Page 38 of Tear Me Apart

Juliet’s face is neutral, though she touches Lauren’s hand gently. “I’m so sorry. Was this recent?”

“No. It happened when I was six months along. After Kyle left.” She ignores the shocked gaze of her little sister.

“Why you didn’t tell any of us?”

“You have to understand where I was at that time. Kyle was a raging asshole. I wanted a baby so badly, and he didn’t. I thought for sure once he got used to the idea, he would be thrilled, but I was wrong. I waited until I was really showing, until all the checks and tests were clear and there was no chance of the baby having any issues, and when I told him, he lost his mind. Punched me, punched my stomach, beat me up. And then he said he was filing for divorce and was thinking about taking a job at some bookstore in California. He was going to write, he claimed. He’d sold a short story to some little podunk magazine, and it sparked his creative streak. He’d always wanted to write novels and live at the beach, that I do know. But I thought for sure he’d want a family along with that dream. I was wrong.”

“So you miscarried when he beat you up? If he weren’t already dead, I’d kill him myself.”

“No, it was later, almost two months. Though I’m sure that’s what caused it. Something went wrong at that point. I never felt quite the same after. And when the blood started...he was long gone by then.”

Juliet is silent, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles are white.

“God, Lauren. I am so sorry. That couldn’t have been easy.”

Lauren nods. “It was a long time ago.”

“But Mindy?”

“When I was in the hospital, the doctor I saw was very sympathetic. She said I had a severe clotting disorder, that it was a miracle the baby made it as long as she had. She mentioned that the odds of me ever carrying to term were very, very low.” The words start to come faster and faster until they are a torrent. So many lies, mistruths, omissions—years of hiding the whole story. It pours out of her like a tsunami.

“It was devastating, and I probably wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should have been. I’d miscarried before, you see, a couple of times, but early, when I was only a few weeks along. I read up on multiple miscarriages, saw that the doctors were starting to recommend baby aspirin, took it for a couple of months, and voilà, got pregnant again. That time, it stuck.

“Then Kyle was a shithead, and I lost the baby, and this doctor was so kind, and she made it so clear I couldn’t have another. She said she had a patient, a teenager, who was going to have a baby right when mine had been due, who wanted to put it up for adoption. A little girl, just like mine.

“She set everything up for us. It was a closed adoption. The mother didn’t ever want to be contacted. I suspect she had been raped or something because she was so adamant about giving up the baby and moving on. I met her once, two days later. She was pretty. Haggard, too haggard to be that young. She took one look at me and hugged me, said, ‘Thank you, take care of her,’ and then I didn’t hear or see anything until the baby was born. The doctor called, I went to the hospital, and took her home.”

Juliet is shaking her head.

“But your party, your stomach... I mean, I saw you in the last couple of months. You weren’t huge, but you looked pregnant. You never said you weren’t pregnant.”

“I was ashamed. Miscarriage wasn’t as out in the open as it is now. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. And I knew this was going to be a perfect solution. I wanted the baby. She was mine, and we agreed, and the doctor helped everything go smoothly, I didn’t see any reason to say anything.”

Juliet steers the truck off I-70 onto the Dillon exit.

“You’ve been lying for more than seventeen years,” she says, turning into the parking lot of the restaurant.

“I haven’t. Mindy is my daughter. She has been since before she was born.”

“It’s still a lie of omission. My God, Lauren.”

“You don’t get to judge me, Juliet. You don’t know the things I’ve been through. You don’t know me at all. You were just a child. What was I supposed to do, confide in you? You were worried about school, a science fair if I recall. This was way above your pay grade.”

“I’m not judging. I’m just saying, I’m family. You could have told me. Did Mom know?”

“No one knew.”

Juliet puts the truck into Park, turns in her seat. The light is dim in the car; they are parked in the shadow of the restaurant, and though the sun is glowing on the frozen lake, this small corner of the lot is steeped in shadows.

“Tell me the rest, Lauren. Why am I not supposed to talk to Jasper?” Juliet asks, her teeth clenched.

Lauren blows out a breath. “Because he doesn’t know. I’ve never told him I’m not Mindy’s biological mother.”

19

The silence in the truck is overwhelming. The enormity of what Lauren has just confided hits Juliet, hard. Lauren closes her eyes as if she realizes it’s too late; she can’t take it back. That everything is going to come out now, and she is powerless against it. She begins to worry at her stained sleeve. Juliet lays her hand on Lauren’s, and she stills.

Juliet starts to speak and stops a few times. She has to admit, the relief she feels is overwhelming. The idea of a baby switched at birth was almost too much to bear. This—adoption—will tear Mindy apart, but at least she’ll know she was raised with Lauren and Jasper because she was wanted, not because of a fluke mistake. And another family won’t be dragged into the judicial morass, either.