Past Perfect Life Read online

  I realize, I really do, that I should have more compassion for this woman who is my mother. I don’t know her. So maybe I should try to understand her. To find out about my life before. So far she’s stayed with safe subjects: pictures and stories about family members. Knowing the good is fine and all, but I also need to understand the bad. How things between my parents could go so wrong that they were living apart. That Dad was convinced she was going to take me away from him.

  But would I believe her? Is she a trustworthy source?

  Dad is in jail now. Whatever happened between them had to have been bad for him to risk everything to get me away.

  “I don’t feel safe here,” I say, so quietly Marian doesn’t hear me.

  Is that really true, though? There’s nothing Paula or Craig has done to make me think they’re going to do something bad to me. It’s more that I don’t feel like myself here. Then there’s Sarah. I’m tempted to lock the bedroom door because who knows what she might do to me in the middle of the night.

  I kick the duvet off me and go over to the door and lock it, just in case.

  “My parents keep saying your mom should be given a chance,” Marian says, her voice also low.

  “I know. And I’m horrible for wanting to leave.”

  “No, you’re not,” Marian assures me. “Yeah, it sucks for Paula, and my mom feels bad for her, but what about you?”

  “Exactly. Am I being selfish for only thinking of me in all of this?”

  “Ally.” Marian uses the voice she reserves for whenever she needs to be blunt with Rob because he’s being an idiot. So she uses it a lot. “This is your life. And none of this is your fault. You shouldn’t be punished because of it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Besides, it’s only six months until you graduate. Then you can come up to school here. And we now have a sweet place to go to during winter break to de-ice ourselves. You can survive six months there, right?”

  “I guess.” She’s right. That is a lot of ice cream rewards, but I can do it. I finish out my senior year here and then go to Wisconsin for school. I can get a summer job and stay with the Gleasons.

  “But poor Neil. Forcing that dude to wait that long to be reunited with his one true love will be torture.”

  “Marian!” I say before burying my head into a pillow.

  Although this is the first time in a week that I don’t completely dread the future.

  Chapter

  THIRTY

  Florida is weird.

  Not only am I sweltering in December, but this is an outdoor mall, too. And not any outdoor mall, but one over an hour away from Paula’s house, just in case anybody might recognize her. Because it’s her face that has been plastered on the news, not mine.

  So far.

  This is my new life now. Taking precautions simply to go outside.

  Not sure what’s stranger: being overly cautious of every person we cross paths with or shopping outside in December.

  Every mall I’ve ever been to has been enclosed. The thought of walking around outside in the winter to shop doesn’t make sense. It would probably be the worst business decision to have one of these malls in northern Wisconsin. There are times in the winter when it’s so cold, you can’t be outside for more than five minutes without the risk of frostbite.

  But I love those days. We don’t have school, so we hang out at home, watch TV, and eat junk food. It’s a little vacation from real life.

  As I enter the cell phone store with Paula and a continually scowling Sarah in tow, I feel like this is a vacation from my life. None of this feels permanent.

  Or I at least won’t let my mind realize that this is my life now. It’s Ally McMullen’s. Whoever she is.

  When I woke up this morning in a new bed and foreign room, I had a moment of confusion, followed by panic. When I finally remembered where I was and why I was there, I felt even worse.

  At breakfast Paula tried to act like everything was normal. Just a regular morning as we sat down for breakfast at a diner on the way to the mall. There were eggs and bacon served with a side of stilted conversation.

  Sarah has refused to utter a single word to me or even look in my direction. I thought she might be happy that Paula kept her out of school on a Friday. But, nope.

  I wish I had school to distract me. We’re looking at my new school on Monday, and I’ll begin classes there on Tuesday. It’s silly for me to start so close to Christmas break, but I need something to do with my time. Staring numbly at the wall is getting tiring.

  “Hello!” Paula says brightly to one of the store associates. She gestures at the bags we’re carrying. “It’s been a day.”

  Yes, it has.

