What She Forgot (What She 2)

“I’m her friend, too,” Aubrey said.

I startled for a minute, but it was true. Aubrey and I had gotten over what had initially caused her to hate me so much, and we’d become good friends. I’d even been around Mal a few times without wanting to wrack him by the balls. And their kids, their kids were amazing. I couldn’t figure out how Mal had made such wonderful little beings, but I enjoyed spending time with each and every one of them. About a year ago, I had taught their youngest daughter to throw a hatchet end over end and she hit the bullseye perfectly every time. She was a prodigy, and I intended to help her perfect her weaponry usage. All within reason. Which means within whatever parameters Mal and Aubrey would allow.

I still couldn’t get over the idea that some parents didn’t want their kids to be good at throwing axes. It seemed like a wasted skill to me.

“She’s five!” Mal had bellowed at me when he’d found out where I’d taken her that day.

“So?” I’d asked, genuinely clueless.

Mal had looked at Aubrey and said, “You’re going to have to keep her in check.”

I had assumed he was referring to me, and not to his little angel. Aubrey had snorted and said, “Yeah, right.”

“When you have a child of your own…” Mal had started to say. Then he’d stopped, his face coloring.

“Why do I need a child of my own when I can spoil yours?” I’d asked. But deep inside, it felt like he’d stabbed me. Everyone knew that Will and I had been trying for a baby ever since we’d gotten married. I’d finally decided that I couldn’t do any more damage than Mal – he was Mal, after all – did with his own children. If he could successfully raise a family, then I could too. I might not see the world with the same rose-colored glasses everyone else wore, but I could still see it. I had a lot to offer a family. Will liked to say that I was multi-faceted, like a diamond. But I think that was just a nice way of saying I’m complicated.

What most people didn’t realize is that I had more love in my pinky toe than most people do in their whole body. I needed to share it with the right people. Any child Will and I created would be lucky to have us.

A man popped his head into the room and said crisply, “Two minutes.”

I turned sideways, analyzing myself in the mirror. I’d chosen blue pants with a matching jacket for my talk show debut. I had on high heels and I wore no jewelry aside from my wedding ring and the bracelet that Will had given me three years ago.

“Thirty seconds,” the man said, his voice more urgent than the last time.

I turned to follow him as someone came to lead Aubrey and Lynn to their seats. Mal and Mason were already seated, as was MeeMaw. That woman had given me more love than anyone I’d ever met in my life. She’d taken me under her wing and loved me like she loved Will, and that was something I’d never had. I’d never had that motherly influence. The mother I did have was not one I wanted to emulate. But MeeMaw… well, I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. I wanted to be open-minded, forthright, and kind. Most of all, I desperately wanted to be kind.

The stage director motioned for me to follow him onto the stage where Will already sat with the host of the talk show. They put a mic on me and I sat down next to Will.

“Hi,” I said with a grin.

“Hello, yourself,” he said quietly. “I missed you.”

“You two are adorable,” the host said quietly, and then the countdown began.

She asked us about our success solving crimes.

“My wife has a way of getting to the truth,” Will said.

She asked about the awards and medals we’d received from the governor and the president, and she asked about what we were up to personally.

Then she brought up Marley, and it was all I could do not to squirm in my seat. Marley had been institutionalized ever since that night when I shot Will, but she – or Megan – had written a tell-all book from behind bars, where she’d “told-all” about me and Will. It had become a best seller and had stayed on the best-seller list for seventeen weeks.

“Marley is getting the help she needs so

she can get better.”

“Have you seen her?” the host asked, her smile not slipping as she addressed me.

“I tried to go visit her when she was first institutionalized, but her alters are not so welcoming, so I stopped.”

“So, Marley is gone?” the host asked, her voice falling. Everyone knew Marley’s story because of the book.

“It’s been years since anyone has seen Marley,” Will admitted. He reached over and took my hand. “But we know that she’s safe, and that’s what matters. We care deeply about her recovery.”

He’d practiced that line in bed about twenty times last night, because he’d known it would come up.

“The book didn’t mention Riley James at all,” the host said, and I cringed again.