Dear Mia,
You remember that indie band at Moonlight? The hot lead guitarist approached me when you went to the bathroom. I was uncomfortable, but I couldn't figure out why. It was like. . . like my body recognized me but my mind didn't. Well, Tanner approached and I could tell whatever it was I was feeling wasn't just in my head. He knew the guitarist too and he def didn't like him. Is he my stalker?
Love you,
M.F
One vague diary entry is how I ended up sitting opposite of Parker inside the bar I'd spent more time in this summer than my own house. Though I was still furious with Parker, I needed to bite the bullet for now; there was no way in hell Tanner would have accompanied me. He would have went based on logic and refused to allow me within a hundred feet of Nixon Stone after the stunt he'd pulled at the party. I was luckily able to get my mom to drive up and watch the twins for a couple hours, as Tanner was out and I knew without a doubt in my mind he would question where the hell we were going.
"That him?" Parker muttered, glancing up from his phone. I tore my eyes from him and looked to the door leading to the back of the building. Nixon and a tall, burly bald man with a Viking beard had come in and were in the midst of a heated conversation by the looks of it. The Viking guy's head was a bright red, shaking from side to side as he muttered under his breath, Nixon's blue eyes were as cold and empty as the last time I'd seen him, but the same fury was ignited as he conversated with the man.
Feeling eyes on him, Nixon turned his own on to me in seconds and color drained from his face in an instant. Whether it was because of our run in at the party and Tanner's threat or because he possibly thought he was staring at my dead sister, I wasn't sure. He started in our general direction, but I could tell by the speed in his walk that he had no desire to stop and talk. Unfortunately for him, Parker was twice his size and shifted seconds before he passed and caught his arm, spinning Nixon toward us so quickly he stumbled over his own feet and nearly crashed into Parker.
"Look, man, I don't know what you think I might know about what happened. But I know nothing."
I took my chances and walked around the table so I was beside Parker. "That's a load of crap. Tanner said you were at the party that night fighting with Maya. You were the last one to see her."
Nixon turned to me with a sneer. "I didn't do shit. We fought because she was being a whore and I left. I don't know where the hell she went after our argument. Bet she went to go suck some other guy off."
"She was killed an hour after Tanner saw you two at the party." I said. "You were the last one to see her alive. There was witnesses everywhere that saw you there."
He started forward, looking as if he were going to respond with physicality rather than words. Parker slammed his palm against the lankier boy's chest and shook his head with a warning look. "Touch her and I'll break your neck."
"I drove her back to her apartment." Nixon whispered, then louder added, "She'd had the twins like two weeks before that and decided to show up at a party where I was going to get wasted and tell me that the kids were mine."
I'd already come to the conclusion at the party that it was a huge likelihood that Nixon was the father of the kids, but Parker looked taken back, confused, but didn't get a chance to question it, because Nixon continued before he could.
"Some dude was there. Old as fuck. Watching the kids and was clearly pissed she was out so late."
Parker must have reached some sort of epiphany because he straightened suddenly and said, "What'd he look like?"
Nixon shrugged, "Dark hair and eyes, wearing a suit like he'd just gotten off work and found the kids there alone or something. Bitch was a horrible fucking mother."
I raised my hand, ready to slap him, but Parker caught my wrist and threw my hand back to my side.
"Was he wearing a cross on a chain?" Parker asked and my body grew rigid realizing what the gears in his head were working out. "Pompous ass attitude?"
"I guess." Nixon shrugged a shoulder. "He was a dick, but I figured it was because he was pissed at her. I didn't stay and chat it up with him. Sorry."
Parker grasped him by the collar of his shirt and the few people that were in the bar grew still in anticipation. "I guess doesn't fucking cut it bro. I need you to reach into that small ass brain and remember."
"Yeah, he was wearing a cross. He was really aggressive with her." Nixon said quickly, not testing his waters with Parker. "As I was closing the door, I caught him backhanding her in my peripheral."
I averted my gaze quickly and retreated back behind Parker.
"And you just let him?" Park questioned. "You saw a man hitting your girlfriend and you just walked away?"
"She wasn't my girlfriend. She was a chick I banged and ended up pregnant apparently. She was nothing but problems. Those issues she had with that dude had nothing to do with me."
Park shot me a curious look over his shoulder, as if he were waiting for confirmation that it was okay to release the man in his grip. I nodded slowly, and Parker dropped his hand from the collar of Nixon's black band shirt. Only the idiot didn't run for the door as I'd expected him to, he looked to me instead and said, "I'm sorry about the party. I hadn't heard about Maya's passing, and the last thing I wanted to do was see the bitch there. I was drunk too. Anger and alcohol don't mix well with me."
I only stared, not sure how to respond, because it was quite possibly one of the crappiest apologizes I'd ever heard. Not to mention my mind was elsewhere.
"The kids," Parker said suddenly. "you have no interest in them?"
