Maya (Book #3)

Chapter 60

I dug through my drawer and found the old, tarnished photo of my uncle holding me as a baby that I had stocked away. It was certainly nothing that would benefit the police because you could barely make out his body shape, but I could bring it just in case. It was probably better to have bad evidence than nothing at all. I jammed it into the pocket of my sweats, deciding not to zip it up in case I needed to put other evidence in there.

I tried to think of more proof that might exist, but I was out of ideas. There would be nothing in my bathroom or closet, and certainly nothing in my drawers. I sighed and gave up, sprinting down the stairs to meet Dominic. I paused at the bottom of the staircase, seeing Charlotte with her head in her hands on the living room sofa. It seemed like she was enduring something painful, so I walked slowly over beside her and sat down, placing my hand on her shoulder so she'd know I was there. She wasn't crying but she seemed to be ruminating and dispirited. I closed my eyes and sat there with her, wishing I could take her pain away. I didn't see her open her eyes and look at me with admiration and love.

She pulled me into a hug swiftly and I threw my eyes open, wrapping my arms around her as well. When we separated, I saw that her eyes were puffy, and her smile was drooping.

"It's okay to be weak," I told her, so she knew she could cry or frown in front of me without fear. Her eyes blinked as she tried to control the sorrow from overflowing.

"Didn't I teach you that?" she teased, brushing my hair back with her hand. I nodded, biting my lip, and looking down. I thought of the picture in my pocket and seeing myself as a baby reminded me of a question that I had to ask her. I couldn't tell if it was the right time or not, but we were alone, and I could almost hear a clock ticking in my ears.

"Charlotte- Mom, can I ask you something?" I probed, hoping she wouldn't think it was too invasive.

"Anything," she answered immediately. My uncle said she had secrets, but she read like an open book. Her posture was open to me, and her eyes were like clear windows, which secrets could never hide behind.

"The other day, you were telling me about how you became a therapist..." I croaked, clearing my throat as she nodded. "You mentioned your husband and his young son..."

I could hardly bear to look at her, too worried that I would see her fear of being discovered or anger towards me for bringing it up. Her face remained transparent, however, and that encouraged me to continue.

"When we met, you said Caleb was the son you had with your husband. But if that's true, then I don't get how... umm, I just don't get it." I babbled, too afraid to directly ask what the truth was.

She gave a slow nearly imperceptible nod and smiled, although there was something like embarrassment in her eyes.

"I probably should've told you this before, huh?" she asked with a light-hearted giggle, as if I was in on the joke and not terrified of her response.

"I mean, it's none of my business. I know that," I admitted, as curiosity burned inside of me.

"No, you deserve to know," she assured me, clasping my hand, and then hesitating. "My husband did come into our relationship with a child from another mother, which was little Caleb. His mother had passed away in childbirth which seems so... medieval but is still a potential danger that exists with pregnancies today. He was born a couple of years before I knew him but was still just beginning to understand the world around him when we met. I had Bella of course who was my biological child and just a little younger than him. Funnily enough, Caleb refused to be called my stepson or anything other than my real son. He and Bella thought of themselves as full siblings, and he wouldn't have it any other way. His father and I relented and allowed the minor deceit. Despite him not being my biological child, I raised him since he was a baby and I do think of him as my own child. I would like to think that his mother would be happy that I could help her family, despite not getting to be here with him." She said, radiating contentment. Relief flooded through me as she shared this story with me. I dropped my head as I processed all that information and gratitude filled my heart. I was so worried that Caleb would be shocked or disappointed when he found out, and here it was his own choice to have Charlotte fill the role of his mother.

"That's so sweet," I said softly, imagining Caleb as a little boy. It almost seemed to come to mind easier than my image of him now. He was so loyal and playful that seriousness and adulthood just didn't become him.

"I'm sorry you've been carrying this around since then," Charlotte murmured contritely. "I promise if you ever have a question, you can always come to me. I'll admit I haven't shared everything that has happened in my life with you, but we have time. I just don't want to scare you away just yet," she teased, with a mischievous wink. The light in the room wasn't bright, but I could see the faint wrinkles around her eyes and mouth that reminded me she had experience facing demons I knew nothing about.

"I understand that feeling exactly," I assured her. "Take your time. It's your story."

She gave me a pleased look that flushed through my body like a hot drink on a winter day. I could tell that she was proud of my answer and who I was becoming. Or maybe, who I'd always been.

Dominic came rushing down the stairs at once, bulging backpack slung over his shoulder. He was wearing his leather jacket and black jeans and he looked extraordinarily like the love interest in a dystopian teen movie. I giggled at the thought of some girl swooning over him, and he glared at me like he knew what I was thinking.

"What're you thinking, kid?" he said through squinting eyes, proving that he couldn't read my mind like he often pretended he could. His lips were pressed tightly together but his mouth was almost too straight, like he was trying to prevent himself from smiling.

"I was wondering how any girl could like you," I said angelically, smiling up at him from the couch. Charlotte slapped a hand to her face and groaned, knowing that a fight was about to begin.

"Oh, that's it," he roared, barreling over to me, and scooping me over his shoulder.

"Dom, put me down!" I demanded as he pretended to nearly drop me and kept walking. I attempted to get a good grip on him now, trying to stop him from doing it again.

"Say you're sorry," he demanded jokingly, walking us to the garage. I continued complaining all the way to the motorcycle and refusing to give in, thankful that he set me down before I had to. He started up the bike and I hopped on behind him, keeping my leg far from the exhaust pipe as it began to heat up.

In all the commotion, I forget to check that the picture was still safely in my pocket. I didn't notice that when Dominic had picked me up, it had drifted out and fallen to the floor, just beside Charlotte.