by Misa Rush
“Seriously?” Hanna’s eyes popped wide open in disbelief. “That’s almost scary how easy it was for you to get in.”
“I know. And it’s not almost scary, it is scary.” Karsen sat back against her chair. She was staring into her mother’s private e-mail. The sudden urge to curl back into bed and shut out the world fled through her, realizing the life her mother left behind.
“You okay, K?”
“Yeah, sorry.” She fought to hold back the tears ready to pour out like rain from her eyes. She focused on the screen. There were 271 messages in her mother’s inbox.
“Holy crap. Over two hundred messages?” Hanna gasped.
Karsen scanned down the first page. “It looks like most of the messages are just spam. She probably didn’t know how to set it up to filter.”
Karsen clicked checks in the boxes to the left of any item that looked illegitimate. Coupons from several stores marketing online, numerous work-from-home offers, and a few offers for enlarging her penis.
“Got to love spam.” Karsen shook her head and hit delete.
There were fifteen messages left that appeared valid. Karsen felt like she was snooping behind her mother’s back. She didn’t want to intentionally invade her mom’s privacy. One e-mail had been from her. She grimaced realizing her mother never received it. All the little monotonies of daily life, her mom would never do again. Just like that. One moment here, the next gone. Like most young adults, Karsen had an unintentional invincibility complex. That, yes, death occurs but later in life. Not while you are still making plans. Her mother’s death had made her contemplate her own mortality and that scared her. Not so much the fear of dying, but on missing out on the future.
She scanned down the subject lines. There were two messages from her father and a few from Brad. Additionally, Karsen noted three jokes and two apparent ‘real’ messages forwarded from the same e-mail address: [email protected]. The subject line of the first message read “Photos from the Bahamas.” Karsen clicked and the message popped opened.
Hi Kat.
I hope things are well with you. Thought I’d forward you a few photos from the cruise. It was so much fun. We even drank a few margaritas in your honor. I wish you could have joined us. How are the kids?
Love,
Meg
“That’s her,” confirmed Karsen, as Hanna read over her shoulder.
Karsen opened the first photo. A slightly overweight woman in her late fifties was dressed in a conservative black one-piece swimsuit covered by a black sarong with tropical blue flowers. The view in the background was so perfect Karsen pictured the image being artificially enhanced like they are in magazines. The water glistened a pure crystal blue with the sunset a perfect orange hue.
She closed the message and opened the next. The subject line read “HHEEELLLOOO?”
Hi Kat.
I’m sure you’re busy, as usual, but I haven’t heard from you in over six weeks. Where are you? Is everything okay?
Write soon,
Meg
The weight hit Karsen like a brick. Her fears were confirmed. Meg didn’t know. She thought about how hurt she’d felt when she’d been told the news. She knew Meg would be crushed. Her mom and Meg had been friends for decades. She turned to Hanna, feeling a sudden pang of fear. The idea had seemed novel, but it hadn’t occurred to her that they’d actually be able to hack in, or that they’d actually have to contact her mom’s friend and break her heart.
“What do I do?” Karsen looked helplessly at Hanna. Her stomach began to churn.
“I don’t know. Do you know her phone number? Or even her last name?”
“Crawford. I feel bad calling her. It’s been months. Shit. Shit. Shit.” She fidgeted with the mouse. “Do you think I should really call her?”
Hanna looked at her confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean hacking into e-mail is illegal. What if I get in trouble?”
“You’re not going to get in trouble. I think you’re being paranoid. You have to call her, K. It’s only your mom’s email. Who’s going to care and if anything happens, I’ll take the blame,” offered Hanna.
Karsen sat up and curled her leg underneath her in the chair. “Really?”
“Of course. I’m sure Meg would rather hear the news from you, and you need answers. If they’re out there, then we need to try to find them.”
Karsen nodded. She’d never let Hanna take any blame, but she also knew she needed to find the truth. She opened a new window in the browser. Typing www.yellowpages.com, she did a search for Margaret Crawford in New York. One record appeared. Taking a deep breath, she nervously dialed the phone.
“We’re sorry. You’ve reached a number that is no longer in service.”
“Figures,” she said annoyed, slumping into her chair. “Everyone’s number is unlisted nowadays.”
Hanna hugged her from behind. Karsen reached up, grabbed her arms, which were crisscrossed in front of her and held them while she decided her next move. After a few moments she straightened up, returned to Meg’s last message and hit reply.
Meg,
I need to talk to you and I have a new cell number. Can you please call me at 480-555-3632.
Hope you are well.
K
Her finger floated hesitantly over the “Send” key.
“She’s going to know this isn’t my mom,” Karsen muttered miserably.
“Maybe. But, you can’t e-mail her that her best friend died. What if …” Hanna stopped herself mid-sentence. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
“What if…?”
“What if something happened to one of us? Would you want to find out I died via e-mail?”
Karsen inhaled then blew out a long breath, puffing out her cheeks. She felt utterly disheartened. “Why do you always have to be right?” She clicked send.
“What do we do now?” Hanna asked.
