I remain collapsed on the tile, unable to shut the front door. My mom loved me. And we were happy. Her words come back to me again. Practice love, compassion, and forgiveness. Only now, I’m certain the voice is real. It’s Her. If Gram can get in Kara’s head then Mom can get in mine. She wouldn’t have harassed Kara, my mother didn’t have it in her to torture someone like that, but she’d definitely sing me lyrical lessons and pass down wisdom and comfort.
I close my eyes and picture her on that ledge, feeling victorious as Kara moved to safety, her mind already plotting what to do next. The image is so clear it’s as if I’m there, as if the memory is now mine. She turns and reaches for the top of the barrier, but misses. She looks at her hand like it failed her. Realizing she’s off balance, then her foot slips. She reaches both arms toward the ledge but gravity has already won.
My breathing slows. She died terrified. She had no time to think of me or Dad or her garden or the book she’d never read the end of. I cry, but this time I cry for her. Not me. Her. For all she lost. Her death was a sacrifice. A sacrifice for Kara.
I lift myself up. Of course she hadn’t left Kara alone that night. My mom wasn’t a shirker. If she was in a position to help, she’d see it as her duty. She’d see it through to the end.
My mom was a hero.
Brady
I’m not even through the door when Eve says it wasn’t suicide. Her face is serene—the contradiction between what was said and her expression baffle me.
“Kara came here.”
“Kara Anderson?”
“Yeah. She’s the one who went out on the ledge. Mom talked her back inside.”
“What?”
“She fell, Dad. It was an accident.”
I slide my back down the wall and onto the floor. It doesn’t make sense. “Why was she there?” I ask. “Why didn’t she say anything?”
Eve shakes her head. “It was messed up. Kara found out her parents are total nymphos and got wasted and just, like, snapped. Mom calmed her down, but then fell.”
I take off my tie. The veins in my forehead drum against my skull. I can see Eve is relieved—at least Maddy’s death doesn’t betray our memory of who she was—and I am too, only relief sits second to my anger. A far second. I get up and grab the portable phone. “I’m calling the police.”
“To say what?”
My voice gets louder as I speak. “To say my wife was a goddamn saint. That she wasn’t depressed. That Kara fucking Anderson decided it was okay to screw with us all. I’m going to demand the state press charges.”
Eve squeezes her eyes shut. “What’s the point, Dad? I get what you’re saying, but we can’t change what happened.”
I back away as if Eve might infect me with her ability to forgive. “So it’s okay with you that Kara let everyone think your mother was unhappy? She let everyone believe Mom took her own life. That’s okay with you?”
Eve throws her hands in the air. “No, it’s not okay. But it is what it is. At least we know, Dad. At least she told us. It could be worse. Think about what Mom would—”
“No.” I cut her off. I see what she’s saying but can’t match it. There’s a certificate that lists my wife’s cause of death as suicide. It’s disrespectful to Madeline, disrespectful to our life together.
*
Eve endures thirty minutes of questioning at the police station.
“Did Kara indicate she asked or otherwise coerced your mom to step out on the ledge?”
“No. She said her instinct was to jump before my mother could get help.”
“Did Kara in any way indicate her movements on the ledge caused your mom to fall?”
“No. She said she was already headed toward the door.”
“But she knew your mom fell?”
“Yeah, she heard her scream.”
I listen in awe. Eve’s recall is impeccable. She rationally delivers this sensitive material in a way I never could’ve at her age. Or now. Imagine what this afternoon was like for my daughter: she consumed facts that are, at most lenient, emotional and, at most accurate, life altering. Then she thought about them, independently, and developed her position. And now she’s here supporting me, even though we disagree. Seventeen going on thirty.
The detectives stand. “What now?” I ask.
“We question Kara.”
Eve and I wait in silence. After a few minutes she reaches over and squeezes my hand twice. A simple gesture of backing. She’s telling me we’re a team. No matter what.
Neither officer makes eye contact when they return. “Kara’s story was consistent,” the older one says, “although harder to understand because she’s still quite intoxicated.”
They exchange glances to determine, without speaking, who will break the news. The rookie loses the silent argument. “We talked to the D.A. and there’s really no action for us to take at this point. Miss Anderson did not commit a criminal act.”
“How is that possible?” I sneer. “She knew it wasn’t suicide and failed to come forward. How is that not illegal?” Eve stays mute, willing me to drop it, but I can’t be the bigger person here. Maddy believed in showing love, compassion, and forgiveness, but some things are unpardonable.
“The fact is, Madeline’s death was an accident. The only possible argument for liability would be that she created a perilous situation for your wife, and then failed to make an effort to protect her.”
“That’s true. That’s what happened.”
He scratches his cheek. “It’s a stretch. She only really created a perilous situation for herself. Your wife stepped into it voluntarily.”
“Can’t you argue that by going out on a ledge, you’re creating danger for anyone that finds you? Obviously if someone notices you’re there, they’re going to try to help.”
“Even if we could prove that, your wife slipped. There’s nothing the state could argue Kara could’ve done to save her. For a charge to stick, she needs to have failed to take action.”
I shake my head defiantly. “She killed my wife.”
The older officer sighs. “Because of her your wife is dead, no one is arguing that, but she didn’t kill her.”
“What about the fact that she didn’t report it? Isn’t that negligence or accessory or something?”
“There’s no law in Massachusetts that you have to report a crime. Not to mention that we just concluded there was no crime. And keep in mind that she’s a kid. She was probably scared to come forward.”
I need to conjure up an angle that puts Kara in a position to pay.
I catch Eve’s eye. She looks so much like Maddy, sitting there, waiting for me to come to my senses. A wave of oxygen courses through me. That’s it. That’s why Eve is so serene. She’s thinking of it the way Maddy would have: everything happens for a reason. So what’s the reason Eve sees that I’m missing?
It’s a fact that we learned more from Maddy’s death because we thought it was a suicide. If I’d known it was an accident, I would’ve been angry at the world and retreated to work. I wouldn’t have questioned my life, my priorities. And if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have worked so hard to find common ground with Eve. And if I hadn’t done that, I would’ve become a bitter workaholic with an estranged daughter. Kara’s cover-up was to my benefit. The epiphany calms me.
Eve and I stand to leave as though on cue. I put my arm around her and she clasps into my side, our physical closeness no longer uncomfortable. We leave the officers confused by what transpired during the silence. As we walk away, the older one calls out, “We’ll get that death certificate changed, though.”