The Promise Between Us
Page 17
“I gave it to her. That’s what friends do. Exchange phone numbers. You must be Maisie’s mom. I’m Katie Mack.” The woman pressed her thumb into her palm, forcing her hand back at what had to be a painful angle. “Strange way for us to meet.”
Lilah looked from Katie to Callum and back to Katie. Did they know each other?
“Thank you for bringing her home. Maisie—” Lilah held out her hand, but Maisie didn’t react. “I’m sorry you overheard us fighting, sweetie. Pregnancy’s making me witchy.”
“Maisie.” Callum’s voice was low. “Come here.”
“I can’t, Daddy. Katie understands.”
“What does Katie understand?” Lilah said.
Katie looked down at Maisie. Maisie gave a nod, and Katie looked back up. “Your daughter’s very brave, Mrs. MacDonald.”
Maisie stood up straight. “I’ve been scared to tell you, Daddy, so scared. I didn’t want to be the causation of more worry, because I know you have a lot to deal with right now. But you taught me to tell the truth.” She stepped toward her dad. “And Katie says it’s time to be honest with you, so I’m going to try.”
Callum dropped to his knees. “I’ve been scared, too. But it’s okay, peanut. It’s okay.”
“Any chance one of you could fill me in?” Lilah said.
“I have a voice inside my head,” Maisie said. “Not really a voice. I mean, it’s part of me, but not a part I want. These horrid thoughts come from nowhere. Nowhere! And they feel very alien and scary. They got super loud when you and my dad were arguing, and told me you hated each other and it was my fault. And that awful things were going to happen, but Katie explained the voice is an in-tru-sive thought and I should tell you both. So I am. And I feel a bit better. Telling you. Are you mad at me?”
“Of course not.” Lilah wrapped her left arm around her belly. Maisie was hearing voices?
“I have the same thing.” Katie smiled. “That’s why Maisie contacted me. It’s called obsessive-compulsive disorder, and it’s treatable. But Maisie’s had a rough time.” Katie turned to Callum. “Go easy on her, Cal.”
Cal? Why was Katie calling Callum . . . ? Lilah held up the envelope.
Katie’s hand shot to her throat and she gasped.
Callum stood up and tugged Maisie to him. He crossed his arms over her. “Leave,” he said to Katie. “Now.”
Lilah looked down at the envelope addressed to Maisie, care of Cal MacDonald. The return address read K. M., followed by the name of a homeless shelter in Asheville, North Carolina. K. M.—Katelyn MacDonald, but also Katie Mack.
“Is that for me?” Maisie said. “It’s addressed to me. Why do you have it, Lilah?”
Lilah raised her eyes slowly; her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Katie knelt down in front of Callum and took Maisie’s hands. “That puzzle we talked about? I know how to put it back together, honey. Your parents aren’t arguing because of you. They’re arguing because of me.” Katie glanced up at Callum. “You want to tell her?”
“I don’t understand,” Maisie said, but Lilah understood all too well.
She finally had her answers, her conclusion. This wasn’t her family and never had been. She wasn’t Maisie’s mother. Maybe she wasn’t even Callum’s wife. Had everything been a lie?
“When you were born after ten hours of labor, you were black and blue,” Katie said. “A forceps baby. You were six pounds, seven ounces, and so quiet. You slept a lot because you were jaundiced. But then you got well, put on weight, and learned how to cry. You were the most beautiful baby in the world.”
“How do you know?” Maisie said.
“Because she’s your mother,” Callum said, and released his hold on Maisie.
“Mommy? You’re my mommy? You’re alive?”
Katie nodded, and Maisie threw her arms around her mother’s neck. Lilah staggered and hit the railing of the front steps. No, I’m her mommy. Me.
“Uncle J was right! You’re beautiful and awesome and we can make art together and—” Maisie pulled back. “Why? Why did everyone tell me you’re dead?”
“Your dad and I agreed it would be better that way.”
“I was going to tell you, Lilah, but so much happened so fast, and I couldn’t keep up. I’m sorry.” Callum tossed out a shaky smile. Lilah contemplated tossing a thing or two back, until Maisie spoke.
