, you there?” said Rafael into her ear.

  “Yes. I’m here.”

  “I asked, Do you believe her? Your mother?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Is Dana okay?”

  “Mostly. I think so. I…” Beth clenched her fingers around the balcony rail. “Rafi, there’s something else you need to know. Doug came to see me today too.”

  “It never rains, but it pours. What did he want?”

  “He’s made a stupid investment in some kind of vaporware, and…he promised them that he could get Lumination interested.”

  Rafi muttered a few well-honed Spanish curses. “I knew I never liked that guy.”

  “I’m going to need time to clear all this shit out.”

  “Yeah. I can see that. Do you think Zoe’s ready to fill in for you?”

  “She’ll be amazing,” Beth answered immediately.

  “Okay. I’m going to have to get with the emergency communications team about this video and find out about Doug. I want us to have a strategy ready in case this thing blows up. What’s the name of Doug’s guys?”

  She told him.

  “Okay. I’ll have our people see if we can find out who’s behind this one. Be a good job for Zoe, actually.”

  “Thank you. I’m…I’m sorry, Rafi.”

  “This is not your fault. You just take care of you and Dana.”

  “I will.”

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m going to have to be.”

  Beth hung up. From where she stood, she could see her mother’s profile. She watched Jeannie’s hands playing restlessly with the Juul, watched her eyes dart here and there to take in the details of the apartment—that is, when she wasn’t staring at Dana like she wanted to swallow her whole.

  Beth hit the speed dial for building security.

  Fortunately, Mr. Verdes was still in his office. He listened to Beth’s description of her father and of the danger he represented. She heard the keys clicking and the pencil scratching as he made his lists and notes. There would be an alert issued. He recommended she change her security code. He would issue new swipe cards to her and Dana, just in case. Someone would be bringing those up in just a few minutes.

  Was there anything else he could do?

  Unfortunately, there was not. Beth thanked him and hung up the phone. She went to the door and worked the keys on the alarm, deleting the old PIN and setting the new one.

  You’re locked in here with me.

  “Dinner!” Dana called out behind her. Beth inhaled the rich scents of bacon, butter, and cheese and tried to feel something other than sick.

  Then, she bent her mouth into a smile and went to the table.

  Dinner was exhausting.

  Dana went all in on the comfort food: grilled bacon, cheese, and tomato sandwiches with spiced sweet potato wedges she’d pulled out of the freezer. There was salad on the side so they could pretend they were being a little healthy, at least until they dug into the ice cream with caramel sauce for dessert.

  Jeannie was absolutely in her element. She cracked wry little jokes and asked comfortable questions to draw Dana out. It all began as soon as the exclamations over how fantastic the food looked ended.

  “So, tell me about you,” Jeannie said around a bite of sandwich.

  “Nothing to tell.”

  “Come on—humor me. We’ve got fifteen years to catch up on. Tell me…oh, I don’t know. You got a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? That one you were with at the coffee shop—she was cute, you know, in a tough-girl kinda way.”

  Dana laughed. “Listen to you, being all inclusive.”

  “Never too late to learn, right? So, come on—spill the tea.”

  So Dana talked. It started with the usual bare outline she trotted out for nosey grown-ups—how she wanted to be a chef, she was in the business program at school, and she had an internship lined up for the summer at the Vine and Horn. But under Jeannie’s careful encouragement, Dana picked up steam until it was like she couldn’t stop. She talked about Chelsea and her dysfunctional family, and all about school and what she hated and what she loved, and how boys were all pathetic and she really wanted to open her own restaurant one day, just like Gabrielle Hamilton did with Prune in New York,
and how she was going to have her own Netflix show and travel around the world and eat and cook and see everything and…and…and…and…

  …and Jeannie listened. She ate too—huge bites of sandwich halves and salad and sweet potato. But before each smiling bite, Jeannie steeled herself, just a little, like she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to get this hot, rich food to stay down.

  Dana didn’t notice, but Beth did, even though she didn’t want to. She did not want to have to entertain the possibility that Jeannie might really be sick. She wanted this woman strong and whole and playing all her old games (because she is). She did not want to have to challenge any old assumptions (not assumptions, facts).

