The Sins That Bind Us Read online

  “I should get home,” Jude says, “I need to wrap up a few bars on this new song so that I can focus on little man this week.”

  “Why are you over here anyway?” Amie feigns innocence.

  “I keep finding things to fix.” He pokes his head into the living room.

  Max is watching TV, and Jude takes the opportunity to give me a swift kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning, Sunshine.”

  I’m still smiling when I close the front door behind him.

  “I’m beginning to suspect that he breaks things so he can come over to fix them,” Amie says.

  The smile falls from my face. With Jude gone, I need to address the elephant in the room. “Are we cool? I know he’s here a lot.”

  “Like I mind. Do you think I could get him to paint my bedroom? He is so much cheaper than hiring a handyman. You just have to pay him in hot, hot sex.”

  I ignore the last statement. “You’ll let me know if it gets overwhelming, though?”

  “Yes, I promise,” she says dramatically, “But, you know, you can stay over there some nights. I am completely capable of caring for your child. I’ve done it before.”

  I know she is, but it’s about more than that.

  “I just don’t want Max to think I’ve abandoned him for Jude,” I tell her.

  “He will never think that,” she says.

  “Things are just changing so rapidly. I don’t want him to get swept up in that. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

  “You can’t put him in a bubble, honey.”

  “I wish I could,” I admit.

  “I know.”

  “Have I lost my mind letting Jude take him for the week?” I ask.

  “No, and by doing so you’re ensuring that I don’t lose my mind. You weren’t there to calm me down, and I fired one of the line cooks.”

  “What?” The revelation temporarily distracts me from my Jude quandary.

  She holds out her hands. “I’m telling you, I can’t be trusted when you’re not around for long periods.”

  Trust. That’s exactly what I’m worried about.

  “I mean,” I continue, forgetting about her problems with the cooks. “I think I’m supposed to be worried about leaving Max with him. What if he runs away with him? What if he sells him as a child slave? What if the whole point—”

  “Stop!” Amie interjects. “You need to stop reading Facebook stories.”

  “I’m a mom. It’s my job to worry.”

  “You do a hell of a good job at it, but you also need to not drive yourself crazy. Basically we need to ensure sanity all around.” She grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. “Look, anyone can see that Jude loves that kid.”

  I blush furiously at the implication of her words— that Jude doesn’t just love that kid. It’s something that we’ve been dancing around for weeks. Amie doesn’t press the matter, though.

  “Is this about how you two met?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “It should be. I should be concerned. Why am I not concerned?”

  “You are a one-woman sideshow act.”

  “You brought it up,” I point out.

  “I was just asking,” she says with a groan.

  “Then no. Jude never misses a meeting. He never shows any sign of relapse. I’m more worried about my ability to stay on the straight and narrow than his.”

  “That is impressive.” Amie raises an eyebrow. “Because I have never once been concerned that you would relapse.”

  “Your belief in me is astounding.”

  “And well-founded,” she tacks on as she begins to unpack the food she’s brought home for dinner.

  I grab plates, grinning widely.

  “We only need three,” she says.

  Looking down, I realize I’ve taken one out for Jude as well.

  “You know, if you two want to, um, how do I put this? Shack up together? I am not going to be offended. I can always find an apartment,” she says casually.

  Amie has yet to see Jude’s house mostly because I insist on being here most of the time.

  “We could all pretty much move into Jude’s house if that’s what I wanted.”

  “I don’t think you’re catching my meaning. I feel like maybe it’s time for you two to be alone.”

  I hitch my thumb towards the living room and the little boy watching Spider-Man. “We’re never going to be alone.”

  “You know what I mean. When you’re ready don’t worry about telling me.”

  “I am not ready,” I say softly. “I haven’t lived with a man since my dad and I don’t even remember him.”

  “I just want you to have your family,” Amie says.

  “You are my family,” I’m offended on her behalf.

  “Yes, but at some point that might change, and it’s cool.”

