Lauren fell in love with Jasper, without a doubt, but that was after, when she realized she and Mindy couldn’t function without him. Truly, love was a bonus on the back end of things. Yes, he was handsome, but truthfully, Jasper wasn’t really her type—Lauren always went for the bad boys, and Jasper was the preppy boy next door, a former English major and active tennis player, with his floppy hair and crooked smile and law degree.
They met at the laundromat, him washing an oversized comforter, Lauren scrambling to get the baby’s clothes clean and folded while she napped; the warm whirring of the machines always lulled her to sleep. Of course, some idiot came in with a boom box and the deep bass rumble woke Mindy, and she’d started to cry, and the cute guy next to her had offered to hold her while Lauren pulled her clothes out of the dryer, and the next thing she knew, they were eating at the pizza place next door, and she realized he’d been holding Mindy the whole time. When he asked her for her phone number, she felt something akin to relief, that maybe she didn’t have to do this all by herself.
She’d been so young, so na?ve. So lucky. He could have kidnapped the baby, stolen her away. He could have been a killer. Though she likes to think she would have sensed evil coming off of him.
Jasper could have had anyone, but he’d chosen them, and she didn’t question it, just counted herself among the luckiest women on the planet. She always thought he considered himself lucky, too.
The love came in like a wave one afternoon. She was exhausted—nothing new, everyone with a newborn is exhausted—but it was worse because Mindy had started an early tooth. She hadn’t cried so long and loud since the jaundice episode, and even Jasper’s magical touch couldn’t ease their little girl’s pain. He was carrying her around, singing softly, and had looked up with an expression of bemusement, and Lauren had smiled at him, and something inside her had clicked, like a big light switch going on, and she had a single thought, which she said aloud. “I love you.”
He stopped, and smiled, and stuck a finger in Mindy’s mouth. “I love you, too. Now, fetch me the whisky, will you? I think a little on her gums will help.”
“We can’t give the child whisky. They’ll arrest us.”
“Then don’t tell anyone.” His eyes were sparkling; she’d pleased him with her unscheduled announcement. She got the bottle of Scotch, poured out a finger, and watched him dip the tip of his thumb in and swipe it on Mindy’s sore, red gums.
It worked, like everything Jasper tried with the girl.
The crying ceased, and the two of them managed to get her down for a nap, then snuck off to the bedroom themselves. After, he’d told her she was a good mother, and she’d cried a little when she said no, it was he who was the good father.
And he’d kissed her, hard, and proposed, right then, the two of them tangled in the sheets, smelling of baby spit and whisky and love, and she hadn’t thought she could be happier than she was at that very moment.
50
“Mom?”
Mindy’s voice pulls her from her reverie.
Her little girl’s eyes are sunk into her head, but they have some sparkle back in them, thank heavens. Lauren gently caresses her cheek.
“Hi, sweetie. You’re awake. You’ve been out for hours. How do you feel?”
“Empty. Can I have some crackers?”
“Of course. Hang on. I’ll go get some.”
Should she tell her? Should she?
She grabs the crackers and some fresh ginger ale and goes back to the room. Mindy has adjusted the bed so she sits up and is looking decidedly better than before.
“Did you go home?”
“No, I’ve been here all night. I didn’t want to leave when you were feeling so awful.”
“You should go, get some sleep.”
“I will. Let’s see if you can keep any of this down, first.”
She watches her daughter nibble and sip, a brow raised, one hand on the green plastic biologicals bag—so much better than the old plastic tubs—but it is clear the worst is over. They both sigh in relief.
The urge to confess is overwhelming.
“Honey, I have some news.”
“What’s that?”
“We think we’ve found him. Your biological father.” Once she starts, she can’t stop. “He’s here in Vail, at the house, actually, with your dad and Aunt Juliet, and Dr. Oliver is going to test him first thing in the morning, and I met him, and I think you’re going to like him, he’s very quiet, and your dad said he was very polite and well-mannered. Oh, and he has a dog. A big dog, really pretty, she’s named Kat. Isn’t that funny, a dog named Kat?”
“Mom, you’re babbling.”
“Oh, I am, aren’t I?” Lauren pushes her hair off her face. “I’m just excited, honey, and nervous. He seems like a good man.”
“He could be an ax murderer for all I care if his blood’s a match to mine.”
“Melinda. How could you say such a thing? And don’t you dare say anything like that to him, do you understand?”
“Because his wife was murdered?”
Lauren freezes. “How did you—”
“You guys are really bad at keeping your voices down. I have my phone.” She shakes it at Lauren. “I looked him up. You’re right, I do look like them. It’s kind of weird, knowing that someone killed her right when I was born.”
“It’s tragic, sweetie. Such a tragedy.”
“Are the police going to come talk to me? I was a witness, right? I mean, I know I was, like, ten seconds old and all, but maybe some regression therapy, and I’ll be able to remember my birth.”
The little idiot grins at her impishly, and Lauren huffs out a breath and shakes her head. “You are impossible, you know that? I don’t know where you hear these things.”
“Daytime television, Mother dear.”
Mindy puts out a hand, and Lauren catches it. “Mom. Listen. I may still be upset with you, but you will always be my mother. No matter what. Nothing that happens will change that. I love you and Daddy.”
Lauren brushes the tears from her cheeks. “Oh, my sweet girl. If only that could be the case.”
Mindy seems like she wants to ask something more, but Lauren puts a finger on her daughter’s lips.
“I love you, peanut. I love you very, very much.”
“I love you, too.” She pauses, then blurts, “Mom, do you have a friend you call V?”
And Lauren feels the world shift under her feet.
“V? As in victory? No, I don’t.”
Mindy nods. “Oh. Okay. Well, if I’m going to meet my biological father—what should we call him, my biodad?—I need to get cleaned up.”
“Your biodad. I like it. Yes, let’s get you looking pretty, sweetheart.”
Lauren ignores her pounding heart, helps her daughter out of bed, to the shower.
Why would she be asking about V now? Why?
Oh, God. Mindy found the letters.
51
August 1994
Dear Liesel,
My last few letters have come back unopened with a stamp that says Return to Sender. I suppose that means you’ve moved. Moved away, moved on. I know your mother is keeping you from me, the bitch. If I ever see her, I will do bad things to her. But not to you. Never to you. I miss you muchly, Liesel. Please write.
Love,
V
September 1994
Fuck you, Liesel. I can’t believe you’ve abandoned me here like this. Stupid bitch. I’m mailing this even though I know you won’t get it. That’s Einstein’s theory of crazy, right? Doing the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome? Next letter I get from you, I’ll return to sender. How’s that sound?
January 1995
My sweet V,
It’s been so long since I heard from you, I figure you must be mad at me. Or maybe you’ve moved on from the hospital. I hope so. You don’t need to be there, V. You are so strong. If that’s not the case, I’m sorry for whatever I said to upset you, and I’m sorry I couldn’t come visit you before I moved.
I love my new home, and my new school. The view of the mountains is incredible, and so far, the students are very nice. Mother likes her new job. We left behind most of our furniture–it increased the value of the house, Mother said, so we have all new things, and I talked her into a big queen bed for my room, which has been very nice to test out with my new boyfriend. He likes my tattoo, too.
I think of you often. I hope you write me back.
Love,
Liesel
March 1995