“Didn’t you want me?” Maisie’s little voice said.
Groping behind for something solid, Lilah sat heavily on the steps and tilted her head up to the sky. How could a mother—or a father—do this to a child?
“Honey. There was only one thing I wanted more,” Maisie’s mother—her real mother—answered. “For you to be happy. The truth is . . . I ran away when you were a baby, because my voice was too loud. It told me I wanted to hurt you, which was the biggest lie of all. But I believed its lies, and I had to keep you safe, Maisie. And your dad was trying to do the same.”
“But why didn’t you come back for me?”
“I’m not as brave as you. I was scared to get help, and by the time I did, I couldn’t look after myself, much less you. I grew up worrying about a mommy who couldn’t cope, and I never wanted to put you through that. You deserved the best, and that wasn’t me. It was the right decision for everyone, Maisie. Especially for you.”
Think, Lilah, where are your car keys? She should get up, go inside, pack a bag, and drive home to her own mother.
“But you could have come back after you got well,” Maisie said.
“I think she just did,” Lilah mumbled.
“It was too late, Maisie. You thought I was dead, and you had your dad and Uncle J. And now you have Lilah and a baby brother or sister.”
“But I wanted you. You! And you didn’t want me.”
“Sweetheart, I wanted you more than anything, but I had nothing to offer. And you deserved better. You have better.”
Maisie twisted around and flew at Callum, arms flailing. She hit him in the stomach; he didn’t react. “You always told me to be honest, but you lied to me, Daddy. You’re the biggest cheater of all.”
“I second that,” Lilah said. She pushed herself up. Enough. She was leaving—in earnest this time. If she couldn’t find her car keys, she’d take Callum’s.
“I love you, Maisie,” Callum said. “And I needed you to be safe. To have the best childhood, the happiest childhood. I wanted that for you more than anything.”
“I just wanted my mommy!” Maisie yelled.
Callum said something, but his voice drifted away. Everything became fuzzy. The world was tipping over, and she was sliding off.
“I hate to go all Victorian heroine,” Lilah said. “But I think I’m about to—”
TWENTY
JAKE
Whistling a Taylor Swift song stuck in his brain—Thanks, Maisie—Jake glanced at the crew mowing the lawn next door to Callum’s house. The push mower hit something, the machine bucked, but the guy kept going. Shit job, cutting grass on a Sunday. He should know, since he’d been a subcontractor for a Mexican landscaper before moving to LA. Poor dude didn’t speak much English, so Jake functioned as a translator, too. Spanish, now that was one subject he’d aced in school, thanks to all that extracurricular activity with Rosalita and—darn, what was her friend’s name, the one with the best ass in high school?
Jake stopped whistling and maneuvered around a truck parked with all the finesse of a crashed Fourth of July float. The truck looked kinda familiar, and why was the door of the house flung open? Callum saw an open front door as an invitation for danger to stroll on in. Danger. Jumping out of his car, Jake ran toward the house, calling for Maisie and Callum. No one answered, but there were voices coming from the living room.
Lilah Rose was lying on the sofa, pushing Callum away. Drained of color, Callum looked worse than he did after cycling a century on a warm day.
“You okay, man?”
“Lilah fainted,” Callum said in little more than a whisper.
“Baby?” He rushed to Maisie.
“You knew, too?” Maisie said.
“That your mama’s alive? Yeah, I knew.”
“You lied to me!” Maisie shouted. “All of you lied to me.”
He sank to his knees and held out his arms for a Maisie hug, but she dodged as he’d taught her. A boy you don’t like starts making moves on you, this is what you do. Would she also kick him in the nuts? His brain stated fact: Far worse things have happened to you. But his heart screamed otherwise.
“Lilah didn’t lie to you,” Katie said softly. “Your stepmom clearly knew nothing.”
He stood up and nodded at Katie. His mama’s words came to mind: “You done real good, sugar.”
Maisie seemed to pivot on the spot before flinging herself across Lilah Rose’s chest.
“Shhh.” She brushed back Maisie’s hair. “I’m fine, you’re fine, the baby’s fine. Everything’s fine.” Lilah Rose gave a high-pitched laugh. “Actually it’s far from fine, but we’ll get through this together, my little M&M.”
