I hadn’t seen my mother in over three years. Meeting her in the waiting area at the Martin County Jail was surreal, especially after everything I’d been through over the past twenty-four hours.
“Ebbie?” I said blankly.
My mother—Elizabeth Sheehy, née Conners, known to one and all as Ebbie—smiled, her eyebrows arcing. “What kind of a greeting is that? Come give me a hug.”
She held out her arms. She was wearing the flowing clothing she’d always favored. A long tunic over an even longer skirt, both in a purple-and-gray bohemian print. I moved woodenly toward her and allowed her to put her arms around me. She leaned back to eye me.
“You look terrible,” she concluded.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t be like that. You know what I mean.”
“I’ve been in jail, Ebbie,” I said. “Not a spa.”
My mother looked great, but then, she always did. Ebbie had been a beauty when she was young, with her luminous, faintly freckled skin and long, thick red hair. Even now that she was well into her sixties, and her hair was streaked with gray, she was still a striking woman. Annoyingly, she had always discounted her genetic good fortune and insisted that her appearance was the result of whatever her fad du jour was practicing—like Buddhism or guided meditation or chakra alignment.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I heard you’d been arrested, so I flew down late last night.”
“Ebbie put up the money for your bond,” Todd told me quietly.
I glanced at my mother. “You did?”
“Why do you sound so surprised? You’re my only daughter. And besides, I have a very generous heart. People are always telling me that.”
I wasn’t shocked that she would want to help. My mother, for all her faults, had never been miserly. I’d just never known her to have much money. Perhaps a hand-thrown pottery studio was more lucrative than I’d thought.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said. “Thank you.”
My mother squeezed my arm. “Don’t mention it. And I don’t want you to worry about a thing. I plan on staying with you throughout this entire ordeal. Now, let’s get you home. You look like you could use a shower.”
She hooked her arm through mine and pulled me toward the glass front doors. I was so tired, I let myself be swept along, even as her words started to sink in. I looked back at Todd, trying to communicate silently, What was that she just said about staying with us throughout? I saw my dismay mirrored in his expression.
I’m so sorry, he mouthed.
* * *
I fell asleep in the car on the forty-five-minute trip home. I awoke just as Todd turned onto our street. There were three news vans parked in front of our house.
“What are they doing here?” I asked.
The reporters and their cameramen had been milling around, chatting with one another or tapping on their phones. But as soon as they saw our car approach, they quickly mobilized. The reporters swarmed toward Todd’s Honda Accord, yelling out questions, while the cameramen hoisted bulky cameras to their shoulders and began to shoot footage of my homecoming. Todd ignored them and pressed the button to open the garage door. While we waited for it to rise, I could hear them calling out.
“Why did you kill Howard Grant?”
“Did Katherine Grant pay you to kill him?”
“Are you and Katherine Grant lovers?”
I looked up at this last one, shocked by the suggestion.
“Ignore them,” Todd said, pulling into the garage and closing the automatic door.
“Did you hear what that reporter just asked me?” I demanded. “What the hell is going on?”
Todd looked grim. “Your arrest has been a big story.”
“It’s how I found out,” Ebbie piped up from the back seat. “I saw it on the internet when I logged on to my email. Children’s Writer Arrested for Murder. I almost fell out of my seat when I saw your picture! Who is this Kat person, anyway?” She lowered her voice to a breathless hush. “Were you lovers?”
“Ebbie! God!” I exclaimed. The worst part was, my mother probably would have been thrilled if I’d had a lesbian affair. It had always annoyed her that I’d opted for a staid life in the suburbs.
“Don’t be so judgmental,” Ebbie chided.
I drew in a deep breath, held it for a few beats and exhaled. “What have Liam and Bridget heard?” I asked Todd as I climbed out of the car. I could still hear the reporters outside, yelling questions. Their presence was unnerving.
“They know that something’s up, obviously. But I kept them home from school today and turned off their broadband access.” He got out and walked around the car to take my hand in his. “We’ll have to tell them something, but I wanted to wait until you were home.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” I squeezed his hand.
