Chapter 10

Talia

The next morning was a particularly humid one for June. I pulled myself from the bed, conscious to walk softly past Lily-Rose’s bedroom so as not to wake her. Downstairs, I brewed a pot of coffee, standing in just a pair of shorts and a bra and flipping through the paper. God, it was so early that my mind hadn’t even turned to anxious thoughts of the day, yet. I was still humming along in dream world, not ready to acknowledge that Fox and I couldn’t be together, despite both of us feeling so much.

My phone buzzed on the counter: Andrew. Irritated at the way he’d affected Fox, I initially ignored it, only to have it ring again, then again.

“What is it?” I asked him, sounding brazen.

“Talia, don’t do this,” Andrew sighed. “I know you’re still hanging around my brother. But this call isn’t about that.”

“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes toward the window. Outside, a woodpecker strutted along the bird feeder, making it quake. “What’s up?”

“I don’t suppose you remember Chris Campbell, do you?” he asked.

“You think I’d forget Lily-Rose’s father?” I asked, almost guffawing. “That asshole. You aren’t telling me he’s back in town, are you?”

“No, I mean. Hmm. How do I put this?”

“Just spit it out, Andrew,” I said, anxiety making my throat grow tight. “I didn’t even hear from him when Billie died. I tried to get word to him. I messaged him on social media and everything, but no response. They dated for three years before he left!”

“He was always no good, Talia. But this time, he’s gotten himself into quite a bit of trouble,” Andrew sighed. “He was caught trying to rob a grocery store in Tennessee where he’s been living with his mother. And he was actually just sentenced to a year in prison.”

“Oh.” The news felt like a smack across my cheeks. I fell against the counter, thinking about the anger that so often flashed behind Lily-Rose’s eyes. Was that anger passed from her father? Was her temper just an off-shoot of whatever chaos was in Chris Campbell’s mind?

“He was always sleazy,” I continued. “I remember once Billie told me that he stole a bunch of lab equipment from the school because he wanted to make his own ecstasy. Of course, he never really figured it out.”

“Ha. Not the brightest guy, no,” Andrew said. “I never spoke to him much. But Fox had a brief friendship with him, I remember. But they were both so moody, and they had some kind of falling out.”

“Right,” I said, the memory making a smile flicker across my lips. “Chris was going to learn bass to be in the band, but he bailed. Fox was livid.”

We sat with the memory for a moment, both swimming in our own versions.

“You don’t think I should tell Lily-Rose about this, do you?” I asked. “I’ve hardly told her anything about her father. Just that he lives far away.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Andrew said. “I was just at the diner and met this woman. Sixty-something, wild blonde hair, telling everyone she’s here to finally meet her granddaughter. Seems that Chris told her about Lily-Rose when she visited him in prison last week, and she’s decided to seek out her kin. Of course, Walt can’t keep his mouth shut, and told her almost immediately.”

“Oh shit,” I whispered, my voice harsh. “No.”

“You might have a visitor. Probably today, I’d imagine,” Andrew said. “I’m sorry about this.”

I hung up the phone, my heart pumping. Since Billie’s death, I hadn’t had to share Lily-Rose with anyone. She’d been my strange, volatile child, and my only source of heart and love in this world. Her grandmother, a woman I’d only heard of in passing, had driven six hours to see her.

Lily-Rose’s temper, her wild anger—it was so hard to explain. How could I possibly introduce her to someone like this? How could I explain that her father was in prison? How could I explain that he’d never bothered to make it all the way here before getting himself locked away? That he’d never bothered to even meet his own daughter.

Just before noon, the wild-haired sixty-something woman appeared on my doorstep, wearing a bright pink dress that revealed a flash of cleavage. Behind her large, round sunglasses, she grinned madly. I opened the screen door just a crack, blinking into the loud chaos of her look. I wanted so badly to tell her to leave us. To just go.

That she didn’t belong.

“Hi. I’m Evelyn,” the woman said, thrusting her manicured hand forward. “I’m sure this is quite a shock to you. But you see, I’m Lily-Rose’s grandmother. Her other one.”

Feeling armed only with my Midwestern politeness, I shook her hand and gave her a smile. “Wow. Evelyn. So you’re Chris’ mother?”

“That’s right,” she said, gazing past me into the living room, analyzing it – the toys strewn in the corner, the upright piano, the mess, the dust. “I don’t suppose I could meet Lily-Rose, could I?”

“She’s upstairs,” I told her, remaining in the doorway. “Can you tell me… um… can you tell me why you’re here? It’s just, we haven’t heard from you at all. Not since Billie passed away.”

