Dear Tabitha (21 page)

“Where do I begin,
cara
?” She takes a deep breath to collect herself. It feels strange to hear her use her Italian term of endearment for me. “I’ll start from the beginning – the day after you found out you were pregnant. When I got enough courage to tell Tony about it, he lost his mind. He did not want children. He didn’t want the responsibility, but he also didn’t want a child of his growing up in the same world that he did. Filled with crime and violence.”

I stifle a laugh when she says this. Seriously? He was the number one offender. I’ve heard stories about his father, but I’m sure that Tony could put him to shame being the vile monster that he was.

“I’m sorry, Marta, but I find it hard to believe that Tony actually cared that much about anything. You know exactly how he treated me. He wasn’t innocent,” I retort. The tension in my body builds and I just want to find out everything. Now.

“You’re right. He wasn’t. As a matter of fact, he was terrible to you. You already know that he was a monster in so many dimensions of his life. But I promise you this, the moment that he eventually let Sara into his heart, he fell in love. Everything became about her. Yes, he stole her from you. I won’t deny that. He did it for me, and for that, I’m sorry. I didn’t ask for her. In fact, I was planning on helping
you
raise her. But Tony had other plans.” Clearly he did or he wouldn’t have tried to kill me.

“Marta, I’m sorry, but you will never convince me that Tony was a good man. Let’s get on with Sara, please. I don’t forgive Tony and I never will. End of story.” I’m harsh, but she can’t possibly think that I’m going to forgive him in any way.

“Okay. After Sara was born, I requested they move you to a different floor so you wouldn’t get upset when you saw other new mothers with their babies. Tony didn’t want you to see her. He had me come visit with her and I actually stayed with her for the two nights that she was there. I fed her, changed her, bathed her. I did everything that
you
should have been permitted to do. I’m sorry that Tony took that away from you. You’re her mother and now she belongs with you.” She sniffles as she pauses.

“He only visited her in the hospital for about five minutes. He wouldn’t hold her or touch her. He also didn’t call her by name. I put her name on the birth certificate since I knew what you planned to name her. I’m happy that she was able to have a piece of you throughout all of this.” Her voice trails off and my grip on the phone tightens.

“Did Tony even care about her? It’s hard for me to believe that a father could ignore his own daughter the way that he did.” So many things about that bastard are truly appalling. But this takes the cake for me.

“Honestly, at first, no. He avoided her at all costs. Then, after you left… he just didn’t want to be around her. Because of what you did to him. How you hurt him. He wanted nothing to do with Sara.” she says quietly. “But he wanted me to have her to build the family that I was never able to.”

How I hurt him? Bullshit. “Marta, he tried to kill me that night. I did what I had to do.” I have absolutely no remorse for hurting him, and I wish I had been able to crush his skull with more force.

“I know. I know,” she says. “It took a long time, almost two years, before he could stand to be in the same room with Sara. She reminded him so much of you. But as time went by, he couldn’t resist her. She is such a charmer.” I can hear her smile through the phone as she describes my daughter. But her tone turns solemn again. “Sara only knew Tony for a year before he was arrested and indicted for some very bad things. He went to prison right after she turned three. Then he was killed. She barely remembers him.”

I sit back in the chair, letting this all sink in. I’m immensely relieved that she had very limited interactions with Tony.

“So why now?” I ask. “Why contact me after all of these years? After Sara has lived with you and you’ve established her memories and built a life for her with you?”

“I’m dying,” she whispers.

I gasp as my hand flies to my chest. This is not at all what I expected to hear from her. Dying? Oh my God.

“Marta, I – I don’t know what to say…”

I hear her soft sobs through the phone. “I have an aggressive form of lung cancer. I stopped all treatments a few weeks ago. I don’t have much time left.” Her voice trails off.

“Does Sara know?” I ask, suddenly worried about how my
daughter
is handling this terrible news.

“She knows enough. She knows that I’m sick and not getting any better. She doesn’t know that I’m going to die or that it may happen soon. I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell her. She’s only seven.” She’s weeping uncontrollably now, and I need to give her a minute to calm down.

Seven. I was seven when Trina died. I remember all too well what that felt like. I was confused, scared, angry, and devastated. So many awful things have happened to me throughout my life, but losing Trina was the most painful. Losing the only mother that I ever knew, who loved me unconditionally, was dreadful. And then the chain of events that occurred after her death completely destroyed me for years.

How on earth am I going to help Sara through this? I’m not entirely sure that I can live through it again. Seeing death through the eyes of a seven year old. But I know that I must do it. For her. I have no other choice, and neither does Sara.

“I’m so sorry, Marta. So very sorry. Tell me what can I do. What’s next?” I ask.

“How soon can you come to Portland?” she asks.

“As soon as possible,” I answer and mentally start to think about what I need to prepare. What I need to do. How am I going to give Sara a home here? My mind is racing.

“Okay, can you take down all of my information?” she asks and proceeds to give me her address. I scribble it down on the back of a receipt I find on the desk.

“Got it. I’m going to hang up and check into flights. I will try to fly out today if I can. I’ll call you back soon to let you know my arrangements. Okay?”

“Yes,
cara
. That’s okay,” she says softly. I can tell she’s crying again. I feel so incredibly sad for her. For Sara.