  I’ve never been that kind of girl who loved going into stores and trying on a bunch of outfits and not solely because we didn’t have the money. When there were sales, I’d go and stock up on the basics: jeans, long-sleeved shirts, sweaters for winter, and a good pair of sneakers and boots. I didn’t need much. That doesn’t change simply because I’m in a new state.

  Paula, however, disagreed with my logic. It shouldn’t surprise me since for a trip to the mall she’s dressed in black skinny capris, a silk tunic and light cardigan, layers of four different necklaces, and black wedge sandals. Her long hair is curled, and she has on more makeup than I wore to Homecoming. I, however, am in basic jean shorts and a nondescript green T-shirt with Marian’s plastic flip-flops.

  Paula wanted me to get a whole new wardrobe since I only have one other pair of shorts and a half-dozen short-sleeved shirts. I felt uncomfortable having her spend money on me, but it seemed to make her happy. So I, once again, was forced to play the role of agreeable daughter and tried on what she pulled for me and ignored Sarah’s glare when I’d come out of the changing room in a new outfit that was a bit more girly (lace tank tops and short skirts) than I would normally pick out for myself.

  “Oh, so she gets the new iPhone,” Sarah complains when Paula picks up a phone for me. I shudder when I see the price.

  “I really don’t need anything fancy,” I say for what feels like the four-hundredth time today.

  Maybe Paula’s making up for lost time, but with every swipe of the credit card my guilt deepens.

  “Well, we might as well get you the newest one,” Paula reasons.

  “Can I go to Starbucks?” Sarah asks.

  “I think we should stay together,” Paula replies.

  “She’s here, okay?” Sarah points at me like she’s accusing me of something. “Everything is fine, just perfect. You have what you wanted. What you always wanted.”

  “Sarah, sweetheart.” Paula reaches out to her, but Sarah backs away.

  “I can be on my own for a few minutes. I’m eleven. My friends are allowed to go to places by themselves.”

  “Come here,” Paula says sternly as she takes Sarah by the arm. She leads her to a corner for some privacy. I try to ignore their not-so-quiet argument.

  “Here we are,” a guy with brown skin and long locs says to me as he brings out my new phone. “Do you want to keep your number and plan, or do you need a new one?”

  “Ah.” I have no idea what I need. “I think I need a new plan?”

  “Is that your mom?” He gestures over at Paula, who attempts to give Sarah a kiss on the forehead, but Sarah storms out of the store, stomping with every footfall.

  “Ah …” I mean, yeah, Paula is technically my mom. The guy looks confused, for which I don’t blame him. “Is that your mom?” is a pretty simple question. For most people.

  “Um, Paul—” I stop myself. “Mom?” I call out to Paula. She freezes, and there’s a weird look on her face. I guess it’s a combination of shock and joy. I don’t really know how to describe it.

  Paula walks toward us. Her hands are on her heart while her eyes are filling with tears. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Mom. Well, in at least fifteen years.”

  The sales guy looks between us like he’s trying to figure out an
equation. He’s also probably wishing he were waiting on anyone else.

  “Um, yeah, so.” I gesture at the phone and focus my attention on it. It’s too difficult to see the look Paula is giving me. How much she wants me to fit into her world. And how I simply can’t. “Ah, I think I need a new plan.”

  “What? Oh, yes. Yes, the phone.” Paula shifts back to her hyper shopping mode. “We want all the accessories, and Aman—Allison needs to join our family plan.”

  The guy looks between us again, but he gets to business once Paula pulls out her platinum card.

  I zone out while they go over my contract and new number. I come back as Paula asks him about his orange-and-blue lanyard with alligators on it. “Oh, I see you went to Florida.”

  “Go, Gators!” he replies.

  “My daughter”—and she says those words with so much pride—“is a senior, and we need to start looking at schools.”

  “Can’t go wrong with Florida.”

  I nod along since I’m certainly not going to bring up in front of a stranger that I have no intention of going to college in Florida.

