Chapter Three #3
Dawn Lowry hung her head. She’d started crying at some point during Samantha’s tirade, and now the tears were flowing freely down her cheeks, ruining her makeup. It should’ve felt great. It should’ve felt like justice.
Instead, I just felt cold.
Because we’d done this before. The catharsis was real, but it was the same catharsis.
My babygirl had already kicked Warren and Dawn Lowry out of our lives at our wedding—this was just Dawn’s attempt to crawl back into Samantha’s good graces.
Either that or Victoria Ruocchio had put her up to it and given her something awful to say in the middle of the interview.
And I noticed something else, too.
I’d seen Dawn Lowry cry. It was about all she’d done at the wedding. But those had been crocodile tears: big, theatrical, the kind of thing that would make you roll your eyes in a high-school theater play.
But these? These felt real.
Samantha’s mother was upset.
Dawn turned to Fiona. “That’s a hell of a speech,” she said, trying to marshal some of her earlier energy. “And a hell of a story. But the truth is…”
She trailed off. Slowly, she turned back to her daughter.
“The truth…”
Wrinkles appeared in the corner of Dawn’s eyes as she tried and failed to hold back the tears, which already made what was happening seem more real than what I’d seen at the wedding.
“No,” Dawn whispered.
Samantha was still standing in front of her, looking flummoxed. “No what?”
Dawn shook her head. “I’m not doing this,” she muttered. The words sounded like they were meant for Samantha, but Dawn seemed to be talking to herself. “It’s not worth it. Nothing is worth this. I’m not this person anymore.”
My babygirl forced out a laugh. “You’re not making any sense—”
“Samantha,” Dawn said in a broken whisper. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
Samantha shook her head and wiped her cheeks. “I don’t know why you came here. Unless our mutual friend whose name starts with a ‘V’ put you up to it.”
“She did.”
That wasn’t what Samantha had expected. We’d both figured Dawn Lowry would rather gnaw her own arm off than admit to an actual act of wrongdoing. To be so cavalier about it rocked my babygirl back on her heels.
“She did, and she told me not to tell you, and I’m going to anyway.
Because she’s not worth it—and you are.” Dawn’s voice picked up energy as she spoke.
“Yes, Victoria told me you were going to be on Call Your Daddy. She offered me a very large sum of money to come onto this podcast today and wait for you to tell that story about Chloe.”
Samantha’s nostrils flared. I could see how the mention of her former friend dredged up all kinds of feelings, most of them confusing. “Why?”
“Victoria tracked Chloe down,” Dawn explained.
“She bribed your friend to make a signed statement that nothing ever happened between her and your father. More than that, she was paid to say that she stopped being friends with you after several instances of erratic behavior that made her worry about your mental health.”
I don’t think I’d ever seen my babygirl so shocked. “Chloe… Chloe did that!?”
Dawn nodded. “The interview was a setup. I was supposed to provoke you into losing your temper by convincing Fiona you’re a liar.
” She swallowed hard. “Right now, I’m supposed to be giving a whole speech making you look like you’ve lost your marbles.
Victoria said she’d give me a bonus if I actually got you to attack me.
Watching you hit your own mother would ‘turn the public against you on a dime’, she said.
She’d make me a very rich woman post-divorce if I managed to do that. ”
“Who is Victoria?” Fiona asked.
“What do you mean, divorce?” demanded Samantha.
“I won’t do it,” Dawn said, trembling in her seat. “I’ve already done more than enough to you, Samantha. I enabled your father for years. I… I put our needs over the needs of our children. Warren needed help after what happened with Chloe—professional help—and I let him off the hook.”
He needed worse than that, I thought.
“Mom, what the fuck—”
“Yes, I’m getting divorced,” Dawn said. “I’m done with doing what I’m told. I’m leaving Warren, and I’m trying… I’m trying to make things right as much as I can. With you, with your sister, and with your brothers. But you especially, Samantha.” Her lips trembled. “My baby. My little girl.”
Samantha shook her head in amazement. A laugh escaped her, half-scornful and half in disbelief. “What’s gotten into you, Mom? You grow a conscience all of a sudden?”
Dawn set her shoulders and braced herself.
And that’s when I realized I already knew what she was going to say.
Because she wasn’t bracing herself for the words that were about to come out of her mouth. She was readying herself for Samantha’s reaction to them. To what had been written across her face this whole interview if we’d been looking for it.
We’d misjudged her.
She was here to watch a bomb go off in Samantha’s life, but not the one Victoria Ruocchio had wanted to give her.
“Samantha.” Dawn took my babygirl’s hand.
She already had her own.
“Sweetheart. I’m dying.”