Page 53 of Masquerade Mistake

I warm at his use of the word “let’s,” at his insinuation that this is our problem, not just mine.

For so many years, I’ve done everything on my own. I’ve had no one to rely on. I was forced to use my best judgement and ignore my fatigue as I figured out how to make ends meet when the work wasn’t coming in, or how to add more hours to my day so I could work and meet all of Finn’s needs, or still take care of my mother when I didn’t even want to be around her.

Maybe I’m done having to figure things out on my own.

Ethan takes over breakfast duty as I get Finn ready for school. By the time Finn’s hair is combed, the table is set with three plates of runny eggs and toast. I’d clued Ethan in on Finn’s preferences beforehand, and he did it perfectly—including the blonde piece of toast smothered in butter. Finn chatters easily over breakfast, unlike his usual grumpy morning self. I stay quiet, brushing aside the worries I have over my mom as I witness the cadence of Ethan and Finn’s conversation. It seems Finn’s let go of any resistance he initially felt over Ethan, and Ethan seems to have forgotten his hesitation over kids. At one point they both laugh, and my heart leaps at the similar way they throw their heads back and then end it with a dimpled grin.

If Ethan notices, he doesn’t say anything. When we say goodbye, Finn seems to hesitate at the door, glancing at me and then Ethan. My breath catches, and I wonder if this is the moment he’ll decide he’s not okay that I’m dating.

“Do you think…” he starts, and then stops. That’s when I realize what he wants…and that he doesn’t know how to ask.

“If it’s all right with you, I think we’ll wait with you at the bus stop,” I say, and his face lights up. He puts his hand in mine—and I do my best to act like this is no big thing. Seriously. No big thing that my independent son is actually wanting to be near me, actually holding my hand. Then he looks at Ethan and grins, and I just about melt into a pile of lovestruck mush. But if I so much as tear up, I know I’ll totally ruin the moment by embarrassing Finn. So I just let him hold my hand as he rehashes his favorite carnival rides he went on with Brie. Was that only a few days ago? Now we’re here, seeing Finn off like we’re a family.

It’s a sign. My heart lurches as I realize I need to tell Ethan the full truth. He deserves to know, and seeing how he is with Finn, I know it’s the right choice. Ethan is the right choice—for both of us.

The bus comes, and Finn hugs me even though everyone can see. He pauses when he looks at Ethan, who puts his fist out for a bump. Finn grins, pushing his fist against Ethan’s, and I have to look away so he can’t see the tears forming in my eyes.

As the bus moves away, I gather my courage with a few deep breaths. Ethan glances down at me, his face twisting into a question when he sees my emotional state. I take his hand, leading him to the house as my heart beats wildly. My hand feels sweaty in his, and I hope he doesn’t notice.

“We need to talk,” I say, my mouth feeling like it has marbles in it as I search for the right words. But I get no further than the door when I hear my phone ringing on the kitchen table. Mom. I release Ethan’s hand and race for the phone, reaching it just as it stops ringing.

“Damn,” I swear, picking it up. It’s the same number, multiple times. I hit the number, listening to it ring until it reaches an automated voice from the hospital. I listen as the voice goes through my options, but it’s interrupted by someone ringing through on the other line. I end the call and switch over.

“Hello?”

“Get me the fuck out of here,” my mother croaks in my ear. I grimace, glancing over at Ethan. My mom, I mouth to him, and he nods. He busies himself with cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

“What does the doctor say?” In my head, I’m right back to square one, wondering what the hell I’m going to do with her.

“I don’t care what that idiot man says. I want out of here. Why aren’t you here? You’re never around when I need you.”

I clench and release my fist multiple times, feeling my resentment build like rushing water in a bursting dam. “I had to get Finn off to school,” I say, but I can’t expect her to know that. What I do know is that her words are clearer than I’ve heard her speak in a long time, more forceful. When was the last time I’d experienced my mother sober? “We’re on our way,” I say. “We just have a few things to clean up before we leave the house.”

“We?” she asks, just as I realize my mistake. “I thought Finn had to be at school.”

“I’ll be there soon.” I hang up before she can ask any more questions.

Ethan drives us there, and I’m silent the whole time. If the doctor releases my mom, I have no choice but to bring her home. Will she sleep on the couch? Do I give up my work studio? What happens the first time she brings drugs into my home? Because it’s not a matter of if, but when.

“How you doing?” Ethan asks as he shuts the car off. I offer a shaky smile as my answer.

“Come with me?” I ask, and he nods. He leans over, cupping my chin in his hand as he presses his lips gently on mine.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. I press my forehead against his, letting out the breath I’d been holding. I don’t know how I’d face this without him.

He holds my hand as we cross the parking lot, and he doesn’t let go as we reach the front desk of the nurse’s station. The woman behind the counter directs me to my mom’s floor and room number, and then we’re in the elevator. I feel like a kid again as I grip Ethan’s hand. Scared. Unsure which mom I’m about to encounter. Who I’m going to bring home with me.

But when I reach the right corridor, I’m surprised to see a police officer outside the room the nurse told us to go to. I slow my steps as the police officer looks at me.

“Claire Myers?” he asks.

“Let her in!” I hear my mom scream from inside the room.

“What’s going on, Officer,” Ethan says, stepping forward while still holding my hand. I hang back, unsure what to do. The officer ignores Ethan, his focus on me.

“Your mother is charged with reckless burning under Penal Code 452 PC,” the officer says. All the while, my mother is screaming obscenities inside the room.

“But she didn’t do it on purpose,” I say, finally finding my voice.

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