  “And the weather here is way better than Wisconsin,” Paula says as she tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.

  “Wisconsin?” the guys says with a laugh. “It is cold there. Wait a second, do not tell me you’re a Badgers fan.”

  “Sure am. And a Packers fan,” I reply.

  The guy shakes his head as he takes my phone out of Paula’s hands. “Well, I wish you would’ve told me that up front. We don’t sell phones to Packers fans.”

  He and Paula have a good laugh at my expense.

  “I have a question,” I state with a bit of a smile, a bat of the old eyelashes. Luring this dude in.

  “What can I do for you?” He folds his arms. “Besides educate you on real football?”

  “Yes. When was the last time the Buccaneers were even in a Super Bowl, let alone won one?”

  “Ow!” The guy puts his hand to his mouth. “Okay, okay. Fair enough. Well, I guess I can set this phone up for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I’m smiling a genuine smile until I turn around and see Paula studying me.

  For the brief moment I was bantering and trash-talking with the sales guy, I had felt normal.

  One look at Paula and I’m reminded of why I’m here.

  “We really need to start talking about schools,” Paula says. “We have some time but best to start looking now. I’ll come up with a list, but University of Florida should be at the top—Florida State, too.”

  And then things get even worse.

  “I’ve already applied to the University of Wisconsin at Green Bay—my top choice,” I state. Although I don’t add it’s all in limbo until everything gets straightened out with my social security number. Not to mention how I’m going to pay for it.

  Paula ignores my comment. “I’ll make up a map and we can road-trip! Florida State is where I went to college. You’d love it there.”

  She conveniently leaves out that’s where Dad also went.

  She continues, “It would be good for me to know what you want to major in so we can really focus on the places with the best programs.”

  The guy raises his eyebrow knowing this is a really weird conversation for a mother and daughter to have. I wonder if he’ll figure it out. Amanda Linsley is coming back to Tampa. I mentioned I’m from Wisconsin. And the biggest red flag, Paula and I do not act like a mother and daughter.

  “A road trip sounds fun,” I say only to change the topic so we don’t give the sales guy any other reason to alert the press.

  I’m given a demo of all the bells and whistles of my new phone. Even though I’ve never owned a smartphone, all my friends have them, so I know the basics. I plan to FaceTime with Marian as soon as I get back to the house. It would also be nice to see Neil’s face.

  “Want a coffee or treat?” Paula asks as we walk out of the store. “We’re going to meet Sarah at Starbucks.”

  “Sure.” It’s crazy that they can get Starbucks whenever. I saw like four of them on the drive over.

  Sarah is sitting outside, sunglasses on, as she’s drinking one of those delicious frozen drinks.

  “Want anything else?” Paula asks her.

  “I’m going to head over to Forever 21,” she states coldly as she gets up and starts walking, not bothering to wait for a response.

  “We’ll meet you there. Stay in the store,” Paula calls out after her.

  I save a table as Paula gets our drinks. I look around at all the people milling about. I’m the only one wearing shorts. I guess temperatures in the upper seventies aren’t hot for people who live here. I, on the other hand, have to wipe sweat off my forehead. And if I’m being honest, I keep having to lift my arms to give my armpits some air.

  Paula comes out with our two iced drinks and sits down.

  “Thanks for the coffee. And phone. And clothes,” I say, rattling off all she’s bought me in the past two hours. “It’s really nice of you.”

  Paula pushes up her ginormous sunglasses. Now I can see her eyes, my eyes. “I’m thrilled to be able to do it. I’m so happy you’re here.” Paula gives me a warm smile as she reaches across to hold my hand.

  It’s the first time we’ve been alone, just the two of us, since … well, for as long as I can honestly remember.

  Paula looks around before leaning in. “How are you finding everything? Truly?”

  Does she really mean “truly”? Does she want to know the truth? That I feel like I’m living my life in a fog. Everything is hazy. It feels surreal. That I wish I were back home. That she’s really nice and all, but this isn’t my life.

