In her room, Bell had long since stopped freaking out and fallen asleep in her clothes, at the foot of her bed. I heard her stirring now, awakened by Sawyer.
I got to my feet and pulled open the door, my whole body shaking. The look on Sawyer's face was not reassuring.
“What's happening?”
He looked past me, at the suitcases, and my heart broke for how hurt he looked.
“I have to tell you something,” he said. “You should sit down.”
Bell came out, rubbing her teary red eyes.
He went to her and picked her up, making his goofy weightlifter noises that she loved so much. I stood by the door, numb, as he calmly took her into the living room and got her set up with the TV, telling her he'd join her in five minutes to watch any show she wanted.
When he came back to me, I was still in the hallway, sitting cross-legged and staring at the wall.
“I'm not running,” I said. “I can't leave you, and Uncle Bruce, and my grandparents. Even Natalie, who's the kind of woman I never imagined being friends with. Now I am, and… I can't go. But you have to help me. I need a lawyer, I think.”
“You don't.”
“I do, but I don't know how I'd pay for one anyway.”
He whispered, so Bell didn't hear, “Your mother is dead.”
“No.”
“The RCMP were there to notify her next of kin, at her brother's house. That's why they were at Bruce's.”
“They weren't coming to arrest me? Or extradite me?”
“No.” He sat down across from me and stroked my foot as he stared at me with sad eyes.
I put my face in my hands. “What is happening? Why do they think my mother is dead?”
Sawyer had a piece of paper in his hands, folded in half. He stretched his arm out, handing it to me, but I wouldn't touch it. I wasn't accepting anything.
“There was a bus crash,” he said. “In Colorado. Four people died, including the driver. Your mother was one of the passengers. They think she died instantly, upon impact.”
I pulled my foot away, sickened by someone touching me while I heard this.
“It might not be her,” I said. “They can't know for sure.”
“Yes, they can. It was her, Aubrey.”
I stared over his head, at a scratch on the white wall. How could she die when I still hated her so much?
“She had this note in her pocket,” he said. “Not this actual paper. This is a fax, of course, but I'm sure they can send you the real note if you want.”
“I don't want to read it.”
“Of course you don't. But you have to.”
From the other room, Bell laughed at something on her TV. How was I going to tell her?
He opened the note and put it on my lap, the printed side toward me.
It was in my mother's handwriting, which looked so much like mine, I thought for a minute maybe it was my own letter, one of the hundreds I'd written to her but torn up. But it wasn't.
Dear Aubrey and Annabell:
I'm so sorry that I had to go away.
I think about that day all the time. I tried to forget by drinking, but there was never enough in the bottle. I've been clean for the last six months, and I want to make amends to you both, but I don't think I'm ready.
I should pay for what I've done, but I'm not ready for that either.
Derek was not a good man, and I shouldn't have put you two in that home with him.
I came home that day and found him with my best friend, Angel. They were just having a drink together, and she said she came over looking for me, but I knew it wasn't true. I could see the lies on their faces.
After she left, me and Derek got into a few. He made me so mad. I think he wanted me to hurt him. That's no excuse, and I feel terrible for what I've done, but it happened in about a minute and then it was too late to take it back.
Bell, you were sleeping in your bed, and I kissed you goodbye before I left. Your eyelashes fluttered in your sleep, but you didn't see me go.
Aubrey, you had been at school, and I passed the bus on my way out of town. I saw you sitting near the back, your nose in a book. You didn't see me, but I waved. I'm sorry.
Aubrey, I knew that you would take care of your sister better than I ever could.
I think you both have been better off without me. That's what I have to believe so I can sleep at night.
You are in my heart and I will always love you both.
Deenah, your mother.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
DECEMBER
In this part of the country, December is dark and wet. There's very little snow to reflect the light during the day, so that makes it feel gloomy. At least the grass is green and lush from the rain.
In November, we had barely finished with the funeral arrangements for my mother and started the process of getting legal custody of Bell, when my landlord decided to kick me out.
This time, though, we didn't have to run like rats in the light.
Sawyer found a place for the three of us, and as soon as I walked in, I knew it was home.
There was a window over the kitchen sink, and fluffy birds and squirrels in the back yard, waging war over the birdseed.
It's a little house on a quiet street. Nothing fancy, but still better than my dreams.
Natalie and Dave sold their house, and they found a place just a few blocks over from where we live. I'm so relieved that Taylor won't be changing schools and leaving Bell. Those two are great for each other, not to mention what an amazing friend Natalie has become to me. She says she has a new perspective on life now that she has a friend who isn't so materialistic. She says strawberries taste better, even those pale ones you get in the dead of winter.
Natalie makes me laugh.
Lots of things make me laugh nowadays.
Grandpa Jack is doing well on his current medication. He's got a dark sense of humor, and makes jokes about not buying green bananas, but I think he's going to see Bell grow up and graduate.
My grandmother had a difficult time with my mother's death. Even though they'd not spoke for over twenty years, it was tough. We talk about her regularly, so I guess she's alive in our thoughts. Between the two of us, we both knew my mother her whole life, yet it seems like she lived two separate lives, because our versions of her are so different. When she talks about things my mother did as a teenager, I imagine her as more like me, just a young girl who fell for the wrong guy, like how I fell for Damion.
About a month after my mother passed, I was looking through my jewelry box and found a beaded bracelet she bought me at a carnival. And I actually got a good feeling from the memory. The anger is gone. If that's as good as it gets, that's fine by me.
She'd probably be happy to see how well Bell is doing, and how big she's getting. She'll be taller than a sunflower soon.