Page 94 of Quiet Beautiful Things

Sierra: He’s buying it, hook, line, and sinker. I’ve been texting Mom’s old phone for two weeks, sending pictures of me in New Zealand. After a week, I started acting worried, asking her why she wasn’t responding. Then today she did. I mean, he obviously did for her. Ellie, he doesn’t want me to know she’s gone. He probably thinks I’d assume he hurt her again, or worse. So he’s pretending everything is copacetic knowing I won’t be back in the states for months.

I lie back on Blake’s pillow, enveloped by the scent that has pleasurable memories bombarding me.

Me: That’s a relief. She’s doing well in her new job. I check on her a lot. She’s shy and reserved and keeps to herself, but she seems to be doing okay. I doubt she’ll truly be happy until she’s totally out from under his control.

Sierra: Do you think he’ll just give up eventually?

Me: I don’t know. Men like that need to win.

Sierra: I was afraid you were going to say that.

Me: We’ll think of something. In the meantime, have a great season. Don’t worry about your mom. I’ve got an eye on her.

Sierra: I can’t thank you enough. I can already tell a difference when I talk to her. She was never able to text so freely. She knew he would read them. It’s like I have a new mother.

Me: Just wait until she’s completely free of him—that’ll be a day for celebration.

Movement out of the corner of my eye surprises me. Blake is leaning against the bedroom doorway, a smug smile dancing across his face.

I sit up quickly, text Sierra goodbye and…well, shit,there’s just no way to recover from this predicament.

I throw an embarrassed hand across my face, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“Sorry,” I sign.

He laughs. “Don’t ever feel sorry for being in my bed. In fact, I think you should be here more often.”

I swing my legs over the side, stand up, and straighten the wrinkles. Then, shaking my head at my stupidity, I head for the living room.

I turn and sign, “How was it?”

He sighs and sits on the couch as if gathering his thoughts. My entire body tenses as my worst fears linger.

It takes him a good five minutes to text me the complete details of their meeting.

She’s dying?

She won’t be in Maisy’s life? Or Blake’s? I scold myself for the fleeting sense of relief that courses through my body. I shouldbe sad, not relieved. I’m disgusted with myself after processing how awful that must be for such a young woman. No matter how pitiful a parent she is, I vow never to be okay with another person’s misery.

Me: What are you going to do?

Blake: What do you think I should do? Do you think it would mess with Maisy’s head if I took her there?

Me: I’m not a psychologist, but I do have a lot of experience with deaf children and what they do and don’t understand, although Maisy has proven to be the most interesting by far.

“You mean the most difficult.”

Me: That’s not what I said. And I don’t think of it that way. To answer your question, I’m not sure. From what you told me, it seems that Lucinda and Maisy’s relationship may have been nothing more than warden and prisoner. She was neglectful to the point of it being a criminal offense, one she only got away with because she went to rehab instead of jail. Becoming sober has shown her the error of her ways. But that doesn’t mean Maisy will understand. How could she? It took a long time for her to understand you’re her father. One thing is for sure, Maisy will be confused. She may think you’re taking her back to live with Lucinda.

Blake’s jaw drops and he sits heavily on the couch, as if the weight of the situation finally hit him.

“What?” I sign.

After resting his forearms on his knees and taking some deep breaths, he texts.

Blake: I’ve been so consumed over what to do about this situation that I forgot what it means. Maisy is mine. I’ll have sole custody. She’ll live here with me. Forever.

I can see the battle in his eyes. He wants to jump for joy over the fact that there won’t be a custody battle. There won’t be visitation schedules and co-parenting arguments. No back and forth from here to the city. No frustrations if Lucinda doesn’t up her parenting game. At the same time, however, it’s only happening because Lucinda will be gone.

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