The Trust

Chapter 25: Look Up

It's a warm night for November, but not exactly balmy. I pull on warm track pants, a hoodie and a wool hat. My house has a gently sloping roof that's easy to reach from my bedroom. I go down and let Jake in the front door. The lights are out and Mom is in bed.

Giggling, we make our way to the roof, earning a sharp rebuke from my mother.

"Darcey, is that Jake?" she shouts from her bedroom. "You kids keep the noise down, or Jake'll have to go home." We laugh, feeling like teenagers.

"You're not going up on the roof again are you? Don't come crying to me if you fall and break your necks."

"We won't Ma," Jake yells, as we head up the stairs and on to the roof.

I sit with my knees up, balancing with my hands behind me. The stars are clear and sparkling but only in their ordinary beauty. I don't see anything astonishing, and doubt that I will. But the evening is pleasant, so I don't mind sitting out.

"There's nothing happening," I say, after a few minutes.

"Just wait. You'll see it," Jake says. While we wait for this phenomenon to happen, I tell him everything — about Clive and his latest betrayal, his pestering me to sell the house, my decision to finally get a divorce and the new levels of villainy my uncle has reached.

"I can't believe the man. Robbing his own family of their meagre pensions and savings. They don't see it. And there's not a damned thing I can do to stop it. In fact, I'm being called the negative one for calling it out!"

"Holy shit," he says, genuinely shocked. It takes a lot to surprise Jake, he's heard it all. "I mean, I knew it was a hoax from the start, but like you, I thought someone was tricking him. Pulling this scam on his own family is some seriously heinous shit. I know hard core criminals who'd never do this to their own family."

"I know." I fish a maple glazed out of the box and bite into the sugary goodness. I realize in all the commotion I haven't had anything to eat since lunch. "Mm, donuts for dinner."

"Some days just call for it," he says. "By the way: full disclosure, I ran into one of your uncles at the grocery store and he told me about the whole set-to. Just wanted to make sure you were OK."

"I'm not OK but thanks for asking," I say, taking another bite. "The sugar is helping."

The wind is sharp, but I feel buffered from the cold in my warm clothes. Being out that late at night while the town sleeps feels novel and a bit dangerous.

Jake tells me I'm better off without Clive but thankfully restrains himself from saying 'I told you so.' I wouldn't have blamed him if he did. I gave Clive chance after chance and for that I was foolish. But once you know something, you can't go back and not know it again. And I knew, finally, that he didn't love me, and I would never change that. And I deserve more.

Clive and I were truly done, but the thought of all the next steps was exhausting. How was I going to do it? I barely had enough energy to wash the dishes, let alone explode my life. But it had to be done, so somehow I had to find a way to do it. If not for me, for my kid who I knew would be better off with two happy, separate parents instead of this house of misery we've constructed.

"You won't have to go through it alone. I'll help you, you know. Any way I can," Jake says, fishing in the box for a second donut. He chooses a Boston crème and dives in with relish.

"I know," I mumble, closing my eyes for just a second, finally letting fatigue take hold. All the fresh air is making me tired at last. "Thank you."

"I mean it. Things will be hard over the coming weeks and months, but not harder than what you've been living. Everything will be OK." When I open my eyes, he's licking his fingers, looking like a little boy in a candy store. It makes me smile.