Page 132 of Fraud
“I should have listened. And, now, it’s broken, and it’s all my fault.”
Instead of agreeing or scolding me on the spot for my behavior, she sat down next to me and grabbed my hands. Pulling the pieces from my clutched fingers, she placed them on the nightstand and examined my skin for cuts.
“It’s just a doll, sweetheart,” she said patiently.
“But it was special to you, and now, it’s ruined. Because of me. You should punish me. I deserve it.”
She took a deep breath, reaching up to wipe away my tears. “It was a doll I bought when I was little, so yes, she had some value to me. But not as much as you do.”
“You’re not mad?” I asked in confusion.
“Disappointed maybe. But mad? No. I should have locked the cabinet when you started asking about it. I should have known your curiosity would be too great to resist. You are, after all, my daughter.” She smiled. “But I think you’ve already punished yourself enough, don’t you think?”
Another tear trickled down my cheek as I shook my head.
“Believe me, sweetheart, this won’t be the last time you disappoint me or your father. And you know what? I’m sure, at some point, we’ll do the same to you. But that’s the thing about loving someone; sometimes, it requires a leap of faith. I know you’ll remember this moment and how you felt every time you walk past the curio cabinet in the hallway. No doubt you’ll learn from it.”
She was right.
I’d walk past that oak cabinet with the missing doll a thousand times before going off to college, and every time I had, I’d remember how she’d held me that day.
She was right about other things as well. I had succeeded at disappointing them a few more times along the way whether it was a bad test score or ignoring curfew, but they never stopped believing in me.
They never gave up.
I finally took a seat on one of the covered couches, listening as the plastic crunched under my weight. I’d held on to some of this for far too long.
It was time to let go.
Of the past, the pain, and the inability to move on.
I couldn’t stay locked up in the safe little world I’d created for myself.
Whatever path I chose from this moment on, Killian had at least taught me that.
The clickety-clack of heels had me turning my head toward the door.
Just on time.
“Some good memories in here,” Jane said, winding her way through the boxes and furniture toward me.
“Yeah.” I smiled.
“I’ll never forget how they welcomed me that first Thanksgiving, like I was a daughter.”
“You were,” I said. “You still are.”
Her hands brushed over the arm of the couch as she found a spot next to me, ignoring the horrible plastic cover. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
I took a glance around, my eyes traveling back to that curio cabinet and the now-empty shelves. “Yeah, I think so.”
“So, what is our next step?” she asked.
“I need you to get me on a plane,” I said.
She smiled, knowing how much courage that took for me to ask. “Do we have a destination in mind?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “New York.”