  Beth thought about the “go-bag” she kept underneath her bed. She thought about the car keys she kept in the kitchen junk drawer along with the paper clips, Scotch tape, and the old ball of kite string. She imagined waiting until her mother went to sleep. She would go to the private garage and reclaim the little Honda Fit she kept there, registered under a name that was not hers. She’d bring the fake IDs and birth certificates and cash she kept in her safe-deposit box. She’d wake Dana up, and they’d both just drive away. They could go to New York, or Dallas, or L.A. Disappear into the urban maze and start over.

  Or, she could give bag, car, cash, and IDs to Jeannie and tell her to leave, now, before Beth went to the police.

  In the morning, Beth could tell Dana her grandmother vanished. She would be able to honestly say she had no idea where Jeannie had gone, or if she’d ever be back. Dana would grieve, but she’d heal. Eventually.

  Sometimes you had to hurt children to do what was best for them.

  Finally, everybody had scooped the last dollop of caramel sauce out of their bowls and drained at least one mug of their preferred hot beverage. Beth started piling up the dishes to take to the sink.

  “Lemme get this,” said Jeannie.

  “Nope. You’re the guest.”

  “At least let me help.”

  Beth put the plates down and faced her. “You know what? You must be exhausted. How about I show you the guest room? There are spare pajamas and stuff.”

  Jeannie opened her mouth but saw the light in Beth’s eyes and changed her mind.

  “Thanks. I am kind of worn out.”

  Beth took her into the guest room. It was as colorful as the rest of the apartment and stocked with books and quilts and throws.

  “Bathroom’s through there,” Beth said as she breezed over to the dresser and opened the middle drawer. “Pajamas and robe, here. I’m pretty sure there’s a toothbrush.” She went into the bathroom and pulled open the top drawer of the vanity. “Yep. Here we go.”

  Mostly, Beth kept the room ready in case Chelsea needed a place to stay on short notice, but there had been other people who’d needed it—friends fleeing bad relationships or needing a place to crash because a gig fell through. She’d never once imagined she’d be sheltering her mother here.

  Beth handed her the toothbrush. She also took a moment to make sure Jeannie was looking right at her.

  “You’ll probably want to go straight to bed.”

  “Yeah, I probably will.” No one could accuse Jeannie Bowen of being slow on the uptake. “I’m really tired.”

  “Sleep tight.”

  “You too.”

  Beth left her there. She closed the door and turned, and almost ran into Dana, standing in the hall and fidgeting.

  Dana took a deep breath. Clearly, she’d been getting a speech ready, and she was going to get it out. Beth touched her hand to interrupt her and led her back into the front room.

  “Okay.” Beth faced her daughter. “Now.”

  Dana took another deep breath.

  “Mom, I know this is hard for you. I know…I know there’s all kinds of bad stuff between you. I do. I listened when you told me. Every time. And I do know, really, that she might…leave or go back to him or, you know, something shitty like that. But at least we can say we tried, right? And at least I, you know, got to meet her.”

  All Beth’s words evaporated. All she could do was raise her arms, just a fraction of an inch. It was enough. Dana fell forward and Beth caught her.

  “I love you,” Beth whispered in her daughter’s ear. “No matter what happens next, no matter what anyone tells you. I will always, always love you.”

  They stood like that, leaning together, holding onto each other tightly, not speaking, just feeling the strength and the nearness of each other.

  For that one moment, that was enough too.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Beth and Dana stayed beside each other the rest of the evening, mostly sharing the couch, mostly with Dana on her phone and Beth on her laptop. Dana had to fill Kimi in on why she wasn’t at the year-end party, then talk to just about everybody who was there (or so it seemed). Beth had to start contacting women’s shelters and lawyers.

  It was almost eleven when Dana finally kissed her cheek.

  “Love you too, Mom,” she said. “No matter what.”

  Beth looked at her daughter, and she said it, the one universal lie every parent told. “Everything’s going to be okay, Dangerface. I promise.”

  As soon as Dana retreated to her room, Beth closed her laptop. She thought about how her life had grown so tangled with people and relationships, and how all that might have to come undone now.