  I fold a few paper towels into napkins as I consider this. “When I sold my nana’s house, I thought I’d never feel at home again, especially with my sister gone, but you opened your doors to me. This is my home.”

  “It always will be, honey,” Amie promises, “But don’t go getting obligation confused with sentiment. Men like Jude come along once in a lifetime.”

  Deep down I know that. “It’s too early to even talk about,” I say at last, “We’ve only known each other a couple of months.”

  “That doesn’t matter. When you know you know, or so I’m told.”

  I want to believe in the possibility of true love as fiercely as Amie does. I’m willing to work for it and I want to believe that it’s found me, but the only thing that’s ever been able to find me is trouble.

  A few days later and Jude has not murdered, kidnapped, or sold my son to the circus. Instead, he’s taken him to a local aquarium. Together the two have been building a Lego masterpiece in the living room. Today he brings him into The World’s End. Max visits with the regulars while Jude leans seductively over the hostess stand.

  “I was thinking about taking little man into Seattle. I think he’d really like the Pacific Science Center.”

  “No!” I snap, and immediately feel stupid. It’s not his fault that he doesn’t know every painful memory from my past and that city. “I mean, I would prefer if you didn’t go too far with him.”

  Jude doesn’t argue. He doesn’t point out that Seattle is less than two hours away or question my reasoning. Instead he says, “That’s cool, but it just means I’m going to have to buy more Legos.”

  I widen my eyes in mock horror. “Soon we’re going to have to live in the house of Legos.”

  “That’s my plan, Sunshine. Aren’t you excited?”

  “Hey, I have a question for you,” I hesitate, trying to find the courage to broach the subject. “Do you think, and you can say no, that you might want to go visit my nana with us this weekend? We try to see her once a month, but I skipped last month and I’m feeling terrible about it.”

  I leave out that I’ve been so caught up in Jude that I’d forgotten.

  “I’d love to. It can be a practice road trip. Maybe I can convince you that the world outside Port Townsend is not as terrifying a place as you think it is.”

  I swallow against the lump in my throat. Seattle doesn’t scare me, but the memories waiting around every corner in that city do.

  Jude doesn’t seem to notice my preoccupation. “We’ll get out of your hair.”

  Before I react he kisses me in front of the whole restaurant. Max sees and smiles widely. I shoo them both out, too flustered by the public display of affection to reprimand him.

  “He’s getting bold,” Amie calls from the kitchen, “Isn’t that against rule number two?”

  I can tell exactly what she thinks of my rules. “Yeah, it is,” I grumble.

  “Hey, cheer up, Sunshine,” she says, calling me by his pet name. “It just means you make him want to break the rules.”

  I disappear into the office to be alone with my thoughts. I know better than most that rules are there for a reason.

  “Oh, suga
r, we missed you!” Maggie cries out when we arrive at the home on Saturday. She pulls Max into a tight bear hug.

  “I know, I’m terrible. We got busy and I didn’t make it up here last month.” The guilt that has been building inside me for the last few weeks pours out of me.

  “Don’t go beating yourself up,” Maggie says. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

  The front door opens behinds me and Maggie’s eyes widen appreciatively when Jude steps in from parking the car. He pulls off his sunglasses and clips them to the neck of his blue t-shirt.

  “Maggie, this is Jude.” I’m still a bit rusty on introductions, but I leave out particulars. Whatever conclusion she draws about me bringing a man here is probably the right one.

  “I’m glad to meet you.” He holds out his hand.

  “It is so very nice to meet you.” Maggie bypasses his outstretched hand and hugs him. “I’ve been praying that Miss Faith would bring a man.”

  Max saves me from hearing how long she’s been praying for me by grabbing my hand, then he grabs Jude’s. He hauls us along, showing Jude off to everyone in the community room. More than a few of the old ladies fan themselves deliberately.

  “I hadn’t counted on being this embarrassed,” I say to Jude under my breath. “I can only imagine what they’re thinking.”