“You have to tell them the truth,” my mother said, slamming her door shut behind her. “It’s important to be honest with children about everything.”
Ebbie once told me, in far too much detail, about the first time she’d had sex with a man after divorcing my father. I was ten at the time. Needless to say, I had not appreciated her honesty.
Todd knew my family history all too well, and he looked at me worriedly. But I was too tired and too relieved to be out of jail to rise to her bait.
“Let’s go inside,” I said wearily.
* * *
Liam and Bridget were in the living room, curled up on opposite ends of the couch, watching one of the Harry Potter movies. They jumped up when they saw me, and I hugged them tightly, tears stinging my eyes.
“I missed you so much,” I said, wrapping an arm around each of them.
“Where were you?” Bridget asked.
“Yeah, why didn’t you come home last night?” Liam chimed in.
“I’ll tell you about it later,” I said. “I need to shower and change and to lie down for a little while. What are you watching?”
“Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1,” Liam said. “We decided to have a Harry Potter marathon today, since we didn’t go to school. We’re going to watch Part 2 next.”
“TV rots the brain,” Ebbie said, hands on her hips. “The children should be outside, breathing in the fresh air, feeling the sun on their faces. That’s the problem with modern parenting. You all have your children hooked up to tablets or cell phones. No one experiences nature anymore. Let them live and explore and embrace life! Let them go fish, go to the beach and ride their bikes around having adventures until it’s too dark to see!”
I stared at my mother in disbelief. Had she already forgotten the news vans parked in front of our house? Forgotten that I’d spent the past twenty-four hours in jail?
“A Harry Potter marathon sounds perfect,” I said, turning back to my children. “I’ll make some popcorn for you later.”
My children’s cheers drowned out their grandmother’s tut-tuts, which I considered a victory of sorts.
“You’ve never listened to me,” my mother said testily.
I was too tired to argue. “I’m going to go wash up” was all I could manage.
In the bathroom, I peeled off my clothing, which now smelled like the jail, and threw the garments in the small trash can next to the sink. I turned the shower on as hot as I could tolerate and stood under the water until it started to run cold, only then soaping myself up and scrubbing the grime off my body. When I was done, I pulled on my soft white terry cloth robe and padded into our bedroom. Todd was there, lying on the bed, reading his emails on his phone. He looked up and smiled when he saw me.
“Hi,” I said, lying down next to him. Despite my short nap in the car, I was still exhausted. It reminded me of the scratchy-eyed, never-ending fatigue I’d experienced when my children were newborns. I knew I was going to have to sleep soon just to clear the fog from my mind. “How are the kids, really? Have they been upset?”
“Bridget had a hard time sleeping last night,” Todd admitted.
I wasn’t surprised. Bridget’s anxiety was always worse at night, when she was tired and her resistance low. I hated to think of her lying in bed worrying about where I was.
“What did you tell her?”
“Just that you had a late work meeting.”
“And she bought that?”
“I’m not sure. But I made her some cocoa and read with her. Eventually she got back to sleep.”
My world tipped and slid as I imagined a future in which I was convicted of murder, spending the rest of my days in prison. And not, as I gleaned from the previous night, in a place as cozy as the Martin County Jail. The state prisons were, according to the other prisoners, much less pleasant. And while I was there, living with murderers and addicts and gangbangers, my children would grow up without me. Todd was a good father. But could he do the work of two parents? Would he make their lunches every day and change their sheets regularly? Purchase Halloween costumes and fill Christmas stockings? Could he be me?
No. I was pretty sure he couldn’t. Which meant that I couldn’t go back to jail. Not ever, not even for one night.
“How are you feeling?” Todd asked.
“I’m pissed off.”
He laughed. “That wasn’t what I expected you to say.”
“Actually, I think, in a way, this has been a good thing. It’s better to be angry and ready to fight than to bow down to this bullshit.” I shook my head in disgust.
“Fight?” Todd asked. “Fight who?”
