Three Months Later
As I park my car in downtown Silver Spring, I notice the very first red leaf on a maple tree.
Fall has always felt like the real beginning of the new year to me.
The windows of the stores I walk by as I head to meet Finn all feature back-to-school sales, and I fight back the anxiety I feel about Rachel not going to college this fall.
Inside the Black Lion Café, Finn has grabbed a table in the corner.
The sound is loud in here, reverberating off the high ceilings, but I am thrilled that it doesn’t bother my head at all.
Headaches are rare these days, and while I still have not recalled all my memories of that awful night in June, a neurologist recently pronounced me recovered.
Physically, at least. The emotional recovery is taking a lot longer.
Finn rises as I come in, and we hug. Maybe it’s my imagination, but he feels more substantial than he did last June. I pull back and look at him—it’s not just the extra pounds, which he wears well, but a sense of solidness. Maybe it’s the finality of knowing what happened to Autumn.
“You look great,” I say.
“You do too.” He sits. “I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and ordered two tiramisus. Before I moved to Washington, I honestly didn’t even know what tiramisu was, and now it’s on my list of the top five things I can’t live without.”
“Perfect,” I say, pulling the plate closer to me. “You seem happy.”
“Do I? You know what? I think I am.”
“You like your new place, living in Silver Spring?”
“I love it. I have a tiny apartment—tiny—but it’s mine.
Muffinhead has adapted to apartment living, and there’s a dog park nearby.
I love my new job at the Silver Spring Library, which I can walk to; plus, there’s cafés, farmers markets, a movie theater,” he says.
“And I’m near the Metro, of course. I’m almost done with my applications to grad school, so fingers crossed on that front.
And I’m seeing someone. So yeah. I’m good. ”
“And you basically solved a murder.” I point my fork at him.
“I had a little help. A lot of help. I’m just grateful that Jo and Daniel are pleading guilty so I won’t have to testify. I actually feel kind of bad for Van and Elo?se.”
“They’ll be okay. Believe me,” I say, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “They’re both at Stanford and they basically have access to all the family money now.”
“I’m glad it didn’t go to trial. I didn’t want to deal with that.”
“Me too. I feel the same way,” I say. “It would have been a media circus. And of course, it’s mostly thanks to Yumi’s testimony.”
“Yup. She saw Jo leave the house that night after the gunshots, and she accepted money from them to keep quiet. They didn’t have much of a defense. Were you surprised Yumi cooperated?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all. I think she felt horrible. I think she was glad to finally get it out in the open.”
“No consequences for her though.”
“Well, she was charged as an accessory after the fact to Autumn’s murder. She was given a sentence of one year’s probation and a suspended sentence of two years.”
“So basically nothing.”
“That’s not nothing. That’s pretty bad.”
“Wow, you guys are still friends.”
I sigh. “It’s complicated. She’s all alone in the world.
She just started dialysis this week. I haven’t really forgiven her for everything but at the same time …
I promised her, you know, that I would look after Ryan.
And so I kind of have to look after her too.
” I let out an exasperated sigh. “Let me rephrase that. I am choosing to, I don’t have to. ”
“You’re a better person than I am.”
“Am I? I’m not sure. I can’t seem to quite let go. I keep thinking about how if everyone hadn’t flipped out about the bracelet and come up with that idiotic plan of drugging me, they might never have been caught, right?”
“Yup. The Allards basically exposed themselves.”
“So arrogant. I mean, the worst that would have happened is that the police would have charged Van and Noah with some misdemeanor for breaking into Holly Stone’s house. They’d probably have gotten probation.”
Finn shakes his head. “The DNA. Jo cut herself the night she shot Autumn. She left blood in the bedroom when she was rifling through the drawers to make it look like a robbery. She must have known the police would create a DNA profile,” he says.
“And that if Van got arrested for the burglaries, and the police ran a DNA test on him, it would come back as a partial match for the DNA in Tori Price’s bedroom.
Detective Aziz told me they didn’t get a full profile, but they knew it was a female relative of the first degree. ”
“Meaning?”
“A mother, sister, daughter. In other words, Jo Allard.”
I stare out the window of the café as people walk by, finally seeing how it all clicked together. “It was a conspiracy, you know, and it feels like half the neighborhood was involved.”
“Is that why you moved?” Finn asks.
I shrug. “Yes and no. It felt like a message from the universe. Everything was lining up to tell me now was the time to make a big change. Not just what happened with the Allards, but my career, Rachel leaving home.” I smile at him. “I’m in Caren 2.0 mode.”
“It’s not boring living at the beach full-time?”
“Not so far. Of course, I haven’t lived there during winter, so we’ll see.
I love waking up, taking my coffee out to the back deck, and looking out over the bay.
There’s this one great blue heron that shows up every morning.
I’m working with the Rehoboth chamber of commerce on events.
It’s been busy this summer. I’m sure it will slow down in the off months, but I don’t mind.
You should come visit. We have plenty of room. ”
“I heard Rachel was in Norway?”
“Denmark. She’s taking a gap year before she starts college. She’s WWOOFing.”
Finn makes a face. “What’s that? Like working with dogs or something?”
“It stands for World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms. Basically, it’s free labor in exchange for room and board. There’s a network all across the globe.”
“And you’re okay with her not going to Georgetown?”
“I respect her for making that decision. I don’t know what she’s going to do next year, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was a little worried about her. She hasn’t exactly been responding to my emails and texts. But we’re trying to give her space.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “So you and Miguel…”
“We’re fine.” I bring a forkful of tiramisu up to my mouth.
We’re not fine. The bond between us that I took for granted for so many years has been broken.
But I made the decision that instead of throwing our marriage away, I would try to glue the pieces back together.
It would never look the way it once did, but I still love Miguel, and I know he loves me.
“Oh, I have something for you.” He pulls out a small package wrapped in brown paper. I open it up to find a framed tarot card. I take my glasses out of my bag and examine it closely. “The Ten of Cups. What does it mean?”
Finn shrugs. “According to some people, this is the card that represents found family. I kind of hate that phrase, but whatever.”
I bite down on my bottom lip to stop the tears from coming.
They come anyway and I dab at them with a paper napkin.
It’s been happening a lot these days, crying at random times.
When I hear a song on the radio that Rachel used to love, or when I pass by the Rehoboth arcade and remember the hours sitting outside on a bench reading while Rachel and Zach played inside.
I think about them out there in the world, and my mind wraps itself into crazy knots of panic.
Who am I without them, and am I ever not going to worry about these kids?
I look up at Finn, grateful that the universe has sent me a new person to love.
“I love it. I know exactly where I’m going to put it.
And I feel the same way, Finn. I think of you as family. ”
“Logical, not biological,” he says.
“I like that.”
“I didn’t make it up. Anna Madrigal did.”
“Who’s that?” I ask. “A friend of yours?”
He grins. “Umm, she’s one of the greatest literary creations ever. Have you never read Tales of the City?”
“No.” I take out my phone and text myself the title. “Who wrote it? I joined a book club out in Rehoboth, and it’s my turn to pick the book. Maybe I’ll choose that.”
“Book club?” He bursts out laughing, his face turning red.
“What is so funny?” I ask.
“Nothing. It’s just such a Caren thing to say,” he says, smiling. “But please don’t ever stop being Caren.”