Sunflower

Chapter 31

I've been flipping through channels since Chris left to get our food about fifteen minutes ago and so far, I've only come across one that isn't broadcasting my family. Finally, I turn the TV off and sit in complete silence.

Once my mother turned herself in and pleaded guilty by reason of insanity, all hell broke lose. The story was my mother blamed my father for Tommy's death and plotted her revenge. She wasn't insane at all, just a vengeful mother. And because a lot of people saw it that way, she became somewhat of an icon, especially in New York.

Frank Sunday let his autistic son drown in a river that was over a mile away from their home in Staten Island. A mother knows no boundaries when it comes to protecting her children. Frank Sunday was no different. He had to pay.

I can hear it in my head, over and over, on a loop.

If only she were some kind of a hero, like they're making her out to be. She didn't kill my father to avenge Tommy's senseless death. She knew it could've just as easily been her who let him die. Neither of them could be bothered by Tommy and all the time and energy her required. Mom was relieved when he died, not vengeful. That was one less thing for her to worry about.

I guess the people who aren't buying the vengeful mother story are going with the scorned lover story. Ex wife walks in, catches ex-husband with her close friend, loses her mind. All is justified in love and war, I guess. After giving years of your life to someone and bending over backwards to make them happy, the least they could do is not move on to a close friend before the ink on the divorce papers even had time to dry.

That story, I can relate to a little more. If Chris moved on as soon as we broke up, I can see myself getting crazy. Maybe not killer crazy, but enough that I could accidentally cause something to happen, like my mother did. Or at least, that's what I'm telling myself.

I look up when there's a knock on the door. Chris wouldn't knock and anyone else I know would have called or texted before just showing up. Unless...

Oh no. It's Detective Cassady.

My heart starts to pound. I stand up hesitantly, thinking about whether I should answer or just pretend I'm not home.

He knocks again and I start towards the door. This can't be bad, right? My mom turned herself in and the case was closed. He's probably only stopping by to tie up some loose ends.

Or arrest me for being a murder accomplice.

I use the peek hole on the door, but I can't really see much. It doesn't look like Detective Cassady, so I unlock the door and open it just a crack.

"Jenny?" I swing the door open, furrowing my brows in confusion.

"Lucy, I'm so sorry. I don't mean to be a bother," she sighs.

"Chris isn't here right now."

"I'm not here for Chris. I'm here for you," she says quickly.

"Me? Why?" I ask, pointing to myself in confusion.

She looks around uncomfortably. "Can I come in?"

I nod, stepping aside to let her in. "Have a seat," I tell her, motioning to the sofa.

She walks over and sits down, her short green dress becoming even shorter. She has really nice legs too. The thought of this gorgeous woman being on the other side of the world with Chris for weeks makes my stomach turn. He said he never slept with her, but I'm not sure I believe that. I mean, even I kind of want to sleep with her.

I sit down on the arm chair and wait for her to tell me why on earth she'd be here to see me.

"You are a very lucky girl, Lucy," she says quietly, hanging her head as if she's afraid to look at me.