  Instead, I go for a version of the truth. “It’s different.”

  “I know.” She leans back in her chair. “It’s different for me, too.”

  Of course it is. How can it not be for her? She now has two daughters.

  Paula continues, “It’s going to be an adjustment for us all, but a wonderful adjustment. Just give us some time to get into a flow. You’ll soon understand the beauty of living in Florida. You were born here, after all.”

  I look around at the palm trees, sun, and fountain that isn’t frozen over in December. It’s all so foreign. Yeah, I’m a native Floridian, but I’ve always had the kind of skin that burned in the sun. I could never get a tan like Dad. So I must get that from Paula. She’s sitting under an umbrella and wearing long sleeves.

  You are a part of her, I remind myself.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  She smiles at me. “Of course.”

  “What happened?”

  “With what, dear?” She looks back at me, and I can tell she has no idea what I’m really asking.

  “Between you and Dad. What happened?”

  The smile she’s had plastered on her face all day quickly dissolves. She begins shaking her head as if there’s a memory she doesn’t want flooding back. “Oh, Mandy, that was such a horrible time. I don’t think I can talk about it. It’s just … Your father and I loved you very much, but things weren’t working out for us. We separated. Your father was supposed to drop you off one day, and he was late.” She stares off into the distance. “I didn’t think anything of it at first. I went about doing laundry and making dinner. I called Dan on his cell, but he didn’t pick up. By dinnertime I kept calling and calling, and he wouldn’t answer. I didn’t know what to do. I called the police. They weren’t concerned at first since you were with one of your parents. But I knew he took you. I knew.” Tears begin running down her face.

  I hate that I had to bring this memory back, but I need to hear it from her. This is part of my history. The history that had been taken from me, and I need to know about it all, even the most devastating parts.

  “Were things that bad between you?” I press.

  “What did your father say?” Paula asks, her voice hard. “Didn’t you talk to him?”

  The options of how much to share weigh in my head. I d
on’t think I need to remind her of how I had thought she was dead until a week ago and that I apparently preferred my dad when I was younger. “I only got to see him once while he was in custody. He said you guys were separated. Did you end up getting a divorce?”

  She laughs bitterly. “You bet I got a divorce from that son of a bitch.” I flinch when she curses Dad, but Paula doesn’t notice. “Since he was missing, I had to get something called a divorce by publication, which meant I had to put an ad in the paper. Because he hadn’t humiliated me enough. I want to make something clear to you: I had every intention of splitting custody with your father before he took you. Unlike him, I’m not a selfish asshole.”

  I suck in air. Of course Paula was going to hate Dad for what he did. But still … My dad may be many things, but I lived with him my entire life until a week ago. He is not selfish. “Dad did everything for me,” I say.

  “Oh, please.”

  “No, he—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Mandy.”

  “It’s Ally,” I remind her. “And I really need you to hear this. Please.”

  She lets out an annoyed breath but doesn’t argue with me.

  “I’m mad at him, too,” I admit. The joyful look on Paula’s face was the reason I didn’t want to confess my true feelings about what happened. I didn’t want her to use it against Dad. But she does deserve the truth. “I don’t know what to think or feel about my life since he lied to me for so long.”

  “See? Selfish bastard,” Paula hisses.

  “No, please. No.” Yes, he did something awful. Yes, I am horrified that my life has been one big sham. But …

  And there it is again, the “but” of it all. Paula needs to understand why I have such a hard time being on Team Dad’s a Selfish Asshole. “Listen, I am angry at what he did. To me, to you, to your family. To us all. But I also love him. You need to know that he was a really great parent. He worked overtime so we always had enough money. He made sure I did my homework. He read to me as a kid. He listened to me. He was my best friend. He gave me a good life.” Now I’m the one with tears cascading down my cheeks. “I was never in any danger. I always felt safe around him. I was safe. And I’m sorry for what he did to both of us. What he did was wrong. SO wrong. But at the end of the day he is not this horrible villain you’ve built up in your mind. He’s not.”