Diem does look like me. We have the same hair, the same eyes. She even has the same slender fingers I have.
I was glad to see she got Scotty’s laugh and smile. Watching the videos of her was like a refresher course in the history of Scotty. It’s been so long, and I had no pictures of him in prison, so I was beginning to forget what he looked like. But I saw him in her, and I’m thankful for that.
I’m grateful to know that when Patrick and Grace look at Diem, they can still see some semblance of their own son. I always worried that if she looked too much like me, they might not see remnants of him.
I thought I’d feel different after finally seeing her. I was hoping there would be a sense of closure within me, but it’s almost as if someone has stretched open the wound. I thought seeing her happy would make me happier, but in a way, it’s made me even sadder, in a completely selfish way.
It’s not that difficult to love a child you gave birth to, even if you’ve never laid eyes on them. But it’s extremely difficult to finally see what they look like and sound like and are like, and then be expected to just walk away from that.
But that’s exactly what they all expect me to do. It’s what they want me to do.
The thought of it makes my stomach feel like it’s full of tight, knotted ropes, and they’re all about to snap.
Ledger was right, I needed food. But now that I’m sitting here with food, all I can do is think about the last couple of hours, and I don’t know if I can eat. I’m nauseous, full of adrenaline, emotional, exhausted.
Ledger went through a drive-through and ordered us burgers. We’re sitting in his truck in the parking lot of a park, eating our food.
I know why he didn’t want to take me anywhere public. His being seen with me probably wouldn’t go over well with Diem’s grandparents. Not that I know a whole lot of people in this town, but I knew enough people back then that there’s a chance I could be recognized.
If I haven’t been already. I had a few coworkers back then, and even though I never met Ledger, I did meet a handful of Scotty’s other friends. And since it’s a small town, I could possibly be recognized by anyone who was nosy enough to pass around my mug shot.
People love a good rumor, and if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s being fodder for gossip.
I don’t blame anyone but myself. Everything would be different if I wouldn’t have panicked that night. But I did, and these are the consequences, and I’ve accepted that. I spent the first couple of years of my sentence replaying every decision I’ve ever made, wishing I could go back and get a second shot.
Ivy once said to me, “Regret keeps you stuck on pause. So does prison. When you get out of here, make sure you hit play so you don’t forget to move forward.”
I’m scared to move forward, though. What if the only way I can move forward is without Diem?
“Can I ask you a question?” Ledger says. I glance over at him, and he’s already finished his food. I haven’t even taken three bites of my burger.
Ledger is good looking, but not in the way Scotty was. Scotty was more the boy next door. Ledger isn’t the boy next door. Ledger looks like the guy who might beat up the boy next door. He’s rough around the edges, and the fact that he owns a bar doesn’t soothe that image any.
He doesn’t come off quite the way he looks when he opens his mouth, though, and that’s the most important thing.
“What happens if they won’t let you meet her?” he asks.
I’m definitely not hungry now. Just the thought of it is nauseating. I shrug. “I guess I’ll move away. I don’t want them to feel like I’m a threat.” I force myself to eat a french fry, only because I don’t know what else to say.
Ledger takes a sip of his tea. The truck is quiet. It feels like there might be an apology hanging in the air between us, but I’m not sure who it belongs to.
Ledger claims it when he shifts in his seat and says, “I feel like I owe you an apology for stopping you from—”
“It’s okay,” I say, cutting him off. “You were doing what you thought you needed to do to protect Diem. As mad as I am for my own sake . . . I’m happy Diem has people in her life who protect her that fiercely.”
He’s staring at me with his head slightly tilted. He processes my response, tucking it away somewhere without giving me any clue as to what he’s thinking. He nudges his head toward my uneaten food. “You aren’t hungry?”
“I think I’m too wound up to eat right now. I’ll take it home.” I put my burger back in the sack, along with the rest of my fries. I fold the sack up and set it on the seat between us. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
I lean my head against the seat and study his face. “Do you hate me?” I’m surprised when the question leaves my mouth, but I need to know where his head is at. Sometimes, like when we were at his house, it feels like he hates me as much as Scotty’s parents do.