“Maisie, I’m sorry,” Katie said. “I never meant for you to find out.”
“You think that makes me feel better?” Maisie sobbed.
Callum sank into the nearest armchair and hung his head in his hands. Jake looked to the nearest window and focused on a large black-and-yellow spider that had built an intricate web on the outside of the screen and decorated it with zigzags of silk. He would not cry. He would not.
“You’re—” Maisie sucked in a huge sob, and Jake struggled to not ram his fingers in his ears. “You’re my real mom and you didn’t want me to know? Never. Wanted. Me”—another sob—“to know?”
“I never stopped loving you, honey. Not for one second.” How could Katie stay so calm, while his insides were being ripped out through his belly button?
“When we met at CAM,” Katie continued in that damn steady voice, “I saw the amazing young lady you’d become, and I knew I’d been right to stay away. But the anxiety, Maisie. I can help with that.”
Maisie clung to Lilah Rose—not Callum, not him—as if she were a flotation device. “So now you only want me because I’m faulty?”
“Hush, sweetie,” Lilah Rose said. “You’re not faulty, you’re brilliant and kind and we all love you. You’re ’Mazing Maisie.”
That’s my name for her. But the realization caught in his craw. He’d stolen ’Mazing Maisie from Katelyn. Deliberately. With malice.
“No!” Maisie darted away. “I hate all of you. Leave me alone.” And then she ran up the stairs and slammed her door.
Jake inhaled sharply.
“I should leave,” Katie said.
“Now you say this?” Callum said. “It wasn’t enough to take a wrecking ball to my life once? We had a deal, Katelyn. Why couldn’t you have stayed—”
“Dead?” Lilah Rose sat up. “And you, Callum, you confided in Jake, but not me?”
Jake stepped forward. “The deal the four of us made—”
“Four of you?” Lilah Rose said.
“Maisie’s aunt,” Katie said. “My sister.”
“Are there any more of you I should know about?”
“Lilah Rose, it was my plan from the get-go.” Jake turned to Katie. “I’m guessing you knew that.”
Katie bit into her lip.
“I appreciate you covering for him,” Lilah Rose said, “but Callum’s a big boy. He could have explained the truth to me at any point in the last year that he’s been fucking me.”
Callum winced. “I was going to tell you after the baby was born. How could I risk upsetting you when you’re pregnant?”
“You just did, you bastard.”
“Don’t!” Callum shot up. “Don’t look at me as if I’m contagious. Don’t talk as if you hate me. Yes, I messed up. Don’t you think I know that? But we can move beyond this, we can.”
“I’d like this back so I can destroy it.” Katie picked up the letter from the floor and shoved it in her pocket. “Suppose Maisie had found it? Why did you keep it, Cal?”
Callum laughed in a creepy-as-shit way. “Why did you send it to her?”
“Guys,” Jake said. “Our priority here is Maisie.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot,” Katie said. “I can’t talk to Cal without you in the middle.”
“Katelyn, you need to leave my house,” Callum said.
“The house I found, the house I chose, the house I decided was ours? No. I’m not leaving. I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to sit outside our daughter’s bedroom door until she talks to me. Until she talks to us.” She looked at Callum. “For once, we’re going to deal with something as a family.”
“We’re not a family.” Callum spat out his words. “We haven’t been a family since the day you left us.”
“Since the day you locked me out.”
“You”—Callum walked toward her, pointing—“need to leave so I can deal with my daughter.”
“Enough, you guys,” Lilah Rose snapped. “I have an unborn baby to think about, and you two are turning my air toxic. The only person who’s going to be dealing with Maisie is me, since I’m the only person who hasn’t lied to her. All of you, scram.”
“You’re throwing me out of my own house?” Callum yelled.
What about me? Jake wanted to say. But yeah, what about me? I’m the one person here who isn’t her parent. He’d never needed a label to tell him what his heart knew. But standing here, he wanted that label.
“Our house.” Lilah Rose glared, briefly, at Katie. “And yes. Slink off with Jake and think about what you want to say to me and your daughter, because at this precise moment, I want nothing to do with the father of my child.”