  At about the same time one of the older men winks. “I think they’re getting the right idea about us,” Jude responds, and I smack him playfully.

  Today Nana is facing the window when we come in.

  “Hi, Nana,” I call out to her, “I brought Max and a friend to visit.”

  She turns slowly, her eyes narrowing. “Who are you?”

  Maggie bustles into the room behind us, grim determination settling over her face. “Now, Marilyn. This is your granddaughter, Faith, and your great grandson, Max, and they brought a friend.”

  “I don’t know her,” Nana repeats.

  “It’s me, Nana.” I bend down and try to take her hand, but she pulls away.

  “Grace?” she asks.

  I suck in a steadying breath. “Faith,” I correct her.

  “Where’s Grace?” she asks, looking around the room for her.

  “I’m sorry, she’s not here.” I stand up, completely flustered. The room closes in on me and I fiddle with a button on my jacket. “Maybe we should go.”

  But Jude takes the seat across from Nana.

  “Who are you?” She eyes him suspiciously.

  “My name is Jude, ma’am.”

  “You won’t find any money for drugs here,” she tells him, “I hid it all away. I can’t trust my girls.”

  “You can trust her,” Jude says gently, “And you can trust me.”

  “Hmm.” Nana settles back into her chair and begins to rock. “That’s what she says every time. That’s what Faith says every time and then the TV goes missing.”

  “Maggie, will you take Max to visit down in the community room?”

  She nods and takes him by the shoulders. He’s too young to understand exactly what’s wrong with Nana and he probably finds our conversation confusing. At least I hope that’s all he gets out of it.

  “The TV is down in the community room. Nobody stole it,” I tell Nana,

  “Don’t sass me, little girl, you are always sassing me.”

  It should be an improvement that she recognizes who I am, but it isn’t.

  “Faith tells me that you used to live up in Seattle,” Jude tries to strike up a conversation, but Nana isn’t having it.

  “You won’t distract me. I’ve got my eye on the both of you.” After a few more minutes of accusations I walk out the door. Jude’s right behind me.

  “I am so, so sorry about that—”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. She’s sick, Sunshine. I’m just sorry because I know it hurts you to see her like that.”

  “She doesn’t paint a very pretty picture of me, does she?” I can’t let it go. Jude might be willing to look past it, but I can’t. I’ll never have her forgiveness or understanding. She’ll never truly know me as anything more than the addict I was.

  He grabs my hand. “We can talk about it in the car, but for now let’s head home.”

  Home? What is that? This should be as much my home as anywhere else. I belong nowhere. My grandmother should be in my home, but I have nothing left to root me in this earth but Max. A mother should offer a permanent shelter for her son than the leftovers of her mistakes.

  Maggie has distracted Max with lots of candy and I have to stop him before he accidentally gives it to a diabetic patient.

  “I’m sorry we drove all the way down here for nothing,” I say after we have Max in the car.

  “Christ, Faith. Stop apologizing,” he barks. Instantly his face softens, “I’m sorry about that.”

  By the time I climb into the passenger seat I’m barely holding back tears. My throat is tight with the effort of keeping them contained. We drive in silence for a while, leaving the small seaside town and heading back through the curving roads that lead to Port Townsend. Usually I find this part of the trip peaceful, but not today.

  “My dad used to hit me,” Jude says out of nowhere. “It doesn’t really matter now. I made peace with it a long time ago. I guess I’m only telling you this because I know how much it hurts when the people who are supposed to love you don’t. At least your Nana has an excuse.”

  “Jude,” I whisper his name, uncertain what to say.

  “I don’t want your pity, Sunshine. I want you to know that you can talk to me. I know you’re hurting.”

  I wish we weren’t in the car, so I could hold him, but right now all we have is words. Clasping his hand, I open a door I’ve kept closed to him.

