This was what she meant to him? This was what her absence meant? So little that he had nothing new to say? All he could be bothered to do was to throw her words back at her?
She hadn’t remembered exactly what she’d written on that rushed morning, but seeing that first line again . . . She closed the window, deleted the e-mail, and emptied the trash, erasing all traces.
Except she couldn’t erase what Jason had done. She couldn’t believe he’d done that.
But as she sat there, her tears drying into itchy streaks, she could. Why would Jason respond? Why would he offer to carry any of the load when he never had before? Why would he start now, after she’d done this unforgivable thing, relinquishing all rights to martyrdom, transferring them so neatly to him. On a platter. Just like always.
She didn’t know why she’d hoped for more, but she had.
She didn’t know what she’d expected, but not this.
43
Dear Liv and Oscar,
I’m sorry
Don’t hate me
I’ll always be your mother
I had to
I left because
44
The next day, she was back on the couch, in her nest of blankets, the TV bleating away. Janice called to invite her swimming and she said no. Todd and Sunita texted that they were going on the weekly shopping trip that night and she didn’t respond. Janice called again to ask if she’d had any luck getting that information she’d requested and she put her off. Todd called and she didn’t answer. Janice called a third time to say that she had some potential news and why didn’t they meet at the pool tomorrow to discuss. Maribeth said maybe. Sunita texted, asking her if she wanted to go to that hipster craft fair on Saturday. Maribeth didn’t respond.
You okay? Sunita texted.
“I don’t know,” she answered out loud.
AND THEN STEPHEN texted. Checking in to see how you’re doing. Also, starting to panic about Mallory’s gift. Almost bought her a banana chair.
It was the first time she’d smiled since, well, since the last time she’d seen Stephen.
She thought about the craft fair, which Sunita had described being like an Etsy flea market. It actually sounded like the kind of place they might find something for the discerning Mallory.
Step away from the banana chair, Maribeth texted back.
She kicked off the blankets.
Screw Jason.
45
When Janice said she wanted to meet Maribeth at the club to discuss news about her birth-mother search, Maribeth figured it was a matter of convenience. The pool was around the corner from the school where Janice worked and she often swam on her lunch break. “Make sure you bring flip-flops this time,” Janice said. “You don’t want to catch a fungus.” Maribeth had little intention of swimming again, but in deference to Janice, she did pack a bathing suit.
In the locker room, Janice started to undress and Maribeth started to undress with her because not to felt weird.
“Some potentially exciting news but I don’t want to get your hopes up too much. It’s not certain,” Janice said.
“What?” Maribeth asked.
“Allegheny Children’s Home, one of the oldest, still-operating adoption agencies in Pittsburgh, has a record of a baby girl with your date of birth.”
“Is that me?” Maribeth asked.
“It might be,” Janice replied. “We could use more information to verify. Your parents’ social security numbers would be helpful.”
“I’ll get that as soon as I can,” she promised.
“Once we have that, we can try to confirm. And the Orphans’ Court search is underway but I’d expect that to go on into the new year.”
Maribeth sighed.
Janice patted Maribeth on the arm, then glanced down at Maribeth’s bare feet. “Did you bring the flip-flops?”
“No. But I don’t think I’ll swim today.”
“Oh, nonsense. You brought your suit didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, but . . .”
“And here, I brought an extra pair.” She handed Maribeth some orange shower shoes. “If they fit, you can keep them.”
“But I don’t think I’m going to swim.”
“Try them on. Do they fit?”
They were a size or two big but they would do.
“Perfect,” Janice said. “As for your swimming, I was thinking, I could give you some tips.”
“Tips?” Maribeth began to suspect that the meeting at the pool had not been a matter of convenience. She had been played.
“I was a lifeguard for years. I’m not certified anymore but I’ve taught more than my share of children to swim.”
“I’m not exactly a child,” she said.
“I know,” Janice said. “But I’m sure I can teach you, too.”
FIVE MINUTES LATER, Janice was presenting Maribeth with a kickboard.
“Really?” Maribeth asked.
“I find it’s good to start at the beginning.”
“But I thought I just needed tips, like you said, on my form. Because I’m recovering from surgery.”
“True. But good form sometimes means unlearning bad habits,” Janice said.
“What bad habits?”
“Oh, nothing specific.”
“But it’s not as if I’ve never swum before.” She may not know how to swim properly but she could swim. Sort of.
“Sometimes the best way to master something is to start at the beginning.”
Any minute now Janice was going to turn into Julie Andrews and start singing.
“Fine.” Maribeth reached for the kickboard.