Chapter 7 - Mom knew
I confronted Mom alone.
Naya was staying with her, but I asked Naya to leave for an hour.
She did.
Mom sat at the dining table.
Elegant cream sweater.
Hands folded.
Like she had been expecting a disciplinary meeting.
“When did you know Molly was Mike’s daughter?”
She looked down.
No denial.
“Claire—”
“When?”
“About three years ago.”
Molly would have been two.
I had still been married to Mike.
“Rebecca says you met her.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Mike came to me.”
“What did he say?”
“That he had made a terrible mistake.”
I laughed.
“A three-year affair and a child.”
“He said it had ended.”
“Had it?”
“I believed him.”
“Why did you meet Molly?”
Mom’s eyes filled.
“Because she was innocent.”
True.
“Did you tell Mike to tell me?”
“I told him he should.”
“Should.”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you had finally built a stable life.”
I stared.
“Stable for whom?”
“You.”
“No. Try again.”
She became defensive.
“You had Daniel. Mike was good with him. You had the house. Your career was going well.”
“And therefore another child could exist in secret?”
“I was afraid you would leave immediately.”
“I would have.”
“I know.”
There.
That was why she concealed it.
Not for me.
To preserve the arrangement she preferred.
“Did Naya know?”
“No.”
“She knew Rebecca had a daughter.”
“She did not know whose.”
“Did you tell Naya Rebecca existed?”
“Yes, years later. I said she was somebody Mike used to help.”
“You helped him construct that explanation.”
Mom’s face hardened.
“I never lied directly to Naya.”
I almost stood.
Then forced myself to remain seated.
“You lied to me every Sunday for three years.”
“I didn’t mention something.”
“There’s the family specialty.”
She flinched.
I continued:
“Did you know Mike and Naya were sleeping together before my separation?”
Silence.
There was more.
“Mom.”
“I suspected.”
“When?”
“A few weeks before you found the messages.”
“Did you ask Naya?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“That it happened once.”
“And you believed her?”
Mom looked away.
“No.”
My chest hurt.
“Then you watched both daughters live inside lies because telling the truth might cause a scene.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It is almost generous.”
She started crying.
May you like
I did not comfort her.
Not yet.
