Law, Lies, and Love Affairs

Things Fall Apart

Six years later . . .    

"Can we go home now?" The small voice echoed off the walls of a condo that suddenly seemed way too sterile.

Stephanie looked down at the little girl who was staring up at her, and felt completely unprepared to deal with the situation. Stephanie always knew the next move. She'd spent the last five years negotiating business deals around the world in five languages, and she knew the customs of every culture, the nuances of every negotiation. But the one thing she didn't know how to do was be "mommy."

Her sister Samantha had been a natural. From the moment she'd first held tiny baby Madelyn in her arms, she'd made being a single mom seem effortless.

But Samantha was gone. And Stephanie hadn't really even had time to mourn the loss of her twin sister. Instead, she was learning what a huge void there was between stopping in town three or four times a year as the exciting aunt with gifts from exotic places, and dealing with not only Madelyn's grief but the day-to-day business of raising her.

They'd been in the rented high rise Miami condo for almost three weeks now, and still each time they walked in the door Maddie had the same request: Can we go home now?

But the little house in Wisconsin wasn't home anymore. And although Stephanie had carefully recreated Maddie's bedroom here in the Miami condo – right down to the pretty lace curtains Samantha had made – Maddie still looked like a little lost lamb. It had been four months since the terrible day when Maddie had waited in the preschool carline for Samantha to make the short five-mile drive from the elementary school where she worked as a kindergarten teacher. And it had been an hour before the message got to the school about what had happened. One terrible moment by a distracted driver who ran a red light and broadsided Samantha in her small SUV. Her sister had died instantly. Maddie hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. And it had been two days before Stephanie could get to her, taking the first available flight from Hong Kong and switching planes five times before she finally arrived in Wisconsin, jet-lagged and heartbroken.

Four weeks later she'd packed up Maddie's room, and put the rest of the furnishings and decorations in the little house into storage, bringing along a few boxes of her sister's to sort through later. She'd paused over the stack of journals she'd found, wanting so badly to lose herself in the day-to-day thoughts her sister had written, but not able yet to face reading about the hopes and dreams they included that now would never come true. The boxes were still sitting in the back of her closet, untouched.

It was impossible to remain in Wisconsin, even though Maddie had cried inconsolably for days when they left. At first Stephanie had thought she could return to her old job after a three-month leave of absence. The first step was to set up temporary residence in a hotel in New York City where Stephanie had stayed before whenever she had a little downtime between deals she was handling through one of her firm's international offices. 

She applied for a passport for Maddie, and started looking into the logistics of hiring a trustworthy au pair who could return to Hong Kong with them and travel wherever Stephanie's job demanded. But she soon realized that wasn't going to work. Maddie got hysterical if she left the room without warning her. And she couldn't be a minute late or Maddie had a complete meltdown.

The therapist told her this kind of separation anxiety was normal after the loss Maddie had suffered – and the way it had happened – and that all the little girl needed was security and time.

Stephanie's vision of hiring a nanny to travel with them and seamlessly weaving Maddie into the fabric of her old life vanished in a puff of smoke. Maddie needed to put down roots – the one thing Stephanie had never had and never wanted - if she was going to thrive again.