The Forgotten Boy by Emily Shiner

Author:Emily Shiner [Shiner, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-08T16:00:00+00:00

17

REBECCA

“Mina, darling, are you okay?” Reaching out with my free hand, I lightly cup her cheek, lifting her head a little bit so she has to drag her gaze from the apron and look at me. Her eyes are wide, her breathing shallow, her cheeks pale. If she were to stand up too quickly, I think she might pass out.

“Mina.” Now my voice is sharper, more concerned.

I’m doing a great job hiding how much I’m enjoying this. True, I wish whatever realization she’s having could wait until after dinner so the spaghetti I made doesn’t get cold, but I’m honestly just thrilled that she’s finally getting it.

Some light bulb has clicked on in her brain, I can tell.

When she still doesn’t respond, I reach down and take the piece of clothing from her hand, turning it over in mine. “Oh, what a sweet little nightgown,” I say, doing my best to spread it out with just one hand. It’s wrinkled from being stuffed in this bag and a little bit stained on the front, but there are pretty pink ribbons running along the hem, neck and wrists.

“I remember you wearing this,” I tell her, finally looking back up at her with a smile.

She blinks and then stares down at the nightgown, swallowing hard. “You remember that?”

“Sure I do. Just like I remember your mom wearing this apron. I hope you don’t mind that I’m wearing it, but I always loved it on her. Putting it on always put her in the best mood. Don’t you remember?”

Mina looks up at me, her mouth opening slightly like she wants to say something, but then she closes it again and shakes her head.

“You don’t remember?” Bullshit. I know she does. I can tell from the flicker of fear behind her eyes that Mina’s suddenly remembering. And now I’m willing to let dinner get cold tonight to run with it.

“I remember the apron,” she says slowly, her fingers twisting in the soft white fabric of the nightgown. “But I don’t remember my mom being happy while she wore it. She would get really mad when she cooked and would throw it on the floor for me to pick up.”

Mina winces, like she’s afraid of what I will say to that.

“Really?” Leaning forward a bit, I try to get a better look at her. Is this it? Is the breakthrough I’ve wanted for so long finally happening? “You remember her getting angry and throwing it on the floor?”

Do I sound too excited? Mina looks up at me, her gaze sharp, like she’s trying to figure out exactly what I’m thinking or saying, but I manage to keep my face expressionless.

“I keep telling you. You and I knew a very different woman,” she tells me, finally moving to stand up. I stand with her, not wanting to let her go. I don’t want her to walk out of here, go to the kitchen, get a glass of wine.

This entire time I’ve been pushing her to drink,

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