Tiny Little Fractures

Chapter Fourteen

My mom kept a close watch on me the days following my anniversary. She called to check on me and then brought dinner over again the next night. She only spent the first night with me since she had her own life and all that. She didn’t need to spend all of her time with her slowly deteriorating adult daughter. I don’t doubt that she would have—if she knew about the deteriorating part.

She stopped by my house with dinner again the next night. It was a*****e-bought chicken, but I was grateful for it since I hardly ever fed myself real food. I helped her get plates down from the cupboard as she unloaded the bag. These plates had been a wedding gift. I couldn’t remember who got them for us. I just remember opening them after we got home from our honeymoon. I lifted one up to show Jon and he said they were nice. I sat them down on the counter.

“What would you do if you found out Dad was still alive?” I asked my mom. She reacted just as I expected. Usually when I brought up my dad she just got really quiet. This time my words seem to startle her because I’d never asked them before.

“I’ve thought about it probably a million times,” she told me as she pulled the lid off of the chicken container.

“If you found out that there was a chance he might still be alive—would you do everything you could to find him?” She sliced the roast chicken and thought it over.

“I identified his body, sweetheart. There’s no way he could still be alive.”

“Let’s say that you didn’t see him. Let’s say that you never saw for sure that he was dead and suddenly—years later—you began to suspect that wasn’t true. What would you do?” She slid a slab of meat onto a plate and reached for the container of tortillas.

“Nothing,” she said. That wasn’t quite the answer I was hoping for. But like I said, my mother never gave you the answer you wanted just because you wanted it. “Why not?”

“Because if your dad were alive he’d be with me. If he were alive and not with me—then it would mean he didn’t want to be with me. So I would do nothing."

“You wouldn’t even try to get some answers out of him?”

“No. If he wanted to give me answers he would.” She went back to serving our plates and I watched. Would it be better if I did absolutely nothing? Just let Jon do what he wanted and be there to listen if he decided to come into the light again?

“Do you ever think Jon might still be alive?” I asked her. She nodded.

“All the time,” she replied.

“Why?” She shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just wishful thinking. I did love that boy. Very much. I’ve known him since he showed up at my house with skinned knees and messy curls, asking if you could come play with him. He was my family. And just like you—I never had closure either.” She handed me a plate and looked at me again. Her dark brown eyes were lined with wrinkles and I studied them as she stared me down.

“What would you do if he was alive?” I asked her.

“I’d do everything in my power to bring him home.”

“Why him and not Dad?”

“If Jon were alive—my daughter would be too. And I’d give anything to have my little Sammy back.”