“Anyone who wants to keep me away from my family.” I was more specific in my thoughts. Thomas Wyeth. John Donnelly.
Kat.
“What was it like in jail?” Todd asked, turning to face me. “Was it scary?”
“At first.” I drew in a deep breath, remembering it all—the body cavity search, the time I spent in the pod, the hopeless despair that weighed down the prisoners. “And then it was mind-numbingly boring. And noisy. It’s never quiet. And it’s never dark.”
“Isn’t that a good thing? I would think bad things could happen in the dark,” Todd said.
“I’m not sure. I was in a pod with other pretrial detainees. It’s in everyone’s best interest at that point not to cause trouble. Physically, I was mildly uncomfortable. Mentally, it was a struggle.”
“I’m glad you’re home and safe.” Todd reached for my hand, folding it in his.
“I’m fine. Or I will be once I get some sleep.” I yawned. “I like Grace. She seems very competent. She’s convinced that the arrest was the police’s attempt to bully me into cooperating with their investigation.”
“Yes, I spoke to her this morning. She seemed very confident that they’ll drop the charges eventually. Anyway, she came highly recommended. And she was expensive, if that’s any indicator,” Todd said.
“Did you have to pay her a retainer?”
Todd nodded. “I did, but I don’t want you to worry about that.”
“Telling me not to worry is like telling me not to breathe.”
Todd smiled and held open his arms. I curled into him, resting my head on his shoulder and feeling the rise and fall of his chest. I couldn’t remember the last time we had lain like this. It was nice. Surprisingly, my night in jail was proving more effective than all our marital therapy sessions put together.
“I wasn’t sure what to do about Ebbie,” Todd murmured. “She just appeared out of the blue last night and offered to write a check. We needed the help. But then she announced she was moving in, and I didn’t know what to do.”
“That’s Ebbie. She comes at a price.” I shook my head. “I sound ungrateful. Coming here and offering this money is actually the nicest thing she’s ever done for me. In the past, she would have just sent me an email saying she was meditating on my finding peace and happiness.”
“Maybe people really do change,” Todd said.
“I’m too tired to be that optimistic.”
* * *
I took a long nap that afternoon and emerged from bed just in time to stop Ebbie from making a vegan mushroom-and-lentil shepherd’s pie for dinner.
“Liam and Bridget will never eat that,” I said.
“Don’t be silly. They’ll love it,” Ebbie insisted. “Children need to be exposed to new flavors.”
“Mushrooms make me gag,” Liam announced. He’d found a Frisbee somewhere and was twirling it on one finger. “Like, if I even see one anywhere near my food, I would probably hurl all over the table and on everyone’s plates and everywhere within ten feet.”
“Thank you, Liam, for that incredibly vivid image,” I said. “We’ll order pizza.”
“But I have everything I need to make the casserole,” Ebbie complained.
“That’s very nice of you, but Todd’s allergic to mushrooms,” I lied.
“He is?” This was Liam.
In my exhaustion, I had forgotten that children are natural truth detectors.
“Yes,” I said firmly. “He is.”
“Cool. Maybe I am, too.” Liam flung the Frisbee up so that it bounced off the ceiling.
“Liam, knock it off,” I said.
“Take it outside,” Ebbie suggested.
“No!” My voice shook. “Not outside. You can go play the Xbox if you want.”
Liam hurried off, not waiting to see if Ebbie could talk me out of letting him have the additional video game time.
“They’ve been inside staring at the television all day,” Ebbie protested.
I turned to her. “The reporters are still out there.”
“So? They’re not going to bother the children.”
“Don’t be so naive,” I said. “And besides, I used to watch television for hours when I was his age.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. You were always off with your friends, doing whatever it was you did, and you left me home alone all the time,” I said. “What did you think I was going to do?”
“That’s very disappointing to hear.” Ebbie made a moue of disapproval. “I would have hoped you’d use that time to improve yourself. To read poetry or learn to play a musical instrument or write in your journal.”
