We’ve both got tears streaming down our faces and we’re holding hands. I don’t know how long we stay like that, but at some point we left the kitchen to return to our beds, knowing we had to get at least some sleep if we had any chance to making it through the next several days.
-------------o-------------
The front door opens and Claire and I look up from the scattered papers we’ve been staring at all morning. She’s taken it upon herself to make the funeral arrangements since nobody else can even discuss it without some sort of emotional episode. At first I hadn’t wanted a thing to do with it, knowing it would only finalize the truth of what was happening. But when Claire started asking my opinion on mundane things—flowers, locations, etc—I sat down beside her at the coffee table in the living room and started helping her.
So far, the worst and easiest thing we’ve had to deal with has been burial options. If there isn’t anything to bury, there’s no need to make a decision on a casket or cremation. We decided on an empty plot owned by his parents where we’ll place a memorial headstone. It’ll kill us to visit it, knowing he’s not there, but we need some sort of closure and this is probably our only option.
Claire brought up the subject of Matthew’s will while we were working. Danny, being a lawyer, had helped him revise it some six months ago and now has it locked up in his office safe. None of us knows what’s in it and frankly, I don’t care, but I know at some point it’s going to come up; I also know exactly what to expect when it’s brought out and I’m dreading it. If Matthew’s family didn’t hate me to begin with, they would once they find out to whom he left everything. And it would be just like him to get one more dig in on his family for their treatment towards me over the years, even if he’s not here to reap the benefits of seeing the results of his handiwork. Despite knowing what his family meant to him, I also knew that if it had ever come down to it, he would have chosen me over them. And it wouldn’t have been a difficult decision for him to make. I’m sure they know the same and that is part of the reason they resent me as much as they do.
Look at it this way, my mind tells me. Once this is over, you don’t have to see any of them aside from Claire ever again.
It’s a comforting thought.
Danny enters the living room followed closely by Leo and it’s clear he hasn’t slept in days. He’s got black bags under his bloodshot eyes and seems a decade older than he actually is. I stand and cross the room, surprising him by wrapping my arms around his waist in a hug. After a moment, he returns my embrace. When I pull away, he gives me a tight smile that doesn’t meet his eyes as he also hugs Claire briefly.
“Hungry?” she asks him quietly.
He only nods and we lead him into the kitchen. There is so much we need to ask Leo, so many things we still don’t understand, and though I’d considered bombarding him the moment he walked through the door, I hold back, realizing he’s just lost his best friend.
“Where’re the kids?” Leo croaks as Claire and I join him and Danny at the table, passing around plates with sandwiches.
“Mom and Liz took them out,” Claire tells him. “They needed a distraction and we couldn’t think with them running around the house screaming. Worked out for everyone.”
Leo nods as he takes a large bite of his sandwich. “Well, we might as well get this out of the way before they get back, then,” he says reluctantly, looking each of us in the eye in turn.
“What happened with the plane?” Claire asks without hesitation.
“Internal issues with one of the engines,” he tells us. “Matt and the pilot did their preflight checks to make sure everything was working properly and at that time, it had been, so they took off. Halfway into the flight, somewhere over Germany, the engine caught fire and before the pilot could even make an SOS call, they crashed.”
We’re silent for a moment as we process this new information. From what Leo says, it was quick. Hopefully this means Matthew and the others on the plane didn’t suffer for too long. I can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been for them, knowing that was the end and there wasn’t a Goddamn thing they could do about it. Claire silently hands me a tissue and I realize I’m crying again. When I look at her, though, she’s crying as well, so I don’t feel nearly as self-conscious as I would otherwise.
“How many people were on the plane?” Danny asks quietly. “The news is being vague about it.”
Leo shifts in his seat a little. “Seven,” he says. “Two pilots, one flight attendant, three security guys, and Matt.”
“Where were they going?” I ask. “I thought this trip was to Italy, then home?”