“Marta, I’ll call you soon. Take care,” I say as I disconnect the call.

I try to stand, but my legs are shaking. This is unbelievable. I’m so incredibly happy that I’m going to see my daughter and bring her home with me. But, oh my God, Marta. She’s dying. The only mother that Sara has ever known is dying.

I need to pull myself together and get to Oregon. Today. I’ll figure out on the way there how I’m going to handle all of this.

Present

Age 24

I
STARE
at the door that has so many answers lying behind it. Truth, lies, fiction. I’m here at Tabby’s apartment because I need answers. Explanations. Apologies. I’m about to knock when it flies open. She looks frantic and surprised to see me.

“Hey, I hope it’s not a bad time,” I say and I don’t know why but I’m suddenly worried. Something isn’t right. A suitcase stands by the door with her purse and jacket resting on top. I glance at them and then back to her. “Going somewhere?” Is she running? Taking off to avoid the inevitable? Trying to escape from the web of lies that she created? She can’t leave. I need answers.

“Alex, I wasn’t expecting you,” she says.

How could she not be expecting me? I told her barely an hour ago that I needed to talk to her and
she
was the one who suggested meeting. So, here I am, and I’m confused again. I want to hear all about Emily and her new family. There are still so many questions that I need answered. She owes me that much.

“You said to come by. Remember? Just before you had to make that
important
phone call?” My tone is annoyed, but I can’t help it.

“Oh. Right.” She looks past me and shuts the door. “So, yeah, I’m going someplace, and I need to leave quickly.” She seems very flustered, almost anxious, and I’m growing concerned for her. How can I go from anger and resentment to worried so quickly? I can’t help it though since the look on her face is panicked and stressed.

“Is everything okay? Is something wrong?” I ask her. Is she running away? And if so, from what or who?

She turns her back and walks into the living room. “I can’t really say,” she murmurs with a strained voice.

What?

“Tabs, what is going on? Enough with the vague shit already.” I’m angry again and I’m trying to understand why she won’t communicate with me. Fuck.

“Listen, I don’t have time, okay? I’m waiting for the car service to get here to take me to the airport, and they’re late. This conversation is going to have to wait until I get back from Port-.” She stops herself from finishing the sentence and her eyes get wide.

“Holy shit, Tabs, please, tell me you aren’t going to Portland!” I shout at her, louder than I intend. She’s going to Portland? Tony is going to kill her if he sees her. She’s out of her fucking mind. I need to stop her.

“Alex, I just can’t get into this right now. Yes, I’m going to Portland, and that’s all I can tell you.” She looks scared and nervous. Shit, this is very bad.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this. You shouldn’t be going to Portland, especially alone. I’m coming with you,” I blurt out. I must be crazy for suggesting this, but I can’t help it. She’s putting herself in danger by going and I can’t let anything happen to her, regardless of what’s going on with us.

“No!” she yells at me. Her face looks pale and her eyebrows are furrowed. “You are absolutely
not
coming with me. What makes you think I would even want you there?” She folds her arms across her chest and taps her foot quickly on the floor.

I’m adamant, “It’s not a matter if you want me there or not. You’re committing suicide if you go, and I want to make sure that doesn’t happen.” I soften my voice and drop my clenched hands to my sides. “I don’t want to see you get hurt… or worse.” She needs to see that I still care about her. I feel it. Why can’t she?

She relaxes a little bit and the scowl leaves her face. “Alex, you don’t understand. It’s not like that anymore.” She glances at her phone, and at the same time, I hear a car horn blaring from outside her building. “Shit, I gotta go!” She grabs her bags and ushers me out the door.

“Tabs, please wait a second!” I beg her as she runs down the stairs and out the door.

She turns to face me, looking into my eyes. “It’s going to be okay, I promise … but I need to go
now
.” She tries to convince me, but I don’t believe her. Not one bit.

Holy shit! What the hell just happened? She’s gone and I hear the car peel away from the curb.

I realize that I don’t have any answers about Emily, but all I can think about is Tabby’s safety. My heart races as I realize I may have seen her for the last time. I panic as I start to picture what will happen if Tony gets his hands on her… Oh my God.

~

I race to find the one person who will know exactly what’s going on. Kirsten. The chimes sound as I open the door and scan the empty store to find her.

“Alex, what are you doing here?” she says as she walks out from the back storage room. She looks surprised, if not a little startled.

“You need to tell me everything that’s going on with Tabby,” I demand. “Do you know that she just left for
Portland
?” I ask incredulously, raising my voice. “She’s going to get herself killed, Kirsten!” I pace back and forth in the store.

Her face drops as she looks to the floor. “I can’t say anything. I’m sorry, but I just can’t. Please, stay out of this for now.” She lowers her voice. “You realize that this isn’t your business anymore, right?”

This is maddening! I may not have a right to know, but can’t she see that I still care about Tabby? I have to help her, to protect her.

“Seriously, Kirsten? I just found out about Emily
yesterday,
and now Tabby’s on a suicide mission! Don’t keep me in the dark on this one. I can’t sit here while she throws herself to the wolves.”
The
wolf. No matter what has happened between the two of us, I can’t stand to see her get hurt or worse.