Clean Slate

by Andrea Bramhall

  “And how did Morgan react to that?”

  “She held her and cried.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “It obviously meant the world to Morgan.”

  Chris leaned back in his chair, comfortable, relaxed. “And Tristan?”

  “Played brilliantly. Saved—”

  “Don’t change the subject. How was he with Morgan? How was he afterward?”

  “He didn’t make a scene; he was…cordial, with her. He seemed much happier after she assured him that she wouldn’t push. She let him know that if he didn’t want to see her, she’d accept his decision.”

  “And what was his decision?”

  “He told her that he wanted to think about it.”

  “Ah, make her sweat.”

  “Yep.” Erin put her glass back on the table and picked up an unused coaster and slowly peeled the layers apart.

  “Okay, now you can tell me how he played.”

  “He saved two penalties and really put on a show.”

  “That’s my boy!” Chris grinned. “Was it appreciated?”

  “Morgan was so excited she was jumping around like one of the kids when he saved the second penalty. She even hugged me.” She watched Chris’s eyebrow twitch. She waited for him to question what she was doing letting Morgan touch her. She expected him to get angry with her for not stopping it before it happened, at Morgan for daring to try. But he didn’t say anything.

  “So she said she won’t push for access?” Chris grabbed his glass and took a long drink.

  “She said that she knew it was hard for them both, and she didn’t want to make anything any more difficult. She was there if they wanted her, but if they didn’t, she wasn’t going to force the issue.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, technically, biologically, they’re her children—”

  “Legally they’re both of ours. We adopted them both when they were born, so in the eyes of the law, we both have joint rights and responsibilities.”

  “I know. And that’s my point. Legally, she can push this and get access, even joint custody.”

  “And you think I don’t know that?”

  Chris held his hand up. “Hey, I’m just making sure you’re looking at all sides here. I’m pretty invested in this situation too.”

  Erin closed her eyes and brought her temper back under control. Fear drove her to snap at the smallest excuse. “Sorry. I know you’re only trying to help.”

  “Do you believe that she’d back off?”

  “She sounded sincere.”

  “But?”

  “Morgan’s stubborn. If she’s determined to see them…” She didn’t want to think about fighting Morgan in court. Standing across from her and telling a judge that seeing her own children wasn’t in their best interests. She could only imagine how much that would hurt all of them. The thought of losing her children was too much to contemplate.

  “Tell me again how she was with Maddie.”

  “She brought her a yo-yo and spent ages teaching her how to do tricks with it. She took her for hot dogs, and Maddie had made her a list.” She sipped her drink. “Birthdays and stuff. So Morgan could learn them.”

  “How did Morgan react to that?”

  “She was grateful. She thanked Maddie for being so thoughtful, and later she asked Tristan about some stuff that was on it, so she must have thought it was beneficial.”

  “Hmm.” He took another drink. “Now, forgive me if I’m wrong here, but that doesn’t sound like a woman who wants to do anything to hurt those kids.”

  “No, it doesn’t. I want to believe her.”

  “But you don’t.”

  Erin sipped her drink. “No.”

  “Why not? She never hurt them before.”

  “Yes, she did. She was gone for three weeks and never called them once.”

  “But she’s here now, and that’s what we have to deal with, Erin.” Chris lifted his glass again. “Look, Morgan left, you don’t know why, she can’t tell you now, and you’re pissed off with her. I get it. Before the accident, she was dragging her heels in regards to the kids. That upset them, and you don’t want to see them upset again. I get it. And trust me, I’m fucking furious with her. But Morgan loved those kids. Whatever her reasons, she would not have left never to be seen again. She loved them far too much for that. And you know it.”

  “Do I?” She swallowed the last of her drink. “Until six weeks ago I would have sworn she loved me too much to think about leaving me. I thought we were rock solid. I built my whole world around her. Then she walked out.” She pulled her bag onto her lap and pulled out the picture of the blond woman that she had printed off the Internet.

  Chris picked up the page. “Who’s this?”

  “The woman Morgan left me for.”

  Chris dropped the paper like it had burned him. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “How do you—where—I don’t—no.”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “Morgan wouldn’t cheat on you.”

  “Well, explain that then.” She pointed to the picture.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “Off the Internet.”

  “What?”

  “Oh for God’s sake. The police came and asked me if I recognized her or this guy. Said they needed to speak to them about Morgan’s attack.”

  “And?”

  “I didn’t know her.”

  “So why is the picture on the Internet?”

  “They’ve posted the pictures and are asking people to come forward if they know who they are.”

  “Okay. And how does that make her the woman Morgan left you for?”

  “They’re looking for her because she was with Morgan that night.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “Look at her face.”

  Chris raised an eyebrow at her but did as she asked. “What am I meant to be seeing?”

  She stared at him. “Her eyes are closed.”

  “So?”

  “Her head’s tipped back and her mouth is open.”

  “Maybe she’s laughing.”