Leo’s brow furrows at me as though he’s trying to figure out what I’m talking about. “We weren’t in Italy,” he tells me slowly. “Originally that’s who we thought we were dealing with, but those fuckers weren’t Italian.”
“Who were they, then?” Claire asks.
“Russian,” Leo says. “Russian mob, to be exact. We still don’t understand why they were so desperate to get their hands on the chip, but they damn sure weren’t resting until they got what they wanted. That’s where we were originally.”
None of this makes sense. Why would Matthew tell me he was going to Italy when he wasn’t doing any such thing? Of course I know the answer immediately: He didn’t want to worry me with who he was really dealing with and if these people were mob like Leo says, I would have been beyond worried. Another part of me is bitter that he lied, even if it was to protect me.
“But back to your question,” he says, gesturing at me with his half-eaten sandwich, “he was headed to Italy. He found a buyer who wasn’t afraid of the threats and he intended to get rid of the damn thing.”
Claire has her eyes narrowed on Leo and I know something isn’t making sense to her, though I have no idea what that might be. “You were in Russia?” she asks quietly. Leo nods warily. “And there was every possibility that these people would hurt you if they didn’t get what they wanted?” Another nod, though this time, Leo pales fractionally. “And Matt left, but you stayed behind? Since when does either of you conduct business without the other?”
My brow furrows as I wait for Leo’s answer. “Because Matt’s leaving was supposed to remain secret,” he explains. “If we both took off at the same time, the Russians would have known where we’d gone and followed us. I stayed back to keep them distracted, make them think we were still hanging around and waiting for negotiations.”
“What negotiations?” I ask sharply. “Matt wasn’t actually considering doing business with these people?”
Leo sighs. “Not exactly,” he says evasively.
When he doesn’t go on, Claire huffs impatiently. “Leo, I swear to God, if you don’t start explaining, I’m going to beat the shit out of you,” she threatens. “Unless you’ve forgotten, this is my brother we’re discussing and I want to know what happened to him.”
To my surprise and slight amusement that I stifle almost immediately, I watch as Leo actually cowers slightly at Claire and her words. “He was going to fake them out,” he tells us resignedly. “Give them a fake chip long enough for us to get out of the country, to Italy, then to home. By the time they would have realized it, they would’ve been tracked down and dealt with by the government.”
“The government was aware of what was going on?” Danny asks skeptically.
Leo nods. “The whole time,” he confirms. “Apparently US intelligence has been working with Russian governmental agencies to catch these guys doing whatever it is they do and the second they tried to go after Matt, they would have been caught and put away for a very long time.”
“Matt was using himself as bait,” I whisper in horrifying realization. “Wasn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Leo confirms. “He was. Which is why I called you that day, Sam, to try and work out what he did with the actual chip. It needed to be somewhere safe, but nowhere near Matt. I needed to know in case something happened to him.”
Claire is frowni
ng at Leo and I wait for her to say something, but the front door opens before she has the chance and a stampede of tiny feet confirms the return of the children. Leo seems incredibly relieved by this development and after saying a brief hello to the kids, excuses himself upstairs for a nap.
-------------o-------------
In the days leading up to Matthew’s memorial service, tensions run high. Claire is snapping at anyone who tries to advise her on how to do anything—whether it be arrangements for Matthew or making coffee—and we’ve all taken it upon ourselves to walk away as quickly as possible if we hear her muttering under her breath. Aside from her and her mom, the rest of the family pretty much ignores me. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that their strong dislike of me doesn’t extend to my son. And why should it? He’s Matthew’s son as well and he hasn’t done a damn thing to earn their ire. Tyler hasn’t really spent much time with his grandparents, mostly because I knew I wouldn’t be welcome in their home, but Matthew’s mother visited us when Claire and Danny flew out to Omaha to see us, which has only been on a few occasions over the years.
I’m relieved that my son isn’t being snubbed by his family because they never believed me to be good enough for Matthew.