“You want me to leave when Maisie’s this upset?”
“I don’t think she’s upset, Callum. I think she’s devastated. Thanks to you, you”—Lilah Rose nodded at Katie—“and you.” She nodded at Jake. “Nice job, the three of you. Now get out, so I can be the parent this kid needs.”
“I am not leaving. I’m the one constant in her life,” Callum screamed. Jake glanced toward the stairs. “Her father, you hear me? Her father!”
“I think half the street heard you.” Lilah Rose rubbed her stomach.
Jake put a hand on Callum’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off.
“I’m not going,” Callum said, although his tone suggested otherwise.
“Yes,” Lilah Rose said, “you are.”
Jake wanted to speak up, be the bigger person. Do the right thing. Leave and take Callum with him, but he couldn’t.
“Her anxiety’s going to ramp up,” Katie said to Lilah. “If you need help—”
“I have a friend who’s a psychologist. I’ll call him the moment you leave.”
“Tell him we think she has OCD, that her mother does, and her grandmother was an alcoholic prone to angry outbursts. Lilah,” Katie said, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m a little tired of apologies right now. All of you need to leave while I tend to a ten-year-old girl who’s entitled to better parents.” Lilah Rose pushed herself up—belly first—using the arm of the sofa.
In another situation, Jake would have applauded, would have congratulated Lilah Rose on becoming the mama he’d always hoped she’d be. But he was having a hard time thinking beyond his own pain. Even if Maisie forgave him, this moment would remain. Maisie didn’t hold grudges, but her moral compass swung only two ways, and he was stranded in the middle.
“Come on, y’all,” he said. “It’s best we do as Lilah Rose suggests.”
Katie nodded and left the room. He followed, but Callum lagged behind, grabbing his keys and wallet from the hall table and fumbling through the pile of shoes. Katie headed to her truck, and with a sigh, Jake followed.
“You okay to drive?” He wasn’t sure he should be driving.
Katie stopped with her hand on the door handle but didn’t
turn. “Maisie hates me,” she said.
“You and me both.” He couldn’t even pretend, as Lilah Rose had done, that it would all be fine. “Don’t drive home. Give me your phone and I’ll call Ben. Ask him to come get you.”
“No. He’s working on a big commission. Besides, I do my best work alone.” She stared straight ahead, her eyes dry. “Once you know how rock bottom feels, you’re always waiting for it to return. And when it does, it’s almost a relief. And it’s comforting because it’s what you know. And expect. And deserve.”
They both jumped when the front door slammed.
“Revenge as sweet as you’d imagined?” Callum stalked toward his car.
Katie touched Jake’s arm. “Maisie will forgive you. When she agrees to see you, please tell her I love her.”
“Ignore her, Jake.”
Jake swung round. “Back off, Callum. We’ve all been through enough.”
For once he wanted to be the person who fell apart. The difference between him and Katie was that he didn’t want to do it alone. As Katie closed her truck door and Callum slammed his car door, Jake pulled out his phone and typed a text.
Maisie emergency.
Wondered when I’d hear from you, Delaney replied.
TWENTY-ONE
KATIE
Katie had lied to Jake.
She sure as hell shouldn’t be behind the wheel of a truck, a vehicle that could use size and weight to cause death, but if she didn’t drive back to Durham, alone, the voice would win. Looking over her shoulder, Katie backed up at a snail’s pace to avoid taking out the mailbox. Jake stood at the end of the driveway, staring at his phone.
How high’s the fear thermometer, Katie? How high? Six? Am I safe to drive? No, no, I’m not. I’m going to cause an accident, kill a child. What kind of a mother pretends she’s dead, lets her child believe she’s dead? I’m the angel of death. Death. Heart’s racing, can’t breathe, shouldn’t be driving. Fear thermometer’s seven. Got to be seven. That mom on the sidewalk, holding her little girl’s hand? I could run up onto the grass and hit them both. Kill them. Cal’s right, I destroyed his life, and now I’m going to destroy another husband’s life. Take a stranger’s family. Kill his family.