  “She wasn’t always bad,” I say in a trembling voice. “She tried, but it was hard. My sister and I, we got into lots of trouble.”

  There’s a long pause. Jude glances over at me and I see a storm in his blue eyes. “You never talk about your sister.”

  “You never talk about your dad,” I point out.

  “That bad?” he asks.

  “People don’t always have to hit you to hurt you. I loved her so much. She was my best friend, and watching her destroy herself destroyed me.”

  “Where is she now?” His hand tightens on mine.

  “I don’t know. That’s the truth. At some point I made the decision not to let her hurt me, and to do that meant letting her go entirely. She wouldn’t know where to find me if she wanted to,” I admit, and it sounds harsh coming out of my mouth. “It’s a truth I’ve kept bottled up for far too long, but trust me, she doesn’t want to find me.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because she would have already. If she’d loved me like I love her, if she loved any of us like we love her, she’d find me.”

  “Does she know about Max?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I answer in a hollow voice. “She knows about him.”

  “Faith,” he starts, and then he pauses for a long moment. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

  “Yeah.” I look out the window and focus on the clouds moving swiftly across the sun. I wish that were true.

  Chapter 15

  Before

  When the door opened well after midnight one Wednesday night, Grace should have grabbed the baseball bat or called the cops. Instead she walked slowly to the front door. They stared at one another for a long moment, neither of them speaking. Three years, and her face hadn’t changed. Or maybe it had. Maybe it had changed subtly like hers had. There were differences but they were slight: a silvery scar near Faith’s hairline, a body that hadn’t quite filled out. She was wearing a flowing top but it couldn’t hide the way her bones jutted from her skin. Neither of them broke eye contact. Did Faith notice that Grace’s hair was shorter? Or that she’d stopped wearing purple eye shadow? Did she just see herself? Grace lunged for her and wrapped her arms tightly around Faith’s shoulders.

  “Where
have you been?” The question leaked out of her before she would have liked to ask it. Faith was fragile, and God knows what had happened to her in her absence. Grace had flirted with the wrong people long enough to imagine. There was something fawn-like about her sister now. Her knees were knobby and her legs unsteady. It felt like at any moment she might dart away out of sight. Grace wouldn’t allow that to happen. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “I will,” Faith promised, “but right now I need to sleep. Can I stay here?”

  As though Grace would let her leave. “Yes. You can have my bed.”

  “Can we share it? Like when we were little?”

  Grace smiled despite the lump swelling in her throat. A single tear slipped down Faith’s cheek.

  “I missed you.”

  That night Grace watched her sister as she slept, afraid to close her eyes. It was a beautiful nightmare, having her back. But as much as she had dreamed of this day, her mind wandered to thoughts of what Faith had experienced. Something had finally driven her back home.

  The next morning the two sat awkwardly across Nana’s kitchen table. Faith ate heaping spoonfuls of Cheerios while Grace watched.

  “I missed this house.” Faith dropped her spoon into the empty bowl. She leaned back as if to take it all in.

  “I’m selling it,” Grace told her softly. “Nana’s care is too expensive. I can pay for a couple of years in the home for her with the profits.”

  “And after that?” If she was upset over this revelation, she didn’t show it.

  Grace hadn’t seen her sister like this since she was a teenager. She had been the practical one—the level-headed one—and Grace had screwed that all up by dragging her to a party. It was the mistake that made her hate herself. It was the reason she never corrected Nana when she thought she was Faith, because Faith should have been the one there. Faith was supposed to be the one they could count on, and she would have been if she’d never been given a drink.

  “I’ll get a better job. I took some community college classes. I have my associates.” It was nothing to brag about in Grace’s opinion. She’d hoped to transfer to the University of Seattle but by then Nana needed full-time care. A job had been her only choice. As it turned out, three jobs were needed: part-time at a bookstore, waiting tables a few nights a week, and working at the Pacific Science Center on the weekends. It still barely paid the bills. Selling the house was the best choice and also the hardest.