Chapter 11 - THE TRUTH DIDN’T MAKE REBECCA MY SAVIOR
For several weeks, I barely spoke to Rebecca.
People expected gratitude.
She had come back.
Found me.
Helped law enforcement.
Saved my life, according to family gossip.
That version made me angry.
Daniel understood.
“She did help.”
“Yes.”
“And she also stayed away while knowing Raymond had marked me.”
“Yes.”
Both.
Rebecca finally came to my apartment in Louisville.
She did not ask to hold Martin.
She sat on the sofa.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what part?”
“All of it.”
“Too broad.”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry I let you think I was dead.”
I waited.
“I’m sorry I helped Evelyn protect the property and convinced myself that meant you were protected too.”
Better.
“And?”
She looked down.
“I’m sorry I was relieved when Raymond chose you because I thought it meant he had stopped caring about me.”
That was the sentence.
Ugly.
Human.
True.
I sat across from her.
“I might never trust you the way I did when I was thirteen.”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to become Grandma Number Two because you came back.”
A small smile.
“I don’t want the job.”
“Good.”
Then she asked:
“What do you want from me?”
That was new.
No one in my family asked that.
I thought.
“Consistency.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
“Not rescue.”
“Okay.”
“Not secrets for my own good.”
“Okay.”
“Birthdays if you say you’ll come.”
Rebecca started crying.
“Okay.”
That was how we started.
Not forgiveness.
Scheduling.
Meanwhile Raymond’s legal problems moved slowly.
Unlawful confinement allegations.
Coercion.
Threats.
Property-related misconduct.
Financial issues.
Each required evidence and procedure.
Seth had his own exposure depending on what he knew and did.
Carol cooperated.
Linda’s conduct was evaluated separately.
No instant prison montage.
No single courtroom speech.
Reality was slower.
May you like
And in some ways harsher.
Everyone had months to sit with what they had done.
