Chapter Nine

WHEN I GET HOME, CARMEN IS SITTING at the kitchen table with a spread in front of her that looks fit for a banquet: three plates piled high with cinnamon donuts, oatmeal cookies, and banana chocolate chip muffins.

“Are we having a party?” I ask, sitting down and grabbing a muffin.

“No, I just wanted to make something nice for you,” Carmen says. She smiles at me, but her smile wavers. I put the muffin down.

“Just because?”

“I have to tell you something, Laney,” she says, twisting a strand of hair with her finger.

“Okay.”

“I’m leaving—” she begins, but her voice quivers. Her eyes fill with tears and she wipes them with the back of her hand, leaving a dark streak of mascara across her cheek.

“You’re leaving? Where are you going?” I try to imagine my life without Carmen in it. I think about coming home to an empty house every day, a house that’s too quiet without her laughter filling it. “You can’t leave Thornville.”

“Oh, Laney, I’m not really going anywhere. I’m leaving Walt.” His name comes out as more of a sob than a word. She wipes another streak across her cheek. For a moment I’m so distracted by the black marks on Carmen’s normally perfect face that I can’t process her words. I hand her a napkin and she dabs at her eyes.

“Does he know?”

“Yes, yes. I told him today.”

I don’t ask why. I know why. But Carmen tells me anyway.

“Remember when you were little and you said you saw me at my wedding? You were always such a sweet little girl, Laney. You still are.” She presses the napkin against her eyes and holds it there for a moment. “I want a wedding, Laney. Not just the wedding, I mean, but I want to get married, to live with you and your dad, to be a real family. Walt isn’t ready for that and I’m starting to realize that maybe he never will be.”

I look down at my hand and see that I’ve flattened the muffin under it. Crumbs scatter across the table.

“He’s not my dad,” I say, angry now. I clap my hand over my mouth. I’ve never told anyone that I know Walt isn’t my father. As upset as I am, I’m not ready to lose him.

“Oh, Laney, of course he’s your dad. Don’t say that,” Carmen says. I chew on a fingernail, relieved she didn’t take my outburst literally. “I know you might be mad at him—”

“What I mean is, it’s not right. It’s not fair to you or to me!”

“I know that he loves me, Laney, and he’s a good man. He has his reasons, but I just can’t—” She begins to cry again, unable to finish.

I wipe my muffin-smeared hand on my jeans. Then I pull my chair next to hers and lean my head against her shoulder. She leans her head on mine, her soft, chestnut brown hair falling over my face. She smells, as always, like perfume and cinnamon.

“I’ll still come see you sometimes, Laney. I talked to Walt about that already. I just won’t, you know, stay for dinner, or come over on the weekends or stuff like that. And for the next few weeks, I probably won’t come over as often in the afternoons because it’ll be hard for me to be here.”

“What are his reasons?” I ask her. “You said he has his reasons. What are they?”

She pulls away and looks at me.

“You know about Aster, Laney. He’s never really gotten over her.”

Aster is the name that Walt gave to my imaginary mother. I’ve never talked to Carmen about her, but apparently Walt told her the same story. Then I realize that maybe there really was an Aster and Walt really did love her. Maybe they even dreamed of having children together and then she died before they could.

“So, he loved her? And that’s why he can’t marry you?”

Carmen looks away. “Maybe you should ask Walt more about her. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but it’s only fair that you know about your mom.”

My stomach clenches. Walt told Carmen the same lie. She doesn’t know about the car seat or the yellow note.

The door opens and Carmen and I both look up. Walt is standing in the doorway. He looks like he’s aged ten years since I kissed him goodbye this morning. His bloodshot eyes glow like hot coals and his mouth is twisted unnaturally.

“I’m gonna get going,” Carmen whispers to me. She kisses my cheek before she goes. Walt steps back to let her pass.

“I’m sorry, Laney,” he says in a strangled voice. The door bangs as Carmen walks out.

“You should be!” I shout. I follow Carmen out. My stomach tightens as I climb the rungs of my tree house. I never argue with Walt. He’s always been good to me and I’ve never wanted to give him reason to regret bringing me in from that cold stoop. He took me when I was alone in the world and I’ll never forget that. It’s just that I don’t think I can stand to be in the same room with him tonight.