Karsen folded her hands into a prayer position and pressed them against her lips.
“We wait.”
The pink-jeweled Blackberry vibrated against the wood of the bedside table. Karsen looked at the clock. It was just past seven o’clock. Her textbook displayed a small wet spot where she had drooled. Yuck, she thought, realizing the last time she looked it was around six-thirty. She had opened her chemistry manual right after Hanna left. Trying to study seemed to be the only thing that cured her insomnia lately. She was starting to believe the semester was a lost cause.
She hurried to reach the phone before the call went to voice-mail. She hit the button to answer, but her half-asleep hand tingled and she clumsily dropped the phone onto the floor. She stretched her arm down, fumbling for the phone and bringing it back up to her ear. “Hello?”
“Oh, hi. I’m sorry to bother you. I must have the wrong number.” The voice on the other end sounded unsure.
“Wait,” Karsen said. “Who is this?” She settled her tone.
“Meg Crawford. I thought I was calling Katherine Woods. I must have misdialed. Sorry again to have bothered you.”
“No, wait, wait…Don’t hang up.” An urgency rose in Karsen’s voice.
“Who is this then?” Meg asked, flustered.
“I’m Karsen.”
“Katherine’s Karsen?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. It was me that sent the e-mail.” Karsen didn’t know quite what to say.
“Oh.” Meg had thought it odd that the letter was signed K. Katherine usually signed off Kat. Confused as to why her daughter had asked her to call, she asked, “Is your mother there? Is everything okay?”
“I didn’t want to… I just couldn’t tell you over e-mail.”
Meg’s concern escalated. “Tell me what, dear? What’s going on?”
Karsen trembled. All the feelings she felt when her father called her flooded back to her memory. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “I really don’t know the right way to tell you this.”
“Karsen, what is it? What’s wrong, dear?”
“Meg, my mom died in early January.” She choked out the words. “It was unexpected and somehow you got overlooked when the funeral arrangements were being made. I’m so, so sorry.”
Karsen overheard a gasp in the background followed by a loud sob.
After a long silence, Karsen wondered if the line had been dropped. “Meg?”
“I’m sorry.” Meg’s voice cracked. “What? How? Oh, Lord no!” Meg’s muffled voice pleaded for information.
“There was a car accident and … I’m so sorry to be the one telling you this,” Karsen spoke as tears streamed down her face like she had just heard the news herself. “She spoke of you so fondly, and I thought we’d contacted everyone until today. I thought my dad had contacted you. Maybe he thought Brad or I did. I don’t know how we missed you. I’m so sorry.”
Meg’s voice wavered. “I understand. It’s not your fault. I just can’t believe it. I mean… I knew it was unlike her not to e-mail. I had tried calling her cell, too, but I just figured she was busy and I’ve been traveling a lot lately. Oh, I just can’t believe it.”
“I’m sorry.” Karsen apologized again that no one had contacted her earlier as she struggled to explain about the accident and funeral in more detail.
“How horrible! Oh, Kat…no, no, no…” Meg whispered in disbelief.
“The police said the accident probably happened so fast she didn’t realize...” Karsen couldn’t form the words. “I try to believe that. I have to believe that. I can’t stand the thought of her being in pain.”
“Oh, Kat!” Meg repeated.
Karsen and Meg sat silently, both crying on their end of the phone. Several minutes passed before Karsen spoke again. She knew the timing couldn’t be worse, but she also needed answers and knew she might not have another chance to ask.
“Meg, I hate to ask you this under the circumstances. But you knew my mom in high school, right? I mean before my dad, before us kids?”
“Yes. Your mom and I had been friends since we were kids.”
“Do you know if she had a boyfriend back then?”
“She had several.” Meg let out a slight giggle through her sadness thinking back to their early high school days. “Why?”
“Anyone serious?”
Meg hesitated. Had Kat told her daughter? Meg had sworn not to tell anyone Kat’s secret. She certainly couldn’t betray her now. “Not really. Why, sweetheart?”
“Well, you knew about her necklace, right?”
“Of course. She hardly ever took it off.”
“Well, this might sound crazy, but I have reason to believe there might be another piece out there. A piece that she never told the family about. She wouldn’t have told you anything about it, would she have?”
“No, I’m sorry, but it’s not ringing a bell,” Meg stammered slowly.
“It was just that the jeweler who made them thought it might have been for a boyfriend.”
“Oh,” Meg paused. “Huh. I’m sorry, honey, nobody specific is coming to mind. I’ll let you know, though, if I think of anything, okay?” She sniffled.
“Thanks,” Karsen said, the frustration of another dead end rising up through her again. She knew it wasn’t Meg’s fault. Who could expect her to remember her mother’s boyfriend from forty years ago?
“Meg?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry again about the funeral. My mom would have wanted you there.”
Russell and Addison made their goodbyes as they left her parents’ house. Her mother whispered, “He’s a keeper,” in her ear as she hugged her.