But then sometimes, like right now, he looks at me like he might empathize with my situation. I need to know who my enemies are, and I need to know if there’s anyone on my team. If I only have enemies, what am I even still doing here?
Ledger leans into his driver’s side door, resting his elbow on the windowsill. He stares straight ahead and rubs his jaw. “I formed an opinion of you in my head after Scotty’s death. All these years, it’s like you’ve been some random person online—someone I could make strong judgments about and place blame on without actually having to know. But now that we’re face to face . . . I don’t know that I want to say all the things to you I’ve always wanted to say.”
“But you still feel them?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Kenna.” He shifts in his seat so that his attention is more directed at me. “That first night you walked into my bar, I thought you were the most intriguing girl I’d ever met. But then when I saw you the next day in front of Patrick and Grace’s house, I thought you were the most disgusting person I’d ever met.”
His honesty fills my chest with embarrassment. “And tonight?” I ask quietly.
He looks me in the eye. “Tonight . . . I’m starting to wonder if you’re the saddest girl I’ve ever met.”
I smile what is probably the most painful-looking smile, simply because I don’t want to cry. “All of the above.”
His smile is almost as painful. “I was afraid of that.” There’s a question in his eyes. Lots of questions. So many questions, I have to look away from his face to avoid them.
Ledger gathers his trash and gets out of the truck and walks it over to a trash can. He lingers outside his truck for a moment. When he reappears at the driver’s side door, he doesn’t get in. He just grips the top of the truck and stares at me. “What happens if you have to move away? What are your plans? Your next step?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a sigh. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’ve been too afraid to let go of the hope that they’ll change their minds.” That’s starting to feel like the direction this is going, though. And Ledger of all people knows where their heads are at. “Do you think they’ll ever give me a chance?”
Ledger doesn’t answer. He doesn’t shake his head or nod. He just completely ignores the question and gets in his truck and backs out of the parking lot.
Leaving me without an answer is still an answer.
I think about this the entire way home. When do I cut my losses? When do I accept that maybe my life won’t intersect with Diem’s?
My throat is dry and my heart is empty when we pull back into the parking lot of my apartment unit. Ledger gets out of the truck and comes around to open my door. He just stands there, though. He looks like he wants to say something, the way he shuffles back and forth on his feet. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at the ground.
“It wasn’t a good look, you know. To his parents, to the judge, to everyone in that courtroom . . . you just seemed so . . .” He can’t finish his sentence.
“I seemed so what?”
His eyes connect with mine. “Unremorseful.”
That word knocks the breath out of me. How could anyone think I was unremorseful? I was absolutely devastated.
I feel like I’m about to start crying again, and I’ve cried enough today. I just need out of his truck. I grab my bag and my to-go food, and Ledger steps aside so that I can exit his truck. When my feet are on the ground, I start walking because I’m trying to catch my breath, and I can’t and don’t know how to respond to what he just said.
Is that why they refuse to let me see my daughter? They think I didn’t care?
I can hear his footsteps following me, but it forces me to walk even faster until I’m up the stairs and inside my apartment. I set my stuff down on the counter, and Ledger is standing in the doorway to my apartment.
I grip the edge of the counter next to the sink and process what he’s just said. Then I face him with the distance of the room between us. “Scotty was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I wasn’t unremorseful. I was too devastated to speak. My lawyers, they told me I needed to write an allocution statement, but I hadn’t been able to sleep in weeks. I couldn’t get a single word out on paper. My brain, it was . . .” I press a hand to my chest. “I was shattered, Ledger. You have to believe that. Too shattered to even defend myself, or care what happened to my life. I wasn’t unemotional, I was broken.”
And it happens again. The tears. I’m so sick of the fucking tears. I turn away from him because I’m sure he’s sick of them too.