  She felt sick. She tried to ignore it.

  She didn’t even consider going to bed. It would have been pointless. She was not going to sleep. Instead, she went to her study and fired up her laptop again. There were accounts that had to be checked into, money that had to be ready to go, in case the worst happened.

  It was almost midnight when Beth lit up her cell and called Zoe. Zoe picked up anyway.

  “I wondered when you were going to get around to calling.”

  “Yeah, I was wondering about that too,” Beth admitted.

  “So.” Cloth rustled. Beth pictured Zoe settling back for a long story. “What the hell was that video?”

  “Goddamn YouTube,” muttered Beth. “And ‘that’ was my dysfunctional family out in public.”

  There was a clicking noise, probably Zoe’s fingernails drumming against a tabletop. “Well. Now I guess I know why you never talk about them. Does Rafael know about this?”

  “Yeah, and he’s going to be talking to you about that, and…some other stuff. Zoe, I’m going to be gone for a while. I need…I need you to watch Lumination for me.”

  “Watch how?”

  “Do the real job. Keep them from stepping in the shit, whether they want to hear you or not. Make sure…make sure there’s something for me to come back to.” If I’m coming back.

  “Beth, what’s going on? This isn’t just some family BS.”

  “That’s exactly what it is,” she answered. “And that’s why it’s this bad.”

  Zoe was silent for a long time. “Okay,” she said. “Thanks for the heads-up.” Zoe was not happy, but she understood you had to know the worst up front so you could figure the angles. If you waited, you’d get caught under the landslide. That was why Beth called her.

  “And there’s something else.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “I need your…special computer friends to get a look at my ex’s bank accounts.”

  Beth had never told Rafi exactly why she wanted Zoe on her team so badly. It was because she recognized the look in Zoe’s eyes. She was someone trying to claw out of the hole they’d been pounded into. She would not ever let appearances blind her. No pretty story would sway her when it wasn’t backed by hard numbers and plenty of verifiable cash.

  But she also knew about Zoe’s connections in the “black hat” software community and maybe a few stories that Zoe herself hadn’t gotten around to telling Rafi yet. That was okay. Everybody benefited from keeping a few secrets.

  Maybe. Sometimes.

  “I’d do it myself, but it’s…super time critical, and I’ve got the distinct feeli
ng he’s doing something really, really stupid.”

  “That’s nothing new from what you’ve said about him.”

  “Yeah, but this time, he wants me to bail him out. Me and Lumination.”

  “Ah. Okay. I think I know who to ask.”

  Beth gave her what details she had. “Be sure to kill your exes when you’re done with them,” she added.

  “Why do you think there’s a dirt floor in my basement?”

  Beth felt a smile flicker across her face. “I am sorry about all this, Zoe. So, thank you for everything, and no matter what, you are going to be a rock star.” She paused, very aware that what she was about to say amounted to good-bye. “Take care of Excelsior for me.”

  “Take care of yourself, Beth.”

  “Do my best.”

  They said good-bye and hung up. Beth planted her elbows on her desk and leaned her forehead on her hands. She hated bringing Zoe into this, but if something was going on—beyond Doug being an idiot and some random pyramid scheme floggers sensing an opportunity—she didn’t want Zoe blindsided.

  She told herself fixing up all her loose ends wasn’t betraying Rafi. This was watching out for him. Which was exactly why he’d hired her in the first place.

  When Rafi left Indiana, Beth never thought she’d see him again, and for four years she was right. Beth got her degree and a pile of student debt from the community college and was trying to figure out what in the hell she was actually going to do next, because it was turning out every even semidecent job required a background check.

  Star Bowen had become Elizabeth Fraser by then, and Beth Fraser had no background, at least not one she could let anybody actually see.

  Then, out of the blue, Rafi called.

  Get your ass out here, Beth.

  Where are you, even?

  Silicon Valley, sister, and you an’ me—we’re gonna take this place over.

  She didn’t believe him, but she didn’t have any other plans. Plus, he paid for the plane ticket. He met her at the airport with a rental car, and he took her straight to a good diner and told her to order anything she wanted.