“Seriously? Mom, I was a teenager,” I exclaimed. “You’re lucky I wasn’t smoking pot and getting pregnant.”
“Am I?” Ebbie tipped her head to one side. “I’m not so sure about that. You might have benefited from some nontraditional life experiences.”
“So, pizza for dinner?” Todd asked, walking into the kitchen, before I could respond. Which, under the circumstances, was probably a good thing.
“Yes. Will you call it in?” I turned to him, happy for any excuse not to continue this conversation with Ebbie. “Get a veggie one for my mom, and then whatever the kids want. They usually want a supreme.”
“The children can eat vegetarian pizza,” my mother interjected. “All that meat isn’t good for them.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths.
Don’t react, I told myself. Stay calm.
“Just get a veggie and a supreme,” I said.
Todd went out for the pizzas. His departure caused a brief stir among the press still staked out in front of the house, but they quieted down quickly. I wondered how long they’d stay there. It struck me then that the press monitoring the comings and goings of my family was the least surreal thing to have happened over the past few days. My life had become unrecognizable.
Todd returned with the pizzas twenty minutes later and set the steaming cardboard boxes on the counter. I put out plates and napkins, and everyone helped themselves. Once we were seated at the table, I knew that it was time to tell the kids what was going on, or at least a version of it. I would have liked to do so without Ebbie present, but I didn’t see a way around it.
“I know you’re probably wondering why you stayed home from school today,” I began once I’d chewed and swallowed a bite of veggie pizza. I would have preferred the supreme myself, but the children certainly weren’t going to touch the veggie, and I’d already saddled Todd with a fake mushroom allergy.
“It was awesome!” Liam exclaimed. “Can I stay home tomorrow, too?”
“I don’t know.” I looked at Todd. “They have to go back at some point, right?”
“Just one more day? I have a science test tomorrow I’d like to skip,” Liam said.
“You’re not staying home just to miss a test,” Todd told him.
“Then why did we stay home today?” Bridget asked.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about,” I began again.
“Your mother had some issues she needed to work out,” Ebbie interrupted.
“Thank you, Ebbie, but I can handle this.”
“If Gram is your mother, why do you call her Ebbie?” Bridget asked.
Ebbie smiled fondly at her granddaughter. “You can call me Ebbie, too. I’ve never been comfortable with the labels or relationships our patriarchal society imposes on us.”
Bridget looked at me, confused by her grandmother’s rhetoric. I drew in a deep breath, pushing down my irritation that in the middle of everything I was going through, my mother’s presence was forcing me to deal with her tiresome, never-ending political posturing.
“Gram doesn’t like being called Mom,” I said. “She believes it devalues women by emphasizing childrearing as their most important contribution to society.”
“So should I call you Alice from now on?” Liam asked.
“No,” I said. “You will continue to call me Mom.”
“Yes, your mother has always been very clear that she has no wish to follow in my footsteps,” Ebbie said, dabbing at her mouth with a paper napkin. “She’s always disparaged my beliefs.”
I put down my pizza. “That’s not true. We’re just very different people.”
“Exactly. I’m open to the world and all its experiences,” Ebbie said.
“Which makes me what, exactly?”
Ebbie sighed. “I love you dearly, Alice. But you’ve always kept your feelings closed off.”
“That’s not true,” I said, bristling. “The fact that I don’t feel the need to talk about my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them.”
“Why don’t we get back on topic?” Todd suggested mildly.
I glanced at the kids. Liam had folded his slice of supreme pizza to make it that much easier to wolf down. Bridget, as always, had removed all of the toppings from her pizza and was eating it backward, crust to point.
“Where were you last night?” Liam asked.
I nodded and pushed my plate to one side. My appetite had disappeared.
“I’ll tell you. But first, I don’t want you to worry,” I said, looking at Bridget. I could instantly tell that this was the wrong way to begin. Telling my daughter not to worry just caused her to worry preemptively about whatever was coming. “Everything is going to be fine. But the truth is...I was arrested yesterday. I spent the night in jail.”
