I turned toward Abby.
"Sweetheart, can you show me what you found again?"
She looked at her aunt first.
Marla shook her head.
"There's no need to bring it out again."
I stared at her.
"You just asked what it was."
"I said there's no need."
Her voice had become sharp.
Abby drew her hands close to her chest.
I immediately regretted letting the argument continue in front of her.
"Go sit in the living room for a minute," I told my daughter. "I'll come speak to you soon."
She hesitated.
I touched her shoulder.
"You're safe, honey."
She walked away slowly.
I watched until she disappeared around the corner.
Then I faced Marla again.
"Now you can tell me what's going on."
She pressed her lips together.
I waited.
The refrigerator hummed behind us, and somewhere outside, a car passed along the street.
Ordinary sounds.
An ordinary morning.
Yet I felt as though one wrong sentence could change everything between us.
Marla reached into her handbag.
She pulled out a folded stack of bills.
"I brought the eighty dollars."
She held the money toward me.
I didn't take it.
"You came prepared to pay me back before you even knew whether I would agree to return the jacket."
"I told you I wanted it."
"And I told you I wanted an explanation."
She pushed the money onto the table.
The bills landed beside the jacket.
"Fine. Keep the money. Give me the coat."
I looked at the cash.
Yesterday, I would have been relieved to see those bills.
I could have bought groceries.
I could have stopped worrying about what we would eat for the next several days.
Now the money looked like a distraction.
I didn't know what Marla was trying to prevent, but I knew she wanted me to stop asking questions.
"Why did you call me so early?" I asked.
"Because I changed my mind."
"No. You were scared before you even asked for it back."
She shook her head.
"You always think everything has some hidden meaning."
Perhaps I did.
Life after Tom's death had made me suspicious of promises.
People said they would help, then disappeared.
They told me things would get better, then expected me to smile when they didn't.
But I wasn't imagining the way Marla had reacted when I mentioned the pocket.
I had watched her face.
I had seen the brief silence.
She knew something.
Maybe she knew exactly what Abby had found.
Maybe she only suspected it.
Either way, she wasn't behaving like someone who simply regretted selling a used jacket.
I folded my arms.
"Did you know there was something inside it?"
Marla looked away.
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
I felt a chill move through me.
"Then why are you so worried?"
"I'm not worried."
She picked up the money and pushed it toward me again.
"Take it, Jen."
I left it on the table.
She gave a frustrated sigh.
"You have no idea how much trouble you're causing."
The words hurt more than they should have.
I had spent the previous day giving her the last money I had.
I had swallowed her insults because I wanted to keep Abby warm.
Now she was standing in my home, blaming me for refusing to obey her.
I looked at the jacket.
Its zipper was slightly crooked near the collar.
One sleeve had folded beneath the other.
It looked like an ordinary child's coat.
Nothing about it explained the fear in my sister's eyes.
"Marla, I am not trying to cause trouble."
"Then stop asking questions."
She reached for the jacket again.
I moved it away from her.
"Not yet."
She stared at me.
I could tell she wanted to shout.
Instead, she took a deep breath and lowered her voice.
"Listen to me. Whatever Abby found, it doesn't belong to you."
I felt my stomach tighten.
She had finally said something that sounded like an answer.
Not a complete answer.
Not even a clear one.
But enough to make me wonder whether the thing inside the pocket mattered far more than the jacket.
"What is it, Marla?"
She shook her head.
"I can't explain this right now."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't."
I almost told her to leave.
I almost picked up the money and threw it back into her handbag.
But I wanted the truth more than I wanted to win an argument.
And I didn't want Abby growing up believing that the loudest person in the room always got what they wanted.
I stepped away from the table.
"Then we're going to wait until you can."
Marla's face hardened.
She looked toward the living room, then back at me.
For a moment, I thought she might finally tell me something useful.
Instead, she reached for the door.
"You're making a mistake, Jen."
I didn't follow her.
She left without taking the jacket.
The money remained on the table.
I stood in the doorway until I heard her footsteps fade.
Then I closed the door and turned the lock.
My hands were trembling.
I had no idea what the next hour would bring.
But I knew I couldn't let Abby see me fall apart.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: After Marla Left, I Tried to Return to Our Ordinary Morning, but the Jacket on the Table Would Not Let Me Forget Her Reaction
I Thought the Hardest Thing After My Husband’s Death Was Learning to Live Without Him, Until My Sister Put a Price on My Daughter’s Warmth
Part 6 of 24
