She pushed the ring toward him.
“I visited an empty grave.”
I looked at her.
She wiped her eyes angrily.
“His name isn’t on it. Tyler told me the hospital arranged a private burial because everything happened so quickly. I used
to bring flowers anyway.”
My anger shifted into something heavier.
Grief for a woman I had believed, less than an hour earlier, had simply stolen my husband.
She looked through the window at Mason.
“He has my father’s eyes.”
Mason glanced toward us.
Vanessa quickly looked away.
Something about that gesture broke through the tension.
She wasn’t trying to claim him.
She wasn’t trying to take him.
She was afraid to even look.
I stood.
“I think Mason needs food.”
Tyler stared at me.
“That’s what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
“After everything I just told you?”
“Especially after everything you just told me.”
I gathered my bag.
“Mason is seven. Whatever chaos you created, his world does not stop requiring lunch.”
Vanessa gave a shaky laugh through her tears.
I opened the door.
Mason looked up.
“Are we done?”
“No,” I said. “But we’re leaving this room.”
at Tyler.
“Is Dad coming?”
Tyler stood.
I answered before he could.
“No.”
Mason nodded.
He didn’t argue.
That hurt too.
—
We ended up in a quiet corner of an airport restaurant.
Mason ordered chicken fingers.
He ate exactly one.
Vanessa ordered coffee and never touched it.
I ordered nothing.
My phone continued vibrating with messages from my sister.
DO NOT SIGN ANYTHING.
KEEP ALL COMMUNICATION IN WRITING.
BANK HAS BEEN NOTIFIED.
I’M FINDING SOMEONE IN CHICAGO WHO CAN MEET YOU.
Then:
CLAIRE, CALL ME WHEN MASON ISN’T LISTENING.
That message frightened me more than the others.
Mason traced circles in ketchup with the end of a french fry.
Finally, he asked, “Is Vanessa my mom?”
Vanessa looked at me.
Not possessively.
Not hopefully.
She looked terrified of answering incorrectly.
I put down my phone.
I chose each word carefully.
“I am your mom.”
Mason looked at me.
“Okay.”
“And
nothing anybody says today changes that.”