My children stared at me with such identical wide-eyed shock that I almost smiled. I didn’t often think the two of them looked alike, but every once in a while, there would be a moment when, with an expression or gesture, they seemed so similar.
“Cool,” Liam said.
“It certainly was not cool,” I said.
“You were in jail?” Bridget asked, her voice rising on the last word. She burst into tears.
After that, it took a few minutes to calm her down. She eventually crawled into her grandmother’s lap, even though she was far too big to do so comfortably. Ebbie didn’t seem to mind. She rocked Bridget as though she were a baby, stroking her hair and patting her back. Liam used the interlude to eat another piece of pizza, then fetch a third from the cardboard box on the counter.
“Don’t eat too much,” I cautioned him. “You’ll get a stomachache.”
“No, I won’t. I could eat that whole pizza all on my own,” Liam bragged. “Why were you arrested? Were you drinking and driving?”
“Of course not. Why would you ask that?”
“Because Mason’s dad did and he got arrested. I don’t think he had to spend a night in jail, though. I’ll ask Mason about it.”
“Please don’t.” I drew in a deep breath. “I wish I didn’t have to tell you this, but the police arrested me for murder.”
This bald statement silenced everyone, even Bridget’s weeping.
“You killed someone?” Liam asked.
“Of course she didn’t,” Todd said loudly.
“I don’t think the police even believe I had anything to do with it,” I said, hoping I was striking the right tone to reassure them. “My lawyer doesn’t think they do. She thinks they are just trying to pressure me so that I’ll cooperate with their investigation.”
“But why would they do that?” Liam asked.
I looked at Todd. Despite my nap, I was still tired, and my brain felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. Why hadn’t we made a plan for what to tell the children? This wasn’t a conversation to wing.
Todd nodded at me and said, “The truth is, and this is very unfortunate, the police sometimes use their position of authority to bully and intimidate.”
“That’s what they’re doing to Mom?” Bridget asked from her perch on Ebbie’s lap.
“You’re crushing your grandmother,” I told her.
Ebbie smiled and cuddled Bridget closer. “No, she’s not.”
“Who do they think you killed?” Liam asked.
Todd and I exchanged a look. I shrugged. It wasn’t like Liam couldn’t find out in five minutes on the internet.
“Kat’s husband. Howard Grant.”
“No way,” Liam said to me, his mouth dropping open like a cartoon character’s.
“Well, it will all be cleared up shortly,” I said. “But we didn’t want you to go back to school without knowing what was going on.”
“Do I have to go back to school?” Liam asked.
“Yes,” I said at the same time Ebbie said, “Of course not.”
I looked at my mother. “What did you say?”
Ebbie rolled her eyes dramatically. “It’s not like the sixth grade is so important that he can’t miss a few weeks.”
“Seventh grade,” Liam said.
“Whatever,” Ebbie said.
“Bridget, Liam, if you’re done eating, please clear the plates, then go to your rooms,” I said.
“I’m not done eating,” Liam said.
“Yes, you are,” Todd said.
“I don’t want to go,” Bridget moaned and snuggled into Ebbie’s arms.
“Bridget, do as your mother told you,” Todd said sharply.
Bridget gave him a hurt look but slithered out of Ebbie’s arms and stalked out of the room. Liam followed her, swiping a piece of pizza as he went. I was too weary to call him back.
“Ebbie...” I turned to my mother. “I appreciate your help, but please do not undermine me in front of my children.”
She looked surprised. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you understand that this situation is already difficult enough without you saying things like school isn’t important?” It was hard to keep my growing frustration out of my voice. “Of course it’s important. Not just the learning part, although that’s the biggest reason. But even more important is the stability and sense of routine it gives them.”
“And what about when their classmates ask them if their mother is a murderer?” Ebbie asked.
“Ebbie, please,” Todd said.
“You know it will happen. What then?” she persisted.
“They’ll have to deal with it if and when it does,” Todd said. “We’ll talk to them. Coach them on the best response.”
