Page 65 of Baby One Last Time
I stared down at the black screen. I’d never called my mom before a job, although I usually texted her an “I love you” on the way and always got an instant response back with the same sentiment. Today, I needed more than texts. I pressed her number and sank down on the edge of my bed.
“Hi sweetie.” I heard background noise like she might be at a party. “A second call in one week. That’s a treat.” When your mom says that, you know she means it.
“Hi mom. It’s a treat for me, too.”
She’d found a quieter spot. “Oh, I can hear it in your voice. You have the holiday blues.”
I guess I did when I was talking to her. “The twenty days of winter celebrations aren’t the same without you and Aunt Anita. How are you both?”
“We’re having quite the good time.” Now I could hear it in her voice—Mom was a little tipsy. “I had a little soiree last night for Christmas Adam and she’s throwing a shindig tonight for Christmas Eve.”
I could picture them in Aunt Anita’s smart, downtown apartment, surrounded by the friends they both collected wherever they went. The Kessler sisters were much beloved. Especially by me. I wiped away a tear and smiled to force happiness into my voice. “I’m going to come see you soon, I promise.”
“I hope so. You’ll love Seattle. And you sound like you need a vacation. Work isn’t everything, Cynthia. You need other things in your life, too.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You joke, but if I could order you to have fun, I would.” Now she sounded a little weepy.
I sighed, knowing I shouldn’t tell her, not yet, not with so much unresolved, but I needed her to know there was hope for me.
“Do you remember that guy I told you about over the summer, Derek?”
“I do. I thought things hadn’t worked out.”
“They hadn’t.” I closed my eyes, almost afraid to say it out loud. “But that might be about to change.”
“Sweetie, that’s wonderful! Will we get to meet him soon?”
“Maybe. I hope so.” As soon as I got him out of the life-threatening debacle I’d dragged him into.
“I think this man could be good for you. Help you have some fun.”
“I agree,” I said.
Derekwasgood for me. Even when he should have been off-limits, he’d been my true north. He’d been my lover, the best partner I’d ever had, and my best friend. Mai was shaping up to be my second-best partner and might even be decent friend material one day. My only other HEAT partner had paled in comparison to both of them. How hadn’t I seen it at the time? What else had I viewed through my warped lens? Something had been tapping at my brain since Derek had told me to stop taking the blame for Henderson.
“Hey Mom, I know we don’t talk about it, but...about that thing when I was ten...”
“You mean the fire?”
I let out a long breath. “Yeah, the fire I caused. I don’t think I ever thanked you for covering for me.”
“Covering for you?”
“You know, not telling the fire department I was trying to cook and was stupid enough to walk away from the stove. For not telling all the neighbors it was my fault some of them lost their homes and their stuff.”
“Cynthia...” She was quiet for a minute. “I don’t understand. Did you think I lied to all those people?”
I was trying to thank her, but all I’d done was insult her. “Not lied, just... Covered for me.”
“Sweetie, I didn’t lie or cover. I told the fire chief everything, and the police. And the neighbors knew it started when you’d been trying to cook dinner for me because you pulled the fire alarm in the hall and banged on everyone’s door telling them what was happening.”
“I... I did that?” I had a vague memory of the bright red switch on the hallway wall, of knocking on someone’s door. Maybe I’d talked to the nice old lady who’d lived next door with the fluffy white cat I used to pet each day after school.
“Yes, you did that. The therapist said not to worry that you hadn’t held onto the details. That happens in a trauma. And you never asked. I assumed it was best not to bring it up.” She cursed at herself. “What was I thinking? I’m a nurse. I should have realized the depression you had those first months after it happened were related to guilt. But sweetie, it was an accident.”
“I...” A few fuzzy pictures of that night came back to me. The thing I’d avoided doing all these years, talking about it, triggered a few vague, elusive memories. “Was I holding a cat at some point?”