I hear my door close. Did he leave? I spin around, but Ledger is standing inside my apartment. He’s walking slowly toward me, and then he leans against the counter next to me. He folds his arms over his chest, crosses his legs at the ankles, and then just stares at the floor silently for a moment. I grab the napkin off the counter that I was using earlier.
Ledger eyes me. “Who would it benefit?” he asks.
I wait for more clarification, because I don’t know what he’s asking me.
“It wouldn’t benefit Patrick or Grace having to share custody of Diem with you. It would bring a level of stress to their lives that I’m not sure they can emotionally handle. And Diem . . . would it benefit her? Because right now, she has no idea anyone is even missing from her life. She has two people she considers her parents already, and all of their family who love her. She also has me. And if you were allowed visitation, yes, it might mean something to her when she’s older. But right now . . . and I’m not being hateful, Kenna . . . but you would change the peaceful existence they’ve worked so hard to build since Scotty died. The stress your presence would bring to Patrick and Grace would be felt by Diem, no matter how hard they tried to hide it from her. So . . . who would your presence in Diem’s life benefit? Besides yourself?”
I can feel my chest tightening at his words. Not because I’m angry at him for saying them, but because I’m scared he’s right.
What if she’s better off without me in her life? What if my presence would just be an intrusion?
He knows Patrick and Grace better than anyone, and if he says my presence is going to change the good dynamic they’ve built, who am I to argue with that?
I already feared everything he just said, but it feels painful and embarrassing hearing the words actually come from him. He’s right, though. My presence here is selfish. He knows it. They know it.
I’m not here to fill some void in my daughter’s life. I’m here to fill a void in mine.
I blink back tears and blow out a calming breath. “I know I shouldn’t have come back here. You’re right. But I can’t just up and leave. It took everything I had to get here, and now I’m stuck. I have nowhere to go and no money to get there because the grocery store is only part time.”
The empathy has returned to his face, but he’s quiet.
“If they don’t want me here, I’ll leave. It’s just going to take time because I don’t have the money, and every business in this town has turned me down because of my past.”
Ledger pushes off the counter. He clasps his hands behind his head and paces a few steps. I don’t want him to think I’m asking for money. That would be the most mortifying result of this conversation.
But if he offered me money, I’m not sure I’d turn it down. If they want me to leave badly enough to pay for my exit, I’ll cut my fucking losses and go.
“I can give you eight hours on Friday and Saturday nights.” He looks like he regrets the offer as soon as it leaves his mouth. “It’s just kitchen work. Mostly dishes. But you have to stay in the back of the bar. No one can know you work there. If the Landrys find out I’m helping you . . .”
I realize he’s offering me this opportunity to get me out of town quicker. He’s not doing me a favor; he’s doing Patrick and Grace a favor. I try not to think about the whys, though. “I won’t tell anyone,” I say quickly. “I swear.”
The hesitant look on Ledger’s face conveys his regret. It looks like he’s about to say never mind, so I hurry up and spit out a thank you before he can backtrack. “I get off work at four o’clock Friday and Saturday. I can be there by four thirty.”
He nods, and then says, “Come in through the back door. And if anyone asks, tell them your name is Nicole. That’s what I’ll tell the other employees.”
“Okay.”
He shakes his head like he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life, and then he heads to the front door. He says, “Good night,” but his voice is clipped when he says it. Then he closes the door behind him.
Ivy is rubbing against my ankles, so I bend down and pick her up. I bring her up to my chest and cuddle her.
Ledger might have just offered me a job to get me out of town, but I sit down on my couch with a smile, because I got to see my daughter’s face today. No matter how depressing the rest of the day was, I finally got a piece of something I’ve been praying five years for.
I grab my notebook and write the most important letter I’ve ever written to Scotty.
Dear Scotty,
She looks like both of us, but she laughs like you.
She’s perfect in every way.
I’m so sorry you never got to meet her.
Love,
Kenna