  “Does that look like laughter to you?”

  Chris shrugged. “I don’t think it matters what it looks like to me, does it?”

  “She looks like she’s being fucked.”

  “You said this was from a car park CCTV camera.”

  “So?”

  “Well, I’m just going to clarify here for a second. You think Morgan left you for this woman because the police want to ask her questions about Morgan’s attack based on this picture from a car park CCTV camera that you think is showing them—presumably her and Morgan—having sex in the car park before she was attacked. Have I missed anything?”

  “No. That just about sums it up.”

  “Okay. Let me put another angle on this for you.” He waited until she looked at him again. “What if this woman was having sex in the car park with the guy they want to question? What if Morgan disturbed them and that’s why she was attacked?”

  Erin felt her jaw drop and the air rush from her lungs. Could that be the truth? Could she really have it wrong?

  “Ask yourself this, before she left was she acting like she was seeing someone else?”

  “How the hell would I know how someone acts when they’re fucking around?”

  “They say the wife always knows.”

  “Oh, do they? Well, they are talking out of their collective arses then aren’t they?”

  “So you didn’t think she was having an affair?”

  “No.” She kept her voice quiet, but the relief was making her hands shake around her glass. “So no, I don’t know anything anymore. I’ll be back in a minute.” The bathroom was empty when she walked in. She bent over the sink and splashed water on her face. The paper towel was harsh against her skin as she wiped away the water and looked at herself in the mirror; the dark circles under her eyes telling the tale of sleepless nights
and worry.

  Chris had fresh drinks waiting when she got back. “You okay?”

  Erin shook her head and sipped her wine letting the fruity flavor settle on her tongue and warm her throat as she swallowed. “No. I really don’t think I am.” She laughed bitterly.

  “Why are you questioning yourself like this?”

  “I think I have very poor judgment when it comes to people.”

  Chris frowned. “How do you figure that one?”

  “I trusted Dad, and look what happened there. I trusted Morgan…I loved her.” She placed her glass on the table and picked up another coaster and slowly peeled the edges apart. “Like I said, bad judgment.”

  He laughed. “That’s it? That’s your reasoning?”

  Erin looked up at him. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “No, baby sister, it really isn’t.” He took a drink. “Dad wasn’t your judgment to make. It was Mum’s. And what he did is not the same as what Morgan has done.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “He left us homeless, penniless, and he didn’t even say good-bye. He practically crawled out the window in the middle of the night, before the bailiffs could come and take his boxer shorts! I remember that day just as well as you do. Watching them lock our house so we couldn’t go back inside. Seeing them load up everything but the essentials. I felt that too, Erin.”

  “He left, she left.”

  “It’s not that simple, Erin. The basic facts aren’t even close to being the same. Morgan walked out after a fight. Maybe she was coming back, maybe not, you don’t know either way. Her wages were still being paid into your joint account, she had no debts that she left you with, and she left you in the house.”

  “Even if she wasn’t seeing someone else, she still walked out!” She tossed the mangled coaster back onto the table.

  “Yep. I seem to remember a time when you had another big row with her, and you walked out.”

  “I did not!”

  “Yes, you did. You were pregnant with Tristan, and she refused to go and get you something or other at four in the morning. You turned up on Mum’s doorstep and it took her three days to convince you to go home.”

  “Oh for God’s sake, I was pregnant!”

  “So?”

  “So, I was hormonal. I had a reason.”

  “Not a very logical one.” He folded his arms across his chest, a smug smile shaping his lips.

  “It was still a reason.”

  “How do you know that Morgan didn’t have a reason?”

  “She said she did. But it was even worse than the pregnant one.”

  Chris grinned as he took another drink. “You never said she had a reason.”

  “Because it was stupid.”

  “Well?” He put his glass down again. “Let’s hear it.”

  “She said she was making us all miserable, and she couldn’t stand to do that to us.”

  He frowned. “Okay, that is a pretty crap reason, but I don’t think it’s worse than the pregnant one. Definitely on a level.”

  “Why are you sticking up for her?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not. I’m just trying to understand. I’m pissed off with her, too. I put a lot of trust in you both when I agreed to donate for the kids. I feel betrayed, too. But I think I know Morgan well enough to know that this—her leaving like this—that’s just not her. If it was, I would never have agreed to help you have your family. And I do trust my judgment, Erin. Didn’t her mum suffer from depression?”

  Erin sipped her drink. “She did.”

  “Okay, hear me out on this. What happened with Morgan’s mum and dad, it was horrific, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she was there? She saw it?”

  “She always thought it was her fault.”

  Chris cocked his head. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me. She hated talking about it. She refused point-blank to tell me anything but the facts: he killed her, Morgan testified against him, and now he’s in prison.”

  “That’s something you both did then.”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t exactly give her all the gory details about Dad, did you?”

  “What more did she need to know? He left, we never saw him again. End of story.”

