“Hope, you are going to Hell,” I whisper to myself all the way back to my home. I thought I was a horrible liar, but apparently I’m a nervous liar. Because, you insert my panic and I open my mouth and the lies just pile up on each other. On the bright side, I may not have to worry about what Aden’s going to do to me if he gets his memory back. No, I’ll die of a nervous breakdown and a subsequent heart attack way before that happens.

Once I make it inside I lock the doors and check on Jack. My heart hurts when I look at him. He’s somehow convinced himself that Aden is his dad.

When I first got here, and before Daria was able to help out, I was forced to put Jack in daycare. I hated every minute of it, but I stayed so busy there was just no other way. All the kids there had both parents for the most part and quite a few had their Dad’s pick them up. Until that time, Jack had never wondered about a father, he had never had one in his life so it didn’t enter in. I mean, he’s just a little over two, I thought I would have longer to explain things to my son.

Then this happened.

I’m the worst mother in the history of motherhood. There’s no other explanation. I’m screwing up my son’s life; I’ve already fucked up everything to try and take care of him and I’m probably going to end up destitute and living on the street and have Jack taken away from me. He’ll be given to someone else. I’ve heard horror stories about foster homes. He’ll probably get a family that’s mean to him and still, that’s probably better than what I’ve done.

At those thoughts, my closely knitted control snaps and tears just start falling. It’s the ugly cry tears too, as I sob out my misery. They’re huge raking sobs that hurt to release, but no matter what I do I can’t stop them. I can’t even control them when the phone rings. The best I can do is take a broken breath in between the sobs and eek out the word, “Hello?”

“Hope, honey? Are you okay?” Daria’s voice comes over the phone and her deep concern is evident in her tone, and just makes me cry harder.

“I’m not okay!” I blubber. “I’m a freak!”

“Hope—”

“He thinks he’s the father of my son, Dar! He…called him beautiful,” I whimper, in between tears. “Jack’s real father couldn’t even spare a moment to look at him and Aden helped put him to bed and just stayed in his room for an hour watching him sleep!”

“Uh…well he thinks he’s Jack’s father, honey.”

“I know, because I’m a horrible person,” I sob.

“You’re not horrible, you’re just a little confused.”

“I’m a lot confused,” I correct her, closing my eyes and leaning my head back.

“Where is he now, honey?”

“Back in his motel room, probably thinking I’m a freak…or he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Swear to God, Dar. I open my mouth and the craziest shit comes out of it. I thought I couldn’t lie, turns out I can and I do it in style!”

“I’m afraid to ask. You’ll have to tell me sometime when I’m not at work.”

“How is work?” I ask, only marginally crying now because hearing Daria’s voice helps me get control—at least a little.

“I work at the money center at Walmart and I work the nightshift. How do you think it is?”

“Fair enough,” I sigh, because I think it’s shit and I’d be right. She hates her job, but it pays the bills. There will probably be a day very soon when I wish I could get a job at Walmart, even the late shift and it will never happen—because I doubt even Walmart will hire women who have been in federal prison or locked up in an insane asylum. “Oh…”

“What?”

“Do you think pleading insanity would get me out of serving hard time?”

“I don’t know, but I can definitely vouch for the insanity part. You’re going to have to tell him, Hope.”

“I know. And soon, because I can’t have Jack getting really attached to him…”

“Yeah, that’s why you need to own up to the lies.”

“Sarcasm is not a good look for you.”

“Aren’t you afraid he’s going to find out your lies tonight?”

“How would he do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. He’s back in the motel and around his own clothes and belongings…his wallet?”

“Oh. I already have that taken care of. I went through the motel room before I left to pick him up. All his personal items are locked in my desk in the reception area. There wasn’t much. Just his wallet and it only had a few pictures in it…I couldn’t even find his driver’s license. Who travels without those?”

“Did you check his vehicle?”

“No…but I got his keys and parked it at the McDonald’s parking lot the next county over. I’ll check it out later.”

“McDonalds? Uh…why?”

“Because he’d wonder why he had a fancy car and I drive…”

“A junk heap?”

“It’s well aged,” I sigh.

“It’s a rolling wreck on wheels.”

She’s not wrong, so I don’t correct her. In fact, it’s so bad I didn’t even go get Aden in it today. I took Dar’s car and she kept mine. She swapped back out when she dropped Jack off.

“Okay, I’ve got a customer, but you need to prepare yourself woman. Come clean with your guest in the morning. Stop this madness before it gets worse.”

“I will,” I tell her, but even as I hang up I know it’s not that simple.

I’ve seen Aden angry. Even with no memory his first instinct was to sue. Can I really come clean and risk him destroying my life? Mine and my son’s? And besides that. Aden Smith is an asshole. He’s been an asshole since the moment he walked through my door. If you think about it, this is probably just karma biting him in the ass. I’m actually an agent for karma. Dishing it out and keeping the balance of the universe all good, really.

It’s a good pep talk….

I just wish I believed it.