When they arrived at Addy’s loft, Russell barely allowed her through the door before whisking her passionately into his arms. He pressed her body between his and the wall. Watching her with her family had escalated his attraction. He now knew he wanted the whole package, for better, for worse. He knew she was what he had been waiting for. She exhibited a down-to-earth sincerity that most women who grew up in affluent households lacked. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was exactly or why, but it spoke to him of humility.
He lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed his neck as he carried her to bed. He laid her on the bed, kissing her first on her lips and then her neck, moaning softly as he inhaled her scent. She ran her fingers through his hair. He drew back and gazed at her face.
“I’ve fallen in love with you,” he whispered.
Addison stared back, the words resonating within her head. Her heart and her head were torn in separate directions. She wanted to respond. She wanted to say, “I love you, too.” Instead, she placed her hands on the sides of his face and kissed him firmly, avoiding a response. Those words, so powerful, frightened her. Her own biological mother gave her away. The only man she allowed to get close to her broke her heart. How easy it would be for Russell to leave her, too. She was not worthy of accepting his love no matter how much she yearned for it. She wouldn’t say those words back to him, even though her heart wanted to.
“Wake up, sleepy head.”
Russell kissed Addison’s forehead and placed a breakfast tray over her lap. The arrangement looked as though it were delivered from a personal chef. She inhaled the warm, sweet scent of syrup.
“Hope you like French toast,” he said, easing back into bed beside her.
“It looks delicious. Thank you.” She felt rejuvenated from a full night’s sleep. She could not remember the last time she’d woken up without an alarm.
He scooped a dollop of whipped cream onto his finger and placed it in her mouth. She seductively obliged, sucking the sweetness between her lips. The feeling excited him.
She wished she could erase the words from being said. Those three little words changed things. She couldn’t allow herself to be vulnerable. To do so opened her up for more hurt than she was willing to endure.
“Addison.” Russell lifted her chin toward him. “I meant what I said last night. I love you.”
“Russell, don’t. Please.” She felt her emotional walls going up.
“Don’t what? Tell you how I feel?”
“Yes, don’t,” she pleaded.
“Why not? I know it may seem fast, but we’re adults, not teenagers. I know what I want.”
“You may think you do, but…”
“But what, Addison? All you have to do is let me in. I can’t read your mind.”
“I can’t do this,” she said, setting the tray aside and climbing out of bed. She grabbed her robe.
“Addison.” He crossed the room, catching her hand and turning her toward him. “I won’t let you push me away.”
“Russell, you don’t want me.” She tugged at her arm, but he wouldn’t let go. “I can’t do this.”
“Why not?” He stepped closer, peering down into her eyes.
Her answer was silence.
“Why not?” he demanded again. “You can’t tell me last night wasn’t… incredible. Why are you doing this?”
“I…,” she looked him in the eyes. “I don’t love you.”
She spoke purely out of desperation. Of course it wasn’t true. She hated hurting him. She hated hurting herself, but reasoned it was better for it to happen now, on her terms.
“I don’t believe that. I see it in your eyes. I feel it when we’re together.” He released her and she stepped back.
“Don’t do this, Russell.”
“Don’t do what? Tell you that I love you? Fight for us?”
“I think you should go.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. She tucked her hands under her arms so he couldn’t see them tremble.
“Whatever hurt you in the past, whatever makes you feel that you are unworthy, you have to let it go.”
“WHAT?” Her head snapped to attention. “What did you just say?”
“You can’t allow your past to dictate decisions in your future. Eventually, you are going to have to stop shutting people out. Or, you will end up alone.”
“What the hell do you know
about MY past?” she steamed.
“Nothing. Forget it.”
“What do you know, Russell?” she pressed angrily.
For better or worse, he had her attention. He hesitated reluctantly, not wanting to throw Emily under the bus. “Emily just said that there was something in your past…”
“What else did Emily say?” Addison interrupted, feeling betrayed.
“Nothing. She didn’t tell me anything specific.”
“What did she say, Russell?”
“Nothing. I came to my own conclusions. Can we just let it go, Addison?” He grabbed her hand again. “Please, just let me in.”
“I think you need to go.” He resisted and attempted to pull her into him. She closed her eyes and pushed away. “Just go now. Please, Russell.” She lowered her voice for fear of it cracking.
“Fine,” he said sternly. He took one last look at her perhaps waiting for her to change her mind. Addison stood motionless, eyes closed. She listened to him gathering his things until he left the room. Her body jerked as she heard the front door slam behind him.
20
Sunday evening, Karsen returned to her apartment after going on a long run to clear her head. She’d made her decision. She needed closure. She needed to start over and thus justified to herself that there was only one solution. Tomorrow she would call the clinic and schedule an appointment to terminate the pregnancy. She would let her mother’s memory rest in peace and end her search for the missing charm. That was how it had to be. She would put it behind her and move forward. She placed her hands on her abdomen and sighed heavily.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She wiped the sweat from her brow with a paper towel and threw it in the trash. She needed to call Hanna and tell her she’d made her decision. She picked up her phone and noticed the red blinking light indicating a new message. It was a text from Meg.
CALL ME