"Hell no." Nixon answered with a bitter look toward the door. "I'm on my way to the top and those little shits would only be a road block. I'll sign over my rights or whatever if that's necessary."
Then, without another word, Nixon disappeared out the door and out on to the street. I grasped the back of the chair I'd been sitting in a few minutes before and looked up at Parker.
"You don't really think—"
He cut me off with a sharp look, "I guess we'll see, won't we?"
*
When we got back to the apartment, Tanner was sitting in the living room with my mother, but I could feel the anger radiating off him from where I stood in the doorway. He looked to Parker, and as if some silent words had been exchanged, Park pressed the door shut behind me and headed down the hall with Tanner in tow. My mother looked up from where she sat cradling Mickey against her chest, caressing the baby's porcelain like skin.
"Mom?" I lowered myself on to the couch beside her. "Are you okay?"
The rims of her eyes were red and puffy, bottom lip trembling and bitten raw. She'd likely been sitting and crying since we'd left; the botchy and tear stained cheeks were a good indication of it.
"Mom?" I outstretched my arm and squeezed her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"I never thought I'd outlive one of my children." She said, eyes fluttering shut. "I promised Darren and you girls the second I heard your heartbeats for the first time that I would protect you from everything, nothing would ever hurt you. But. . . but she's gone. She's really gone."
I closed the distance between us on the sofa and hugged my mother against my side, staring down at Michaela as she looked between us, big, innocent eyes full of such a childlike wonder it was a miracle I wasn't in the state my mother was in.
"I'm so sorry, Mia." she breathed against my shoulder. "If I'd tried harder, been a better mother, helped her through—"
"It wasn't your fault, Mom. Maya's decisions weren't your fault. They weren't mine. They were her own. And. . . and unfortunately it's what ultimately killed her."
That was not the right thing to say. She started crying again, her shoulders shaking against me. Careful not to startle her, I slipped my hands under my mother's and took Mickey from her before she could slip through my mother's trembling hands. I started to hug her against me when a tattooed hand shot into my line of sight and Parker nodded, gently doing the same I'd just done to my mother. He nodded slowly before he carried Michaela out of the room, cooing to her.
"Mom." I said once she'd recollected herself a little bit. "Where was Dad the night Maya died?"
My mother stiffened, lips parting, "He was in bed with me."
I blinked a few times, trying to process what my mother had just said.
She had just lied to my face.
"Nothing happened that night?" I decided not to call her out right away. "Maya didn't try to call you or anything?"
"I already told the detectives this, I don't need to talk about it with you." she said with an edge of bitterness in her voice. She stood, grabbing her purse, in a rush to leave now. "Your father was asleep in bed beside me. He had a long day at work."
I'd spent my entire childhood under the abusive hand of my father, had watched my mother be victim to the same as my brother, sister, and myself. I'd always questioned why she never put us first, why she didn't get us out of there before our father could seriously screw us up. She remained glued to his side, agreeing to everything he suggested, being his lap dog. While my brother ended up with a cleans slate, my sister and I had grown up with major issues. Maya had bipolar disorder, depression, had chased popularity and alcohol as a way to escape the horror she'd endured. I'd ended up with anxiety, anti-social; I was a people pleaser and tried my best to be everything to meet everyone's expectations and standards. But my mother still stood before me, lying, pretending as she always had.
"Mom, if he—"
"Your father was with me." She spat the words nastily this time, and when she turned her eyes on me, I couldn't help but shudder. Gone was the broken, fragile woman on the couch moments ago. In her place was a cruel liar. She was willing to protect whatever it was that my father was hiding over revealing possibly case altering information. "And do yourself a favor, Mia, and keep your nose out of the professionals work. They know what they're doing. You're only going to get yourself hurt."
I watched my mother slam the door shut behind her in shock, mouth agape as I tried to comprehend what just happened.
"Mia." Tanner touched one of his large hands to my shoulder. "You okay?"
"She. . . she just lied to me." Hearing the words aloud made it even worse.
"What do you mean?"
I looked to him, expecting to find the anger still darkening his eyes. All I found was his curious doe eyes staring down at me expectantly.
"Nixon said that my father was at Maya's place when he dropped her off that night. My mom just said Dad was in bed beside her all night."
"You believe that piece of shit over your own mother?"
I kept my eyes trained straight ahead. "I know my mother and I know she was lying."
"But why?" Tanner asked, confused. "Why the hell would she lie about your father being there?"
The tightening cold knot in my stomach nearly sent me to the bathroom.
"Mia?" Tanner must have seen the look on my face, because he moved so he was in front of me. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"She's lying for him." I repeated.
His thick eyebrows drew in confusion. "I know. We just discussed that. But why would she?"
I couldn't verbalize an answer. I didn't want to. Because the same cold, sick feeling spreading from my stomach throughout the rest of my body was the same I felt the day Darren and I had stepped foot out of his car in front of her Weekly. My mother was lying through her teeth, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know why.