Evelyn grimaced. Drawing her sunglasses from her nose, she contemplated for a long moment, hunting for words. “It just makes me sick, but Chris didn’t tell me anything about Billie’s pregnancy, or her death. Not until now. So—“ She smacked her free hand on her thigh, making it jiggle. “I’m here. I want to be here. I want to know the only kin I have left. Won’t you let an old woman have that?”

As if on cue, Lily-Rose scampered down the steps, her wild hair flying behind her. She swept toward the door, placing her fingers on the screen and staring out. Evelyn leaned toward her, her eyes hungry.

“What a beautiful child,” she cooed.

“Who are you?” Lily-Rose asked.

“Well, honey, I’m your grandma,” Evelyn said brightly.

“Grandma?” Lily-Rose sounded incredulous, yet eager. She darted around me to stand on the porch, placing her hands on either side of her overalls. She leaned into her toes, tilting up. “I didn’t know I had a grandma.”

“Well, you do,” Evelyn said, almost sneering. “And I’d love to take you to lunch, if your Aunt Talia here will let you.”

“Burgers?” Lily-Rose said, her eyes sparkling. “Can we have burgers?”

“Why, we can have whatever you want!” Evelyn beamed up at me. She was a lonely, tired woman. A woman who’d just lost her son to prison, and learned of a new hope in this granddaughter.

How could I rob her of that?

“Okay. Sure. But only if I can come along,” I said, lending a false smile. “And then we’ve got to get back, so you can practice the piano. No getting out of that.”

“Ah, just this once, she can skip,” Evelyn said, tossing her hair behind her shoulders. “Not like she’ll be any concert pianist, anyway. There are no musicians in my family.”

I wanted to yank Lily-Rose back inside. But instead, I followed the two of them as they chit-chatted toward Evelyn’s turquoise minivan. Evelyn leaped into the front seat, with Lily-Rose in the passenger. I sat in the back, watching as Evelyn drew out a package of chocolates, passing one to Lily-Rose.

“Lily-Rose, not before lunch,” I sighed.

“Come on. The girl can have a little bit of fun. She’s with her grandmother now,” Evelyn cooed. “There aren’t as many rules with grandmas. That’s what all my friends do with their grandkids—spoil ‘em rotten.”

Lily-Rose shoved a second chocolate into her mouth, chewing rapidly. Tiny bits of caramel oozed from between her lips. Her eyes were dead, like a shark’s, hungry for more.

“You know my daddy?” she asked Evelyn.

“Your daddy is my son,” Evelyn said, nodding, her voice smooth. “He’s a good man, your daddy. He wants to get up here as soon as he can to be with you.”

My fists clenched, and I pressed them against my thighs, anxiety filling me. Who was this woman, with her empty promises? Why was the world so eager to say it was one way, before taking it all back?

The lunch dragged on in a similar fashion, with Evelyn speaking boisterously, confidently about her son and his apparent “visit.” Lily-Rose grew increasingly aware that Evelyn wanted to spoil her, even opting for an ice cream sundae after her mighty burger. She slurped at it, drawing her tongue over the spoon. The clock on the wall ticked toward two in the afternoon. I realized I hadn’t said a single word in hours, besides, “Lily-Rose, please be polite,” or “Lily-Rose, remember to wipe your mouth with the napkin, not your hand.”

But it was clear the old woman wasn’t a menace. So, when Evelyn turned her eyes toward me, so hopeful, and asked if she could take Lily-Rose out for a bit that afternoon, “just the two of them,” I found myself saying yes. I hadn’t been allowed a moment alone in weeks. It had been a constant spin of bake sales and food drives and homeless shelter shifts, as well as paid shifts at the pharmacy. I was strung-out and bleary-eyed. Exhausted.

“Sure. That’s fine,” I sighed, sliding from the diner booth. I gave Evelyn my phone number and kissed Lily-Rose on her sticky cheek. “Just have her back right after dinner. She normally goes to bed by eight. And, um, Evelyn?”

Evelyn blinked wide eyes at me. They looked like fish bowls.

“You don’t need a place to stay, do you?” I asked, my throat growing tight.

“Oh, goodness, no,” Evelyn cackled. “I’ve got a room at a bed and breakfast across town. Don’t worry yourself with me, Talia.”

The words seemed almost cruel, despite their honesty. I drew myself from the table, darting toward the front door. I could already hear Lily-Rose and Evelyn begin to whisper. What was brewing between them? Was this something I wouldn’t be able to control?

And the way Evelyn was allowing Lily-Rose to act: eating burgers, chocolates, doing whatever her heart desired? Was that something I would allow?

Was I up to this? Being the “mother” to this child? The past six months had nearly done me in, forcing me to question exactly what I was capable of. I was twenty-nine-years old, but I felt more alone than ever, with the weight of this girl’s future on my shoulders.