Page 51 of Single Mom's Undoing
“Let’s keep it that way.”
“Sure thing. I’ll see you again when the funds are ready. Wait for my call,” he says.
By the time I get home and go through the box more thoroughly, I understand precisely what Pat meant.
It’s not just photos of Stephan and Margot that were kept secret.
There are recordings, both video and audio, hidden on two of Stephan’s old phones. Email printouts. Receipts for places they must’ve been together, evidence of an affair going back years. Stephan kept all of it for a reason, and it breaks my heart that there was so much distrust between him and Margot.
The only woman my brother ever truly loved.
The next day,I head over to the Blackthorn Falls Cemetery, where Stephan is buried. It’s a quiet place, lush with greenery and neatly trimmed flowering bushes. Were it not for the thousands of grey stone and marble tombstones, I’d mistake it for a lovely park.
Under the sun’s warmth, I make my way up the alley, making a tight left turn at the blossoming magnolia tree. It’s eighty years old, and Stephan and I carved our initials into its bark shortly after our parents’ funeral. There’s a bench nearby, and I settle Matty there with his iPad so I can visit with my family for a few moments.
I find Stephan’s final resting place covered with daisies, his tombstone next to Mom and Dad’s. For a moment, seeing their names together like this breaks me. I fall to my knees and begin to cry.
“What did you get yourself into, Stephan?” I ask. “You had so much life ahead of you, another woman to fall madly in lovewith someday. Why’d you have to get yourself killed like that? You left me on my own when I needed you the most.”
It’s not fair of me to say, but I say it, because it’s how I feel.
His absence hurts too much. I made my choices and I’ve been living with them ever since. It doesn’t make the pain go away, though.
“What are you doing here?” Margot’s voice cuts through the hush of the cemetery.
I freeze on my knees in the soft grass. Her heels click across the stone plates of the alleyway as she comes closer. Slowly, I turn my head to look at her. The years of substance abuse have not been kind, though she might still be able to pull herself back together if she got into rehab soon.
Wearing grey pants and a white shirt, Margot looks like she’s lost a lot of weight. She’s all skin and bones. Her blonde hair is pulled into a tight ponytail, her eyes hidden behind large black sunglass. The angry twist of her lips is directed at me.
“I could ask you the same question,” I reply, my voice low, almost a growl. “This is my family’s resting place, not yours.”
“You don’t belong here. Hell, you don’t belong anywhere in this town. When did you get back?”
It’s then that I notice the bouquet of fresh daisies in her hand. I stare at it for a moment, then glance back at the ones growing on my brother’s grave. “You planted these,” I conclude. “Didn’t you?”
“They were Stephan’s favorite because they were my favorite; still are. Each time we met, he’d bring me one or three or a whole bunch. He always made sure I had a daisy in my hair,”she says, then shakes her head as if coming out of a distant memory. “I’ll ask again. What are you doing here, Clara?”
She doesn’t know I’ve been back for over a month now.
“I’ve got some personal matters to deal with,” I calmly reply. “Allow me to ask you again, as well, Margot. What areyoudoing here?”
Margot takes off her glasses, revealing anger and bitterness in her eyes. I know some of it is directed at me, though, for no good reason. “I loved him. Whatever you said to him, Clara…he’s not here anymore because of you.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hiss, the words rolling off my tongue before I can stop them. In the span of a split second, I lose my self-control and jump to my feet, ready to claw her eyes out. “You’rethe one who got him killed!”
Margot’s eyes go wide, glistening with confusion. “Stephan took his own life. You pushed him to it. Made him choose between his sister and his lover,” she says.
There’s doubt in her voice, like she’s unsure of the truth behind what she just said.
Margot hasn’t got a clue. For so long, I thought she was involved, but the shock she’s displaying, the baffled look on her face…she was never a good liar. I can see right through her. She’s not faking her reaction. I’m briefly reminded that it’s one of the reasons why Stephan was so in love with her. Despite her flaws, Margot was a bad liar. In Stephan’s book, it was the mark of a decent woman.
“You’ve got this all wrong,” I tell her. “Trust me, Stephan didn’t drive off that bridge because of me. If anything, you bear more of the responsibility than you’re willing to admit.Leading him on, making promises you failed to keep, over and over.”
“It was complicated!” she snaps, raising her voice, “more complicated than you’ll ever fucking understand! And don’t you dare judge me! I loved Stephan. I loved him so much that I still visit his grave every other day, making sure he always has daises to keep him smiling.”
Tears roll down her cheeks.
“Momma!” Matty cries out from the bench. “Code blue!”
