“I’m still not at liberty to say.”
“She’s here, isn’t she? You have to let me see her.”
She motions to someone. A security guard walks over. “Is there a problem here?”
“Yes. She won’t let me see my wife.”
“You get this is a women’s clinic, not couples counseling, right, buddy?”
I go for the door to the back, but the man grabs my arm.
“I have to see her. She can’t do this.”
“Let’s go,” he says, pulling me to the front door.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Then we’ll call the police.”
“Devyn!” I scream as loud as I can. “Devyn DeMaggio! Come out here! Please, Devyn!”
“Make the call,” the security guard tells the woman.
The door to the back opens, and Devyn sticks her head through. I jerk my arm away from the guard and go to her.
“What did you call me?” she asks.
“I know, Devyn. I know everything.”
“Miss,” the woman behind the counter says, holding a receiver. “Shall I call the police?”
Devyn shakes her head, and the woman puts down the phone.
Another woman shows up. “Ms. Dunlop, would you and this gentleman like a private room so you can talk?”
Devyn nods, and we’re led into a small conference room. “Take all the time you need,” she says.
Devyn sits. I can’t. There’s too much going on in my head. I pace, not knowing where to start. I stop behind her. She doesn’t turn around. “Did you do it? Did you get an abortion?”
She sighs. “It’s not that easy. You can’t simply walk in here and get one. There’s a process. How did you know?”
Relief courses through me. I take the seat next to her. “Andie called. She was worried about you. I went looking for you at the lodge. The nightstand drawer was open. I saw the photo and the pamphlets.”
“How did you know my name?”
“The other day, when Congressman DeMaggio’s name was mentioned, you freaked. I did some digging on the internet.”
“He’s not my dad. Not my real one, anyway.”
“I know that too.”
Tears coat her lashes. “Exactly how much do you know?”
“Everything. Jail. Kasey.”
Her eyes close. “Then you know I can’t have a baby. And if you know all this, why are you here? How can you stand to be in the same room with me?”
“Because I also know it was a huge mistake, Dev. A terrible misjudgment on your part. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a baby.”
She laughs sadly. “That’s exactly what it means. Do you really want the mother of your child to be a murderer?”
“You’re not a killer. I read all the transcripts. Even the judge was sympathetic. It’s obvious the only reason you went to jail is because Ed made it happen. I wouldn’t be surprised to discover he bribed a few people and, at the very least, called in lots of favors. Of course he was devastated, but in his eyes, losing her wasn’t punishment enough. He had to make you pay.”
“I got exactly what I deserved. Maybe you didn’t read everything as well as you think. I got drunk and left the pool gate open. Then I left her alone in the house and got high at the neighbors. Don’t you understand that she would be alive today if it weren’t for me?”
“There were others there. It’s not just on you. I’ll bet they threw you under the bus to save themselves.”
She points to herself. “I was responsible for her. She was only five years old. She was my sister. You couldn’t possibly understand.”
“You don’t know how wrong you are.”
She wipes her cheeks and waits for more.
“Four years ago, I was a sophomore in college. I was in a fraternity, and I was stoked to be the one getting to haze the new pledges, because I was hazed the year before. Hazing isn’t legal, but it happens all the time. It’s a rite of passage. The pledge assigned to me was my best friend. We met my freshman year. He chose not to join a fraternity, but after seeing how much fun I was having, he changed his mind. After eight weeks of crap, it was time for initiation. Just one last party during hell week. One last time for the pledges to show us how tough they were.” My throat thickens, and my palms sweat, but I power through. She has to hear it.
“I made sure to get the cheapest, most horrible-tasting rotgut whiskey I could find. Cameron hated whiskey. This was my last chance to be the boss of him, and I was going to make the most of it. It wasn’t until the bottle was empty that I realized what was happening to him. He was confused more than a normal drunk, and his skin was pale and cool to the touch. He looked almost blue. I freaked out and made him drink water, then watched him closely. But it wasn’t working, and he would stop breathing for like ten seconds at a time. I wanted to call for help, but my frat brothers assured me it would pass. He was piss drunk, and he’d sleep it off.
“But Cam was my best friend. Like my mom, he always fought for the underdog. He loved the environment and made the frat house implement a strict recycling program. He’s the one who got me to change my major. I was not about to leave him hanging out to dry if something was wrong, so I called 911, even though my brothers begged me not to. By the time the paramedics arrived, he’d stopped breathing, and I was giving him mouth-to-mouth. They rushed him to the hospital but wouldn’t let me go. I didn’t know anything until the next day. His parents were called. They drove down from Dallas. I slept in the waiting room. Sat there all the next day until his father told me he was in a coma. He stayed that way for two weeks before they pulled the plug.” My voice cracks. “So if you want to talk about murderers, I sure as hell fit the description more than you do. I got him the alcohol. I practically poured it down his throat. He was my responsibility. My brother.”
Devyn’s eyes are red. She’s shaking. “I… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
“You want to hear the real kicker? I didn’t even get punished. The fraternity was suspended, and we got a slap on the wrist. That’s it. I should have gone to jail, Devyn. What I did was far worse than what you did. It’s like I took him into the pool and held him under the fucking water.”
I don’t cry in front of people. Never have. Not even when I lost Cameron. But I’m crying now. I’m sobbing, because I know exactly how she feels, and it guts me.
She takes me in her arms, and we sob on each other’s shoulders.
She stutters. “S-so now you k-know why I can’t have a b-baby.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Aaron, I can’t be trusted. What if I screw up? I’m not even sure I’m allowed to have a baby. What if the police find out I’m pregnant? With my past, they might take it away.”
“Nobody can take your baby away. You served your time. You’re not even on parole.”
“I can’t do this. I know I can’t. Every time I would look at him or her, I’d see Kasey. I just can’t.”
I pace again. “So that’s it? You were just going to abort our child without telling me? I thought I knew you better. I thought the connection we had was strong.”