They, however, are the least of my concerns. Neither Claire nor I have brought up my consideration to leave the day after the accident, but I know she’s keeping a close eye on me. Not that she needs to; I’m in this until the end. And the end is coming pretty rapidly at this point.
Leo has pretty much kept to himself since he got back. I find him staring off into space more often than not and he refuses to talk anymore about what happened to Matthew. A few times, he’s been out on the back porch on his phone and the moment he sees one of us is there, he ends his call. Claire thinks he knows more than he’s saying. I think he’s just grieving and this is his way of doing things.
The night before the memorial, I’ve finished setting out clothes for Tyler and me, and head down to dinner. The whole family is here tonight—Matthew’s parents, Paul and Diane; his sisters Holly, the oldest, and Elizabeth, and their husbands Joe and Mike; Claire, Danny, Leo, me, and the kids—and Claire has already announced we’ll be drinking in Matthew’s honor. She got a few odd glances from that comment, considering he quit drinking, for the most part, because it caused his temper to shorten and tended to get him into trouble. Personally, I think she’s been looking for an excuse to drink for the last few days and this is perfect.
I approach the dining room and start to open the door until I hear voices whispering behind it. “...gold digging bitch doing here, anyway?” Without a doubt, that’s Holly. Part of me wants to turn and walk away as quickly as possible. Part of me wants to rush in there and slap her. Part of me wants to hear what she has to say.
The last part wins.
A pan hits what I assume to be the stove with excessive force and I imagine Claire spinning around to face her sister. “First of all, watch your mouth about Samantha,” she snaps. “You don’t know her. You never attempted to get to know her. She’s here because I want her here.”
“She doesn’t belong here, Claire,” I hear Elizabeth chime in. “She never did. What Matt saw in her I’ll never understand.”
“Maybe he saw that she’s not a stuck-up, two-faced bitch like you. Not everyone is looking for a man with money, you know.”
“Which you’ve demonstrated with your choice of husband,” Holly mutters.
“Fuck you, Holly!” Claire shouts. “At least my husband has personality and doesn’t wait around for me to lead him around like a dog on a leash. My husband takes care of his family and he’s happy, not emotionless robots like you two married.”
“Don’t you ever wonder what really happened with Matt and Samantha, Claire?” Elizabeth hisses. “One minute they’re the picture of happily ever after and the next she’s stealing away in the middle of the night with their son. And don’t tell me you bought that B.S. about it being a mutual decision.”
There’s silence in the room for a few moments and I can imagine Claire either preparing to unleash her temper on her sisters or furrowing her brow in thought. I feel my breaths coming in rapid succession and I try to keep quiet, despite knowing Elizabeth and Holly know. They know the one thing I’ve fought to keep to myself all these five years, not wanting Matthew or Claire to know. Aside from destroying familial relations, I know they’d both always wonder in the backs of their minds whether it was true.
“What the hell are you on about?” Claire asks quietly and I know she’s taken Elizabeth’s bait.
“Holly, do you think she managed to spend all the money yet?” Elizabeth asks thoughtfully.
I can almost see Holly smirking. “I don’t know,” she muses. “It was quite bit. Enough to keep her from needing to seek out Matty again...”
“What the fuck are you two talking about?” Claire asks impatiently.
“Oh, didn’t you know, Claire?” Holly asks in mock-surprise. “Your supposed best friend and Matty’s supposed one and only got a nice payoff before she left him. Somewhere around half a million if I remember correctly.”
My eyes close in horror from the situation and once again, I feel my entire life falling apart. I want to walk away, hide from all of them, but I’m still frozen in place.
“Daddy made the offer when Matt was in the hospital,” Elizabeth clarifies for Claire. “Half a million if she turned and walked away from Matt and never looked back. Why do you think she’s been so determined to avoid him for so long?”
“No.” My heart lifts at Claire’s vehement denial. “Sam wouldn’t have done that. She loved Matt more than anything. Besides, she told me what happened.”
