CHAPTER THREE : The Scheme
1009 Words
Diane's POV
From my office, I watched him, parked outside. Three hours he'd been there. His hands were tight on the wheel. He stared at the entry like waiting for a sign. Or maybe waiting for a person to show.
When Marcus and I left, I walked extra slow. I wanted to be sure that he saw us there. I wanted him to see the chance he blew. I wanted him to get the choice he eschewed.
Taking the photo was a cinch. Sandra gave me a boost with that. She used her phone across the way and shot it to James from a masked track. I wanted him to get that I'm watching. I wanted his scare to match when I felt lost a decade prior, solo and expecting, unsure what to do.
Now at my desk, I eyed the texts I'd flung his way. They were getting to him. I could feel his unease.
"Diane, you got to let me in," Sandra said, strolling right into my space, not knocking. She wore a worried look right on her face. Sandra has been my solid pal since school days. She backed me when others scurried off. But lately, she gazed at me like some stranger.
I kept my gaze glued to my screen. "So, what is it now?"
"Tell me things," Sandra spoke out. She plopped down on the seat before my desk and hugged herself. "That party made you act odd. You hardly rest. You stare long at Chen's old stuff. You mailed him a photo of you spying. Diane, you are not being yourself."
"You cannot know my true self," I replied low.
Sandra became ghostly. "That is unkind. For fifteen years, I have been your friend. I held you when you were with child and worried. I stood by when you dreamed up this shop from zero. I shared every tough moment." She moved closer. "You are my best pal, and I fear for you. This payback idea is warping you."
At last, I glared at her. "Sandra, he wrecked my world. He left me at my lowest. He stole all I had. Marcus is his secret. Now he acts like fixing things. But first, I will make him hurt. I will give him my pain."
"Then what happens?" Sandra inquired. "You break him, you steal it all, but then what? Joy will come? The past will change?"
I did not reply to her. I faced my screen.
Sandra got up slow. "I hope you see what you are doing, Diane. This whole thing feels wrong."
Once she went away, my mind was a vacant lot. Sandra's chat stuck like week-old gum. I shoved those thoughts aside. She just didn't get it. Her life wasn't hard like mine got hard. She never raised her kid solo with folks pointing fingers. She never worked so hard her bones hurt so her son could live a good life.
That night, I grabbed Marcus from school. He was ten trips around the sun, and smart in a way that made me beam and worry too. He could see through folks. He knew when I fibbed or felt bad, even when I tried to hide it.
"Mom, are you blue?" Marcus asked as he got in the car. His pack was on his back and his shirt had dirt from playing outside.
"I am okay," I said, but my voice sounded hollow.
Marcus stared at me a bit. Then he said, "Is it about the dude in the car? The one you showed in a picture?"
My heart sank way down low. "What are you even talking about?"
"You showed me him yesterday and asked if I knew the dude," Marcus said. "You said he was just a guy from work. But you looked mad when I saw him. And sad, too. Like you look right now."
I had shown Marcus James's face. I was trying to get him ready for the big truth. But I did it wrong. I let my mad side show, and now my son felt it.
"That man is someone I knew once," I said softly. "A lifetime ago."
"Do you still feel his ghost?" Marcus wondered aloud.
I could not find words then. It was a knotted truth. James was someone I now scorned for his acts. Yet, echoes of love lingered still. I recalled his old way of seeing me, like my soul glowed brightest. That thought sparked rage, a phantom of false love. His love was never what my heart had dreamed.
"No," I breathed out at last. "I feel no ghost now."
Marcus gazed into outside world. "You seem so sad, though. Folks often feel blue when lost loves fade away."
I was silent, stunned by it. My boy spoke a truth that pierced through me.
Back home, I tucked Marcus in, then found my room. I sank to my bed's edge, phone in hand. James sent a new call. This time, his face wanted to speak.
I froze, watching the bright screen. My hands began their dance. I craved no talk. I was not set yet. My final act had not reached end. James's destruction was not complete.
Still, I tapped the green light.
James filled the screen at once. He looked so worn, so drained. His eyes, bloodshot, betrayed tears unshed. His hair was wild. His face needed a razor's touch.
"I saw him," James began, voice cracking. "I saw our boy from long ago. He is my echo, Diane. Why the hidden years? Why keep my own from me?"
I gaped to end call, yet James spoke words that made me still.
"I see the moves you pull. I see you try to wreck me, and I get it. I know that I messed up. One shot to know my boy. Then take all from me. Take every single thing. But let me know my son."
The line then went hushed. James hoped I would speak. And after ten long years, I had no words at all.
- Writer
