Another sob broke free. How could she have been so completely taken in by a charlatan?
It’s not fair. The phrase echoed through her head with slightly less volume than it once had. Not fair not fair not fair. It had been the mantra of her every breakdown once, but now it was only weary anger. Life wasn’t fair to most people, after all. At least she’d chosen that man, even if he’d withheld very important information. Everett had been given no choice at all.
Jones had walked into the downtown St. Louis coffee shop where she’d worked the summer after her first year of community college. He’d immediately introduced himself, saying, “You’re new here!” like she was a big surprise.
He’d only been three years past his own degree in accounting, so he’d stood out from the other white middle-class business guys who worked in St. Louis during the day before fleeing in a panic for the suburbs at night.
In fact, Jones had rented a cool little loft apartment in the minuscule tourist area of town, near the arch. Lily had been sharing an apartment in the much larger and shittier area of downtown past the railroad station, so he’d started offering advice about nearby take-out food. Then he’d asked if she’d like to grab take-out with him.
He hadn’t been the most handsome man in the world, but he’d thoroughly seduced her. At twenty-five, he’d seemed light-years ahead of boys her own age. He’d taken her on real dates, planned weekend trips, he’d turned all his charm and focus on her, on Lily, and she had soaked it up like a plant growing toward an open window.
When she’d started classes in the fall, it had felt so much harder than before. All her time spent on dry homework and her minimum-wage job just so she could pay for more boring classes. When Jones had asked her to move out of her roach-infested sublet and into his bright and airy loft, she’d voiced only a token resistance. With no rent payment, she could cut her work hours and spend more time with Jones. Then when she’d gotten pregnant . . .
God, she’d fallen head over heels for that man, and she’d tumbled along for years, blindly in love.
She could see now how he’d wheedled his way into every nook and cranny of her many dysfunctions. A girl with a faint memory of a steady father who’d come home every night to their beautiful house . . . until he hadn’t. Until he’d left for a younger, less volatile woman and started a new family. A father who’d drifted in and out of Lily’s dull life before disappearing completely once the new kids had been born.
She’d craved stability. She could see that now. She’d dreamed of her own perfect nuclear family as her mom moved from shitty boyfriend to shitty boyfriend and her dad forgot her birthday year after year.
Jones had offered Lily her dream before she was even out of her teens. It could have been raining red flags and she wouldn’t have noticed past their weekend trips to look at model homes, then their weekend trips to big-box furniture stores, then the emotional trip to an obstetrician to confirm the pregnancy test.
She’d walked away from college and friends and her job, and she’d sunk herself deep into the world of Jones.
The fictional world of Jones.
She’d been steeped in it, completely submerged. When her father had died unexpectedly from a massive heart attack, she hadn’t been sure she wanted to attend the funeral, but Jones had insisted, and so they’d gone. And that had been the start of a dream that had morphed into a nightmare while she wasn’t looking.
Once he’d clapped eyes on the idyllic little town of Herriman, he’d begun talking ceaselessly about giving Everett the perfect life, and Lily had been a dry sponge primed to soak up the fantasy.
Yes, a smaller town would be better than the St. Louis suburbs. Yes, there’d be a stronger sense of community and deep ties. They could build something in Herriman. Give their son security and love and roots. She still had family there, after all. Her father was dead, but he’d left a wife and sons behind.
Before Everett was a year old, they’d packed up for the Kansas plains. She’d never said it out loud, but she’d expected a mildly warm welcome from her father’s family. She hadn’t gotten it. Someone had finally broken the news to her that her half brothers had been unaware of her existence until she’d arrived for the funeral. She’d crashed her own dad’s funeral, adding to his new family’s grief.
Later she’d added to the grief of a whole small town, because she’d led a wolf to their door.
She could still feel the cold water from the kitchen tap splashing over her fingers. She’d been washing grapes for Everett when that echoing knock had boomed through the house, banging off hardwood floors and tasteful beige walls. She remembered cocking her head, only vaguely concerned. Then armed officers had swarmed onto her deck and approached the back door, and the twisted world of Jones had swallowed her whole.