Checking to make sure I wouldn’t be seen sneaking out of my daughter’s room—Mark would be apoplectic if he discovered what I’d done—I crept out into the hall and back into our bedroom and shut the door.
Then I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Ben’s number.
“Heading into work, Ali, I can’t talk long.”
“Did you know about Mom and Bobbi?” I sat down on our neatly made bed.
“Huh?”
“That they were more than friends? That Mom was… was in love with her?” I kept my voice low, not wanting Mark to come up and hear.
“Umm, no. It never exactly came up. She told you this?”
“Well, no. Actually, she told Izzy.”
There was a long pause. “And why, exactly, would she tell Izzy?”
“Izzy was interviewing her—she’s doing a video project. About Mother being here. She’s doing a video diary that she’s hoping to turn into a documentary.”
“So Izzy’s spending time alone with Mother?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Jesus, Ali! You should be supervising. Who knows what she might say or do.”
“Ben, honestly, she’s not in any shape to do much of anything but lie in bed.” I bit my lip, wanting to snap:Not that you would know. I felt a littlecurl of resentment—he was off in California, choosing to have nothing to do with this, while my mother was here, in my home, dying. But it had all been my choice, hadn’t it?
“And the girls are both really bonding with her,” I told my brother, defending myself and my decisions. “Mark loves her too. They played cards all afternoon.”
Oh, and she told me her real name is Azha and she’s actually a demon. I decided to hold back on this particular bit of news for now.
“Great. That’s just great. It really warms the cockles of my heart to hear it.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“About Mother and Bobbi? Do you think it’s true?”
“It’s a strange thing to lie about if it’s not,” Ben said.
I thought of what Izzy had said when my mother first arrived, how Mother was trying too hard, that she was saying and doing all the right things, but they seemed fake.
“Unless…”
“What?” Ben asked.
“Unless it’s a way to get to Izzy. To gain her trust. Izzy told Mother about her girlfriend, Theo. And that’s when Mother told her about Bobbi.”
Maybe my mother was showing everyone exactly what they wanted to see, doing whatever it took to win them over.
Except that, in my heart, my mother’s confession didn’t surprise me in the least.
“But it all makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, part of me feels like I kind of knew it all along.”
“Does it matter?” my brother asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, does it matter if it’s true or not? It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t give her an excuse for who she is, or was, or the things she did. Having some secret lesbian affair changes nothing, Ali. Maybe she did love Bobbi. Maybe she was miserable about having to live this double life, devastated when her true love died. But honestly, this wholeThe Price ofSaltkind of secret history doesn’t excuse her. What about all the closeted gay people from back then whodidn’tbecome abusive narcissists? If anything, if it is true—it makes it worse.”
“Worse how?”
