Page 183 of Always Meant for You
“You were with my grandparents when I was at the police station after . . .”
Her hand covers mine, warm and steady. “I’m sorry you went through that. They said she probably died peacefully. Went to sleep and never woke up.”
I swallow hard, fighting tears. “My grandfather mentioned that when I asked about her.”
“You were so young,” she says gently. “But you were brave, Cal. Brave then and brave now. So I ask again, why didn’t you go with Mabel to New York City?”
“What would make you think she’d want me to go with her? We’re . . .” I can’t say we’re coworkers. I can’t lie. So I clam up.
Neither of us speaks for a good long while.
“I don’t know if you remember,” Betty says, filling the silence, “but you didn’t speak when you first arrived in Elverna. Not a peep.”
“I didn’t?”
“The first word you spoke in this town wasMabel.”
Another blurry memory surfaces. “It happened here, didn’t it?”
“That’s right. It was almost six months after you arrived. You and your grandparents were having dinner with the Muldowneys. Little Mabel was a toddler. She’d crawled out of the booth and somehow gotten her hands on a steak knife. You’re the one who called out. Said her name, clear as a bell.”
“I remember,” I say, recalling how I climbed out of the booth and sprinted down, my feet slapping the ground, Mabel’s name tearing from my throat.
“You’ve loved that girl nearly your entire life,” Betty says.
I stare at her, my jaw hanging open.
“And don’t you deny it,” she continues. “Years later, my sisters and I would see you in your truck, watching her wait tables. We’d see you follow at a distance when she’d walk home from work in the dark. You were always keeping an eye on her. Even when you were a kid.”
Betty squeezes my hand. “You love her, Cal. And she loves you. It’s been written on her face since she was in diapers. Now,damn it, boy,” she hisses. And sweet Christ, I’ve never heard this woman swear. “Why didn’t you go with the woman you love?”
This again.
“Betty, I don’t know.”
She slaps the counter. “You know. Say it.”
I shake my head, but all I see is red hair and dandelions.
“Tell me! Or God help me, I will crack that coffee mug into your head hard enough to knock some sense into you.”
“Because I was scared, all right? I’m scared,” I say, the truth scraping out of me.
Betty nods, the lines around her eyes softening. “Now we’re getting somewhere. What are you scared of?”
I exhale a ragged breath. “Myself.”
The truth hangs there, jagged and real.
“Why?” she presses.
There’s no use holding back now.
“I thought it was the city I couldn’t stand,” I murmur. “I told myself that city life is what hurt my mom. That Elverna was safe, and everything beyond it was waiting to swallow people whole. Then Mabel left, and that sealed it. My thinking, I mean.”
Betty takes a sip. “But Mabel came back stronger.”
“And I’m afraid I wouldn’t.” I gasp. There it is. The confession hidden deep in my heart and the root of my pain.
