Emma slid the photographs back into the envelope. “That’s what my therapist said too.”
She looked over at Makarowicz. “Thank you for these. I don’t have many photos of her. Or of us together as a family.”
The cop coughed, clearing his throat. “You know, just because you’ve lost someone you loved, that doesn’t mean you have to stop living yourself.”
“I get that now,” Emma said softly. She stood up to leave, tucking her book and the envelope into her backpack.
“You take care of yourself, you hear?” Mak said. “And keep in touch.”
Hattie felt a pang of guilt as she watched Lanier’s daughter walk away.
“Emma?”
The girl came back to the table, waiting.
Hattie brought her change purse out of her bag, unzipped it, and removed the green scapular.
“This was in your mom’s wallet, along with the photos. I knew it was wrong but for some reason, instead of turning it over to the cops, I kept it.”
She held it out. “Here. This is yours.”
Emma took the scapular and pressed it into Hattie’s hand, gently folding Hattie’s fingers over the square.
“You keep it. You gave me back my mom. I think that’s a fair trade.”
74
Icebreakers
Two weeks passed. Hattie was back at her desk at Kavanaugh & Son, trying to find a new old house to rehab. Cass rolled her desk chair up next to Hattie’s. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah. What about?”
“A couple things. First, I went over to the district attorney’s office today and gave a victim impact statement. About Holland Creedmore, and, you know, what he did to me.”
“That’s great, Cass,” Hattie said. She glanced over at Zenobia, who was on the phone, and lowered her voice. “How did it go?”
“Don’t worry about Mom. I finally told her everything last night. She fussed at me a little, for keeping it bottled up all these years, but then she pointed out that I was just a kid, and kids do dumb things. We both cried.”
“I’m glad you finally told her.”
“It was my therapist’s idea. Anyway, today I met with a woman at the DA’s office who prosecutes sex crimes. She’s pretty cool. About our age, not at all judgy. The bad news is, the statute of limitations has already run out, because I didn’t report it within seven years of the time of the sexual assault. So Junior can’t be prosecuted for what he did to me.”
“Well, damn,” Hattie said.
“It’s okay. The assistant DA says my statement can be included in the sentencing file they give to the judge. It might not make a difference, but at least I made the effort. And you know what? The minute I walked out of that office, I felt like a huge burden had been lifted. No more guilt, or shame. Literally, I felt lighter.”
Hattie hugged her best friend. “Cass, I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m kind of proud of me too.”
“We should have a girls’ night tonight, to celebrate,” Hattie said. “We could do Mexican, and if you’re nice, in between margaritas, I’ll let you help me finish tiling my kitchen backsplash.”
“You’re working on your kitchen again? What brought that on?”
“Boredom, maybe? I was so proud of the kitchen we did over at Chatham Avenue, I thought, what’s stopping me from doing that in my own damn kitchen? We had a couple boxes of tile left over, and I already had the granite for my countertops, it’s been sitting in the backyard since…”
“Since Hank died,” Cass said gently. “The clocks stopped at your house the day he died.”
“They kind of did,” Hattie agreed. “I didn’t see any point in fixing up the house just for me. But this past week I’ve had this crazy surge of creative energy. Anyway, so you’ll come over tonight, right?”
“Actually, I might already have plans.”
“Might? What kind of plans?”
“That depends. There’s a guy I think I kind of like, and he asked me out, but I need to clear it with you first.”
“Me? I’m not your mom. You don’t need a permission slip from me to go on a date.”
“I kinda do,” Cass said, looking guilty. “The guy is Jimmy.”
“Jimmy Cates? Our roofer?”
“Formerly your Jimmy Cates,” Cass said. “I won’t go if…”
“Of course you’ll go,” Hattie said. “We only dated for, like, five seconds. Jimmy’s nice, but turns out he was a…”