“I know,” he says with a nod. “I’m not defending her choices but they aren’t useless either. We both know how to defend ourselves better than most people should the need ever arise.”
I press my fingers into my forehead. “I just want answers, Theo. I want to know what all of this was for and I want to know what happened to her. There’s this nagging feeling, deep down in my gut, that her death wasn’t just some random accident but as soon as I go down that rabbit hole, I start thinking that I’m losing my mind. Accidents happen all the time but she seemed invincible and it feels like I’m never going to get any peace.”
“It hasn’t even been a week, sis. Just give it time.” He walks over and sits next to me on the ottoman, wrapping his arm around me as I lay my head on his shoulder.
“I think I’m losing my mind.”
He laughs, giving me a squeeze. “Naw, T. You’re just grieving.”
“How are you holding it together so well?” I ask, lifting my head off his shoulder to study him.
“Honestly, I have no idea. I’m probably just going to break one day out of the blue and shock the shit out of everyone, including myself.”
I want to tell him that’s not healthy but who am I to talk? I’m over here dreaming up conspiracy theories.
“We better get back to it,” I say, sighing. “I only have you for another day and a half.”
The thought of Theo leaving so soon is upsetting and I suck in a breath as I stand up and walk over to another box.
“I’m sorry that I have to leave so soon.”
I shrug. “I get it. I’m just going to miss you.”
“I know. I miss you, too, and I missed so much time with Mom by being away. When my contract is up in a couple years, I don’t think I’m going to reenlist.”
“You know what you want to do once you’re a free man again?”
He laughs, shaking his head as he stands up. “Nope. It’ll be a fun adventure.”
I giggle as I pull a taped up shoebox out one of the bigger boxes. Frowning, I inspect it before glancing up at Theo.
“Let me see your knife.”
He flips the knife in his hand and holds the handle out to me. Taking it from him, I cut through the tape and sit down on the couch with the box in my lap.
“What is it?” Theo asks and I shake my head.
“I’m not sure yet.” Carefully, I open the lid and scowl at the photo of a little boy sitting on top. Underneath that is a stack of handwritten letters that almost completely fill up the box. Grabbing the one on top, I unfold it and start to read before turning to Theo.
“I think these are love letters to Mom.”
His eyes widen and he joins me on the couch. “What?”
He grabs another letter and unfolds it as I read through the one in my hand.
“Listen to this,” I say, reading from the paper. “I understand your reason for leaving, baby, but it doesn’t make this any easier. You leaving punched a hole right through the center of my heart and I know that I won’t feel whole again until you’re back in my arms.”
“I have to believe that this is just part of our story, sweetheart,” Theo says, reading from his letter. “Because if I think about this being the end, if I consider that you were never meant to be mine, I don’t know how I’ll go on.”
“It’s signed “Love, M”,” I point out and he glances at the bottom of his letter.
“This one, too.”
Reaching back into the box, I grab the photo of the boy and his bright blue eyes punch me in the gut. “Who do you think he is?”
“I have no idea,” Theo replies, glancing down at the photo.
Reaching into the box, I pull out the letter on the very bottom and gasp as I read the date at the top. “Theo, these letters go all the way back to right around the time we were born.”
He grabs the first letter I was reading. “The top letter is dated July 1998. That’s right before we moved here.”
Our eyes meet and I can hear all the questions running through his mind as they mix with mine. I can’t help but feel like this is just one more thing that our mother took to her grave.
* * * *
Right before Mom moved Theo and me to Baton Rouge, we were staying at this small motel right off the interstate in Omaha, Nebraska. As six year olds, Theo and I hated being cooped up in that room but Mom didn’t like for us to go outside, not with the kind of places we were staying in but a couple days before we left, she took us to the zoo. I can still remember it like it was yesterday. We spent the whole day there – from the time they opened until they ushered us out of the gates. Looking back, it was one of the few times I saw Mom looking carefree and I wish she were sitting across this dining room table from me so I could ask her all of the questions that have been swarming around in my head for the past week.
A week.
Seven days.
It’s such a short amount of time and somehow, it still feels like forever when all I want to do is talk to my mom. I sat in this exact chair three days before the accident, telling her about how work was going at the diner and talking about my plans to go to school someday while she nagged me about moving back home so she wouldn’t have to worry about me so much. I wish I had taken her up on that offer. Maybe things would be different now if I had.
Theo stomps down the stairs and I quickly wipe away my tears before grabbing my coffee mug and raising it to my lips.
“Please tell me I’m not dreaming the smell of that coffee.”
I laugh. “You’re not. Did you sleep okay last night?”
He ambles over to the cupboard and grabs a mug. “Not really. I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn shoebox we found.”
“I know,” I answer with a sigh. “I couldn’t either.”
We spent the rest of the evening reading through some of the letters in the box and trying to figure out who this mystery person in our mother’s life was. Honestly, I think we’re both more confused now than we were before we found that box. Did we even know our mother at all?
“Do you think this “M” guy is our dad?”
Theo sighs as he leans back against the counter and raises his cup to his lips. After he takes a sip, he runs his hand over his short hair.
“Anything is possible, T. But who says “M” is a man?”
My mouth pops open and I stare at him. “You think Mom was gay?”
He shrugs again. “Why not?”
“But she had us,” I point out.
“Like I said, anything is possible.”
Before I can say anything else, the doorbell rings and I glance over my shoulder, seeing a figure through the small windows at the top of the door.
“You expecting someone?” Theo asks and I shake my head.
“No, are you?”
My brother changes before my eyes, straightening his shoulders and setting his cup of coffee down on the counter. It’s a look I know all too well – the same one I get anytime someone shows up at my apartment unannounced. Theo reaches into the hidden compartment next to the sink and pulls out Mom’s 1911. He puts his finger to his lips, instructing me to be quiet before he starts creeping toward the door. Rolling my eyes, I circle around the other side of the kitchen and step into the living room as he opens the door.