Page 71 of Enemies to Lobsters
It’s Shelly. I don’t think I can handle her right now. I drag the backs of my hands under my eyes. “Ike isn’t here.” I congratulate myself for answering clearly and politely, even though I have no love to lose with this woman. “He’s at work.”
Her footsteps grow closer on the wrought iron stairs. “I'm here to see you, actually.”
Dread fills me. After last night, I can imagine what she wants to talk about. She finally reaches the lantern room, winded and carrying a brown paper bag. She holds it out.
“A whoopie pie, and one of Marlow’s breakfast burritos.” Her weathered eyes crinkle at the corners. “You need more protein.”
This has Ike written all over it. “Did he ask you to do this?” It would be a very Ike move to send in reinforcements on a morning like this.
“Ike?” She shakes her head. “No. I haven’t known you for long, but I’ve noticed things.”
She does. I lower myself on the top step, and Shelly sits beside me. I peek into the bag, removing a foil-wrapped burrito. “Thank you for this.”
She nods.
I feel her eyes on me while I unwrap my breakfast.
She clears her throat again. “Did you know I was principal of Cape Georgeana High School for eighteen years?”
Mouth full of burrito, I shake my head.
“Yeah. Before that I was the assistant principal, and before that I was a teacher. Over the years, I’ve gotten to know hundreds of kids from so many backgrounds. I noticed a pattern.” She chooses her words carefully, gauging my reaction. “I’m going to be straight with you. When a child is abandoned by a parent—one, or both—there are always consequences. Anxiety, depression, poor self-esteem, hyperindependence… Among other things.”
Check, check, check, check. I swallow. “Okay?” I have plenty to say, but the tenderness in her eyes and the knot in my throat stops me short. I take another bite of my burrito.
“I heard you last night. I talked to your mother. And, well…” She also heard me screaming two minutes ago. “Some things clicked into place.” She releases a long exhale, and when she goes silent my gaze snaps to hers.
Her eyes are watery under her furrowed brow. “Diana, your mother’s choice to be absent was her mistake. You are worthyof love. And you are loved by so many people. I’ve watched you with Ike, and…”
I pinch my eyes shut, clenching my teeth together. Hot tears spill under my eyelashes.
“Your worth didn’t change because you were abandoned. You are like this lighthouse—so beautiful, so loved, but so mistreated. You deserved better care.”
My eyes flash open. How does this woman—who didn’t want me anywhere near her son twenty-four hours ago—see me so clearly? I can’t speak past the lump in my throat.
“Ike says you were sad when you came back.” She clears her throat. “I’m going to ask you a few hard questions. Would that be okay?”
I nod, terrified.
“Is it possible that you’ve struggled with depression, Diana?”
“I-I don’t know.” I ponder my life in New York and realize it’s a distinct possibility.
“Have you had any dark thoughts? Thoughts that might put you in danger?”
“You mean, have I…” I can’t say it, but I know what she’s getting at. I shake my head. “No, nothing like that.”
Relief washes over her face. “Okay.”
I take a bite. “But I did run over Ike’s mailbox, if that counts,” I say around my burrito.
“Maybe.” She snickers, bumping my shoulder with hers.
“I’m sorry about the mailbox,” I say. Not really, but I’ll work on being remorseful.
“I’m sorry about my son,” she says with a laugh, and I can tell she doesn’t mean it either. She meets my eye. “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I was wrong.”
My reflex is to tell her that it’s okay, but that’s not true. I’m willing to let it go, though. Everyone deserves a second chance. “Let’s leave the past in the past. Start over.”
