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.
