Page 57 of Dirty Liars
She looks from him, back to me, and shakes her head slowly as if she still can’t believe what she’s looking at. “John, our little girl is dead. There’s nothing we can do about it now. Buther …what’s your name again, sweetie?”
“Teddy,” I answer in a haze. My own name feels foreign on my lips.
“Teddy … what a nice name.” She looks directly at her husband, and this time, her voice is more sure. “Teddy is very much alive. Why should we take this girl out of school here? Why waste the tuition we already paid?”
He blunders for words a moment. “Because … because she’s a liar and a thief!”
Mrs. White stands, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more determined woman in my life. “Spite won’t get us Sadie back,” she snaps.
Her husband isn’t the only one struck dumb. I still don’t fully understand what’s going on. She’s supposed to hate me, but she’s looking at me like, well, like I’m her own daughter. It makes the tears spill over again.
Mrs. White’s eyes soften, and she cups my face with her hand. Normally I’d shrink back from the touch, but I can’t, not when I still don’t understand how she can be so nice to me.
“I remember you,now, I think. From the funeral.” She glances at her husband. “Remember that awful woman? What was her name?”
It’s Mr. Baxter’s turn to interject. He clears his throat several times, and then waits for us to look his way.
“That brings us to the other problem here. I think the woman you’re referring to is Ms. Martin, Theodora’s foster mother.” He pulls out a file, and then pauses a second before sliding it across the table. “We made a few phone calls this morning, as soon as we figured out what was going on. Ms. Martin was very relieved to hear that Theodora is alright, but she also told us to look into the account under your daughter’s name.”
He opens the top of the file. I don’t have to look. I know what’s there. The other accounts, well over two grand withdrawn at this point … probably closer to three. I have to close my eyes to keep the shame of it from overwhelming me. It really took Ms. Martin no time at all to make this even worse for me. Typical.
“This girl, thisimposter…” Mr. White jabs a finger at me when I open my eyes. “Has stolen—”
“Enough!” Mrs. White’s composure dwindles for a moment. She grabs the file, takes one look at it, and tosses it across the room. “Sowhat?It’s only money. We’re talking about a girl’slifehere.”
Mrs. White sits down and stares back up at me. She takes either of my hands in hers, and that motherly look overcomes her face again. It’s almost too much to bear. I’ve never had anyone look at me like that before.
“Do you want to go back to your old life, Teddy?”
I scoff, then quickly apologize. “Sorry. I … what life?” I can’t help it, but the tears start up again. “All I wanted was to start over. I still shouldn’t have done it. I just, I just …”
“Enough.” This time, when she says it again, it’s soft and gentle.
She turns and looks at her husband, who has somehow deflated during all this. “Let her keep it. Sadie isn’t going to use it. It’s already paid.” Her husband starts to open his mouth again, surely to shout something more about how I’m a liar and a horrible person, aka, the truth, but she slams her palm down on the principal’s desk to quiet him.
“Can’t you let me have just thisonething, John?” she says, her voice a hard, almost dangerous whisper. “I killed our daughter. I won’t let you say otherwise. You know it’s true. You know she’d be alive now if it weren’t for … weren’t for …” she takes a moment to get ahold of herself. “I need this. Do it for me, if you won’t do it for her.”
Mr. White doesn’t say anything right away. Then, when he does speak, all he says is, “So long as she pays off the account. That’s my only stipulation.”
I feel lightheaded. My knees go weak beneath me, and I have to grab onto the arm of the chair for support.
“I don’t … I can’t …”
Dr. Baxter sighs and shakes his head. “I’m afraid Theodora is right. We really can’t just let her stay on. There’s a lot that’s gone on here. So many questions that need answers … let alone we’d need the permission of her guardian …”
“Like she’d dare refuse,” Mrs. White snaps. She turns sharply and reaches for her purse. “Dr. Baxter, I know how these things work.” She pulls her checkbook out and lays it on the desk before him. Mr. White’s eyes grow wide, but he knows better than to say anything now. As do I.
I press my lips together and barely dare to breathe.
“How much of a donation would you say is about right to clear this whole matter up?”
Mr. White finally finds his voice. “Are you sure?” This time, there’s nothing but softness there.
She nods. “I am.”
Dr. Baxter wipes his hand over his face and sighs as he sits down. “I suppose the board might overlook it if there were a donation involved.”
The rest of the details are a blur.
