Chapter 3 - Rebecca
That changed everything again.
“You know her?”
Naya stared at the carpet.
“Rebecca Monroe.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“She worked with Mike?”
“Years ago.”
“What kind of work?”
Naya looked toward the closed door.
Then:
“She was his girlfriend.”
My stomach tightened.
“When?”
“Before you.”
Mike and I had met eight years earlier.
“How long before me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Naya.”
“College maybe. After college.”
Daniel was listening.
Too much adult history.
I touched his shoulder.
“Sweetheart, can you go sit with Grandma Ruth in the kitchen?”
Ruth was my aunt.
My mother’s sister.
One of the few adults in the family I trusted.
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“I need to talk to Aunt Naya.”
“I found it.”
“I know.”
“I want to know.”
That sentence hurt.
But he was ten, not four.
And Mike had helped raise him.
He already belonged to the emotional consequences.
So I compromised.
“You can stay. If the conversation becomes inappropriate, I’m stopping it.”
He nodded.
I looked at Naya.
“Continue.”
She rubbed her belly.
“Rebecca and Mike dated for years. On and off.”
“How do you know?”
“Mom mentioned her once.”
Of course Mom had.
“And Molly?”
“I’ve never heard of Molly.”
Daniel said:
“She calls him Daddy.”
Naya closed her eyes.
“Please.”
He stopped.
I asked:
“When did you last know Rebecca was in Mike’s life?”
“Before you got married.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Naya looked at me.
There.
Another hidden piece.
“Naya.”
“Mike got a Christmas card once.”
“When?”
“Maybe four years ago.”
During our marriage.
“Where?”
“Mom’s house.”
My mouth went dry.
“Why was his mail at Mom’s?”
“It wasn’t his mail. Rebecca sent a card to Mom.”
“What did it say?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Naya.”
“She wrote something like, ‘Thank you for always being kind to us.’”
Us.
“What did Mom say?”
“That Rebecca was having a hard time and Mike occasionally helped.”
I stood.
“Mom knew.”
“I don’t know what Mom knew.”
“What did you know?”
“That Rebecca had a child.”
There.
Naya had known a child existed.
“Did you know Mike was the father?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Naya laughed once.
It sounded close to panic.
“Because four years ago he was your husband.”
Exactly.
So the possibility had been too ugly to investigate.
Familiar family technique.
If truth threatens the arrangement, label curiosity inappropriate.
Outside, Mike knocked.
“Claire.”
I ignored him.
Naya whispered:
“He told me Rebecca’s daughter belonged to someone else.”
“When?”
Her eyes met mine.
“Two months ago.”
I stared.
“You asked him two months ago?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
May you like
“Because I found a bank transfer.”
Now we were somewhere else entirely.
