Take the Heat

Acquitted

Giselle Renarde

“I can’t believe I raised such a naive daughter.” Her mother set down the knife and said, “You really think he’s innocent, don’t you?”

Lucy’s spine straightened vertebra by vertebra against the wooden chair rail. “Me and twelve members of the jury.”

“She doesn’t just think he’s innocent,” Caroline said, clasping Lucy’s hand. “Sean is innocent.”

“Thank you, Caroline.” Lucy glared across the kitchen. “It’s nice to have somebody’s support in this family.”

Their mother went on chopping carrots and said nothing.

“People like you don’t even care about the truth. You just believe what you want to believe.” Lucy started feeling itchy all over. That was her body’s new reaction to this interminable argument—burning up from the inside out. “Can you even imagine how it would impact your life, being wrongly accused?”

“And of murder,” Caroline said softly. She didn’t mention the rape charge¸ but that was just as well.

The kitchen filled with the metronomic sound of Mom slicing carrots, smashing her knife against the cutting board like she had a bone to pick with that block of wood.

Lucy’s blood boiled. What was point? She’d tried; she’d failed. Grabbing her purse, she said, “I can’t take any more of your judgmental bullshit. I’m outta here.”

Her mother slammed down the knife as Caroline pleaded, “Don’t go. At least stay for dinner.”

“I’m making your favorite,” Mom said.

“Yeah, well I never asked you to,” Lucy shot back. “The only thing I ever asked was for you to be nice to the man I love. Why can’t you treat him like a human being?”

“Because,” her mother shouted. “There’s someth

ing off about that boy. You’re still young, Lucy. You don’t see it. You don’t understand that charming isn’t the same as good. In fact, the charmers are the ones you have to watch out for.”

“Yeah right, Mom. You would know.” Lucy looked to her sister for back-up, but Caroline’s mouth hung mutely open. “Just because you have lousy taste in men doesn’t mean I do.”

Lucy didn’t stick around for the retort. She stamped out the door, slamming it behind her just like she used to as a teenager. It bugged the hell out of her that her own mother couldn’t be supportive of her relationship. What was the point in hating all her boyfriends? It only made Lucy cling to them tighter.

Mothers didn’t understand anything.

When she got home, Sean looked up from the TV. “Hey, I thought you were eating at your mom’s house.”

“No,” Lucy grumbled.

Sean turned off the television and rose from the couch. “Hey, hey now... why the long face?”

Lucy shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something, I bet.” He wrapped his arms around her, and as soon as the warmth of his skin played off hers, she lost it. “Tell me all about it, babe. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She soaked his top with tears as she stammered, “She always does this, every time I love someone, but it’s worse with you. She thinks you did it.”

“And that makes you wonder if I did?”

“No!” Lucy pulled back so she could look him in the eye. “Sean, no, never. If I thought for a second that you did it, would I even be here right now? Would I have let you move in with me?”

“I don’t know,” he said, with what might have been a smirk on his lips.

She whacked him on the shoulder. “Come on, dude, you know I have faith in you.”

“Oh, yeah?” He wove his arms around her body, hugging her forcefully enough that breath fled her lungs. “It’s too bad you’re the only one.”