Deceitful, yes, even that.
But there are lies, and there are lies.
Identity isn’t something that should be trifled with.
I can’t believe he’s been lying about who he is all this time.
Oh yeah, and who I am, too.
Because as much as I’d like to blame this on Maya’s insanity, the name thing somehow resonates.
Holy shit.
What if I really am Casey Baxter?
There’s One More Message
From an unknown number, which can only belong
to Maya McCabe, and it does: YOUR FRIEND GAVE ME YOUR NUMBER. HOPE THAT’S
OKAY. I’M SORRY I WASN’T MORE CIRCUMSPECT. TATI SAID I SHOULD WAIT, BUT I WAS SO EXCITED TO
HAVE FINALLY FOUND YOU I JUST COULDN’T. YOU
DON’T KNOW, CASEY, YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY KNOW
HOW HARD I’VE LOOKED FOR YOU. NOTHING I TOLD
YOU WAS A LIE. I’M SURE THIS COMES AS A SHOCK
AND AM WILLING TO GIVE YOU AS MUCH TIME AS
YOU NEED.
Friend, huh? Wonder
which so-called friend
that might have been.
Syrah, probably.
Who else would feel
the need to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong?
And what the hell does Maya mean, as much time as I need?
To what? Decide she is, in fact, my mother? A blood test can prove that.
What does it take to prove you’re an actual mom?
Where Do I Go Now?
Not home. Not ready to listen to Dad’s bullshit excuses and lies.
How could he do this to me?
How can I ever believe a single word
he utters again?
Not going to Syrah’s or Monica’s.
What would I say?
Hey, don’t sweat it.
(Santa please . . . ) Everything’s cool.
Nothing’s changed.
Oh, except
don’t forget
to call me Casey.
Can I just keep being Ariel instead?
I’ll go to Zelda’s.
We have something in common: betrayal.
The GTO
Is nowhere in sight.
Gabe must be off somewhere, and that’s fine by me.
I’m here to commiserate
with Zelda and don’t need a distraction.
She must have been
waiting for me,
because she answers
my knock right away.
I realize this is the first time I’ve been here
without Dad and/or Gabe.
I hoped you’d come, she says.
How about a drink?
God knows I’ve had a couple.
I think it over, but decide, “Better not. At some point I’ll have to drive. You go right ahead, though.”
I follow her inside,
where it looks like Christmas.
Red and green garlands sway over doorways and windows, and in the living room
is one of those pop-up trees, all trimmed and lit.
“When did this happen?
How did this happen?”
It didn’t look like this last time I was here.
“Don’t tell me it was elves.”
She snorts. Wish it were that easy. Gabe and I have been working on it. He’s done most of it, in fact. So maybe I do have an elf, though he’s a pretty tall specimen.
Christmas is still two weeks away, but it’s not like Dad and I ever put up a tree or hang stockings. I’ve never even considered doing such things. “Well, it’s pretty.”
It seemed prettier a few hours ago. Have a seat. There’s stuff you should know. She gulps whatever it is she’s drinking.
I perch on the edge of the sofa, rather than settle in. Not sure I’ll let myself feel comfortable again. At least with discomfort you’re clear on the truth. Suddenly I don’t know why I came here.
What can I say, really?
The Feeling Must Be Mutual
Because even as Zelda sits
in the adjacent recliner,
a huge sheet of Arctic ice
coalesces in the silence
between us. To break it,
I ask, “Where’s Gabe?”
This is not what I’m here
to talk about, but Zelda’s all in.
Gabe went out to the ranch to visit Hillary. I’m being direct here, because it’s one of the things you should know. Lately they’ve been spending time together.
Glacier broken, a big chunk
sinks. Glub-glub. Gabe and Hillary. Wow. Didn’t see that
one coming. It’s crushing,
but why? Not like he and I
are an actual couple, just
friends with privileges.
And only a few hours ago,
I thought I didn’t care about
Syrah flirting with him.
Is it because that was out
in the open, and this definitely wasn’t? Are all guys sneaks?
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
He should have, and I’m sure he would have eventually.
I think he was waiting to see how things panned out, but honestly, he’s smitten. Sorry to drop this in your lap on top of everything else, but today is the day for coming clean.
“I guess it is. So you know,
I have no freaking clue how
Dad managed to keep me
in the dark about everything.
Obviously I’m stupid.”
That makes two of us. But listen.
There’s more. After you left and your dad took off, I stayed and talked to Ms. McCabe for a few minutes. You need to know that she was awarded legal custody of you. As her story goes, one December morning when you were very little she was at work when Mark—I can’t think of him as Jason—picked you up from daycare. He was in the army when he took off with you, and that made him AWOL. Now he’s considered a deserter.
Awesome