PART 10 – Abby Asked Me One Simple Question About Her Aunt, and I Realized How Much of Our Family’s Hurt I Had Been Asking Her to Ignore

The next morning, Abby came into the kitchen while I was preparing breakfast.

She had already dressed for school.

Her old coat was buttoned up, and she was holding her gloves in one hand.

"Mom, are you going to talk to Aunt Marla?"

I turned away from the stove.

"I might."

"Are you still angry with her?"

I set the spoon down.

I hadn't expected that question.

I was angry, but that wasn't the whole truth.

I was hurt by the way Marla had treated me.

I was worried about whatever she was hiding.

And I was ashamed that Abby had been pulled into a situation she couldn't possibly understand.

"I'm upset about what happened," I said.

Abby looked down at her gloves.

"She was mean to you yesterday, wasn't she?"

I didn't answer immediately.

I had spent so much time trying to protect my daughter from adult problems that I hadn't noticed how much she already understood.

Children hear more than we think.

They notice the pauses, the expressions, and the way a room changes when someone walks into it.

"Sometimes adults don't speak to each other the way they should," I told her.

"Does that mean she's not going to like us anymore?"

My heart sank.

I moved closer and straightened the collar of her coat.

"You don't have to earn anyone's love by letting them treat you badly."

Abby looked at me for a long moment.

Then she nodded.

I wasn't sure she understood every word.

Perhaps she didn't need to.

I kissed her forehead and sent her off to school.

After the door closed, I stood in the hallway.

The jacket was still there.

I had moved it away from the front door the night before, but it remained impossible to ignore.

I picked it up and carried it into the kitchen.

The material felt soft beneath my fingers.

I remembered Abby's excitement when she first saw it.

I remembered how she had turned toward the mirror and checked the pockets.

I had wanted that moment to be a happy memory.

Now I couldn't look at the jacket without thinking about Marla's face.

I placed it on the table and sat down.

My phone was beside the eighty dollars I had taken from the drawer.

I looked at my sister's number.

I was tired of waiting.

I called her.

She answered after several rings.

"What do you want, Jen?"

There was no greeting.

I closed my eyes briefly.

"I want to understand what happened yesterday."

"Nothing happened."

"Then why did you come to my home demanding the jacket?"

"I already explained that."

"No, you didn't."

She sighed.

I could hear movement in the background, but I couldn't tell where she was.

"Are we going to argue about this again?"

"I'm not trying to argue."

"Then stop bringing it up."

I looked at the jacket.

"Marla, Abby found something in the pocket. You acted frightened when I told you."

There was a silence.

I held the phone more tightly.

"Do you know what she found?"

"No."

The answer came quietly.

I couldn't tell whether she was telling the truth.

"Then why did you want the jacket back so badly?"

"Because I changed my mind."

"That doesn't explain anything."

She made a frustrated sound.

"Jen, you always need an explanation for everything."

I nearly laughed.

I had asked for one simple answer.

She had turned it into another accusation against me.

I tried once more.

"If there's something wrong with that jacket, I need to know. Abby is the one who found it."

Marla's voice hardened.

"Keep her out of this."

"She's already involved. She found the object."

"Then don't let her touch it again."

I sat very still.

She had said almost the same thing the day before.

I wanted to ask her why.

Instead, I said, "I'm not giving you the jacket until you tell me the truth."

She didn't answer for several seconds.

Then she spoke in a low voice.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

The words unsettled me.

I had expected another insult.

I had expected her to tell me I was being dramatic or difficult.

I hadn't expected that.

"What does that mean?"

"Forget it."

"Marla—"

She ended the call.

I stared at the phone.

For a moment, I could hear nothing except my own breathing.

I had wanted to believe there was a simple explanation.

Perhaps Marla had made a mistake.

Perhaps she was embarrassed.

Perhaps she was worried about something involving Kayla and didn't know how to explain it.

But her words had left me with more questions than before.

I put the phone down.

Then I looked at the jacket again.

I wasn't going to pretend I hadn't heard her.

Click here to continue reading: PART 11: My Sister Told Me to Keep Abby Out of It, but She Was the One Who Had Found the Thing Marla Could Not Bear to Explain