  “God, Erin, you can be such a pain in the arse sometimes. We both know that affected you—us—so much deeper than that.”

  Erin closed her eyes as the memories hit her. Her mother stood to one side of her, Chris on the other, his arm wrapped about her shoulders. She stood horrified as the bailiffs locked the door to their house. The loss of their security—their home—highlighted her vulnerability, her dependence, and her helplessness as the truth of the betrayal sank in. The father she had adored—worshipped—had cared so little, he had left them with nothing and hadn’t even said good-bye.

  Chris interrupted her thoughts. “Did he hit her?”

  Erin shrugged and took a sip of her wine. “She wouldn’t say, but I think so. She has a wicked scar down her shoulder blade. When I asked about it, she said she was cut with a broken glass. She would never say anymore than that.”

  “What was Morgan like before she left?”

  “Moody. She didn’t crack a smile for weeks. She looked worried. Maybe scared. But she wouldn’t talk to me. I don’t think she talked to anyone. Amy and Nikki didn’t have a clue what was going on either. Well, they said they didn’t.”

  “You don’t believe them?”

  “I do. It was frustrating. The not knowing.”

  “I know there were parts of her past she refused to talk about, but she wasn’t usually so tightlipped. Did something trigger the change?”

  Erin glared at him again and sipped her drink. “I don’t know, maybe some blonde.”

  “Well, it’s a fairly big change in behavior, and the actions that followed were out of character too. If this was one of my patients, I’d be thinking about treating for depression.”

  “You think she was depressed rather than having an affair?”

  “Do you?” He sipped from his glass.

  “I hate it when you do that.”

  “What?” Chris wiped beer froth from his upper lip.

  “Answer a question with a question. It’s such a shrinky thing to do.”

  “Sorry.” He smiled. “So do you think she was depressed?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “But it makes more sense now, doesn’t it?”

  “Than her fucking someone else? Not really.”

  “I’ll say this once so listen to me very carefully.” He waited until she met his eyes. “Morgan wasn’t having an affair. I’ll stake anything you want on that. Swear to anything you like. Morgan loved you and the kids with everything in her. Why she did what she did—well, I’m guessing we’ll never really know now. But when the police find out who these people are, there will be some other explanation for that picture than the one you assumed. I know Morgan wouldn’t have cheated on you. And so should you.”

  “I thought I did.”

  “But her behavior was so out of character that now you doubt everything?”

  “Yes.”

  “I understand that. But if you doubt everything, do yourself a favor.”

  “What?”

  “Doubt that your assumption is right too. Give yourself the possibility that the explanation for that picture will not be one that is incriminating for Morgan. Whatever it might be.”

  “You do know what you’re asking of me here, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I’m asking my science loving logical baby sister to have faith.”

  “Hmpf.”

  “Trust in what you and Morgan had, Erin. Trust it. It was something I always dreamed I’d one day find.”

  “Something I—we—had. Not anymore.”

  Chris drank his beer and watched her. “Depression prevents people from thinking logically. What seems simple and understandable, becomes the most difficult thing in the world
to grasp. Even small things turn into insurmountable obstacles. You said she looked scared sometimes.”

  “Scared of what though? That I couldn’t deal with the situation if she was suffering from depression? That I’d be like her dad and hit her?” Erin could scarcely believe what he was saying.

  “No, I know it seems ludicrous. But she grew up in that environment. I think she was scared for the kids.”

  Erin frowned.

  “That they’d grow up like her if they saw their mum the way she saw herself.”

  “That’s just backward. She left, thereby hurting them, to stop them from being hurt. We’re back to stupid reasons again, Chris.”

  “Not really. It comes down to which is the greater hurt, doesn’t it?”

  “English. Plain and simple. Speak it now!”

  “If you’ve got a plaster over a cut, you know that taking it off is going to hurt, how do you do it?”

  “Why are we talking about plasters now?”

  “Answer the question.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Rip it off fast. Get it over and done with.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Exactly.” She mimicked. “And that’s important because?”

  “It hurts less in the long run.”

  “And?”

  “Oh, Erin, use that big brain of yours and think for a minute. Stop feeling hurt and angry and think.”

  She felt her jaw drop and her eyes grew wide as the realization of what he meant hit her. Was it possible that Morgan ran because she was afraid she was going to lose them or hurt them? What possible reason could she have for believing that? Did she really believe that? Erin thought about Morgan’s face as she walked out. It wasn’t anger on her face; it was regret. And fear. And determination. That’s what had bothered her so much. Morgan had looked as though she was doing something she had to do, rather than something she wanted to do. It wasn’t a choice, but a necessity.

  “I don’t think you have bad judgment at all, Erin. Trust yourself. Trust her.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because all this, however plausible it might sound and however forgivable it might be, you’re guessing. We have no way of knowing if she was scared of something. We have no way of knowing if she was acting in our best interests. And we have no one to ask for corroboration because she can’t remember even if we did!”