Ebbie looked at me. It was a coldly appraising look, as though she were seeing something there that she hadn’t before. “Did you have anything to do with it?”
“With what?”
“This man’s death.”
Todd inhaled sharply as though someone had punched him in the stomach.
I stared back at my mother while an icy fear seeped through me. Ebbie and I had never been close, but she was still my mother. If she didn’t believe I was innocent, who would?
“Ebbie, that’s out of line,” Todd said, suddenly furious. His hands were clenched into such tight fists, the veins in his arms were standing out.
Ebbie didn’t seem to hear him. She continued to gaze at me with that peculiar expression. And for my part, I found I couldn’t look away. I felt like she was slicing me open, revealing what I’d rather have kept hidden.
“You were always an odd child,” Ebbie said. Her voice was so eerie, the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. “You had a different sense of right and wrong. You were never bad, but you could be...cold-blooded is the only word for it. Like the time you found that baby rabbit the cat had gotten at and played with but hadn’t killed. Do you remember? It was clearly going to die from its injuries. You said we had to put it out of its misery. I couldn’t bear to do it. So you went and got the shovel and...just took care of it. Like it was nothing.”
The memory swam back. I did remember killing the rabbit, but it hadn’t been nothing. I couldn’t stand seeing it suffer, and Ebbie hadn’t been any help. After I’d euthanized it, I’d gone straight to the bathroom and thrown up until my stomach was empty. Even now the thought of it made me feel sick.
“Jesus Christ,” Todd exploded. He stood up, pushing his chair back so angrily that it almost toppled over. “That’s enough, Ebbie. Alice has been through enough. Look at her. She’s as white as a sheet! If you can’t be here without upsetting her, then you need to go.”
Ebbie shook her head slightly as though waking herself up, and then she gazed at my husband as though just hearing his words. “What? Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I’m here to help out, not to cause any distress.”
I stood, my legs shaky. “I’m going back to bed,” I said. “I’m still very tired.”
Todd moved around the table to put an arm around me. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softening.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Call if you need anything,” he said.
I nodded and walked stiffly out of the kitchen.
“Good night, Alice,” Ebbie called after me.
I didn’t answer. I was still trying to process the chilling fact that when my mother looked at me, she saw a potential murderer. I heard Todd mutter something in a low tone to her. Ebbie responded with a predictable shrill indignation, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. That was probably for the best, I decided.
I retreated to the sanctuary of my bedroom, where I lay down on our soft king-size bed and stared up at the still overhead fan. My brain was fatigued, but it fought at the numbness, too anxious to shut down. I reached for my phone on my bedside table, where I’d plugged it into its charger. It, too, had spent the night in jail.
I was surprised that my phone hadn’t blown up. I had twenty-three text messages. Most of them were nice. Or nice-ish. A sample:
Omg. R u ok? Lmk if u need me 2 cover school pickup.
Hope everything ok. Call if u need anything.
Just kill yourself now and save the taxpayers the cost of a trial, you evil freak of nature.
The supportive ones were from friends and parents of my kids’ friends, and many of them made awkward yet touching offers to help. The threatening and insulting ones were from unknown numbers. I wanted to delete them but thought I should probably show them to Grace first.
I also had a number of voice mails. These were mostly from the press, asking for an interview or giving me a chance to comment on a story or asking for my reaction to a story they had run without first asking for my comment. I listened to each one before deleting it.
And then, from a number I didn’t recognize:
“Hi, Alice, it’s Kat.” Pause. “I hope you’re okay. Please be okay. Anyway...we need to talk, but somewhere where no one will see us. I’ll meet you at the Jupiter Lighthouse tomorrow at 9:00 p.m. It’s closed then, but I used to sneak up there when I was a teenager, so I know how to get in. No one else will be there. We’ll be able to speak in private. I know that sounds paranoid, but with everything that’s going on, I am paranoid. I borrowed this phone, so don’t call me back on this number. If you can’t make it, I guess I’ll try to get in touch with you some other way.” Another pause. “I miss you. I’m so sorry about...everything.”
The message ended there.