“And I bet it was something that makes you feel sorry for her, isn’t it?” Elizabeth says quietly. “Something that makes just enough sense that you haven’t even considered anything else.”
“Screw both of you,” Claire whispers. “Matt loved her, end of story. And she’s not going anywhere. If you don’t like it, you know where the door is. And the next time you start spewing bullshit about her, you will be out of my life. I’ve been looking for excuses for years. This would work perfectly.”
I can’t stand here anymore. Intending to head upstairs for the rest of the night, I again stop dead in my tracks to find Leo leaning against the wall behind me, his eyes trained on me, his brow furrowed. My face heats up in embarrassment and shame for being caught eavesdropping and for what I’m sure he also overheard. His gaze softens fractionally, and he jerks his head towards the staircase, allowing me an easy out from this situation. I want to explain, but I can’t find the words. Mouthing a thank you, I rush past him. Halfway up the stairs, I hear him making his entrance into the kitchen with a loud demand for dinner.
I never wanted to relive the discussion with Matthew’s father from that day in the hospital. Though even I had to admit I knew deep down it would come up at some point, especially with what’s happened to Matthew. Maybe I just hoped it would wait until I was out of the line of fire. I know I promised Claire I would be here to help her through this situation, but I can’t stay here. Every eye in this house will have a glint of suspicion aimed directly at me and I can’t face that, not without Matthew here.
Swiping at my eyes, I quickly pack my things, carefully placing the gift Matthew left for me between my shirts for padding, make a quick phone call, then head down the hall to pack Tyler’s bag. To my relief, I don’t have to go searching for my son; he finds me as I’m returning to the guest room.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?” he asks quietly, his little brow furrowed.
I force a smile. “Nothing, baby,” I lie. “We’re going to go somewhere very soon. I’ve already got your bag. But we need to keep quiet, all right? This is a secret trip.”
He doesn’t understand, I know he doesn’t, but he trusts me and nods and I know he’ll go along with everything I ask him to do right now.
I hear the family all sitting down at the table and it will only b
e a matter of minutes before Claire comes looking for me and Tyler, if she hasn’t written me off altogether, and I have to take advantage of their distraction. As quietly as possible, Tyler and I slip out the door and head down the long driveway where I see the cab I called pulling up at the street.
One last glance at the house and I swear I see movement near the porch, but the moment I blink and try to readjust my eyesight to see through the dark, it’s gone and I know I’ve imagined it. With Tyler and me buckled up in the backseat, I give the cab driver my destination address and we’re off.
12
Eight Years Ago...
We’ve been driving for what feels like days and the only landscape changes I’ve noticed are the ones that go from cows to corn and back again. It’s a nice drive, relaxing, but I honestly cannot see how people could possibly live here their entire lives without dying of sheer boredom. To say we stick out like a sore thumb is like saying cars run on gas. Wherever we stop, whether it is for food, lodging, or fuel for the car, we’ve got people staring at us. I don’t think they know what an outsider even looks like let alone how to figure out why one would be in the middle of fucking nowhere.
Everyone we’ve met so far has been incredibly nice, though, and that’s a definite change. I spend my days dealing with stuck-up, arrogant bastards who think they’re dealing with a child and as such can dictate the way a deal is worked out. It usually doesn’t take me long to put them in their place, but it’s tiresome and I need a break from that. Hence the road trip. I don’t remember the last time I did something like this, probably never, and it only took the gentlest pushing from Leo to get me to agree. He took care of renting a car, found an Iowa state roadmap, refusing to do things with technology despite our involvement in a recent piece of GPS technology that far surpasses anything before it, and even bought a mountain of road snacks that are sitting in the backseat. I don’t know about him, but I feel like a teenager again, which shouldn’t be a surprise since it’s only been about six years since I was a teenager. It feels like so much longer than that to me, though, and it just goes to show how far I’ve thrown myself into my work since I left college.
Young Lies (Young Series) Page 20