Chapter 17 - SHE TELLS BLAKE TO LIEColette waited until Malcolm left for work.
Blake was home because of the school suspension.
She found him in his room building a model car.
“Can we talk?”
He shrugged.
She sat beside him.
“I know things have been confusing.”
Blake pressed two pieces together.
“Dad says you lied about Carla.”
Colette inhaled.
“Your father does not understand everything.”
“You found the bracelet.”
“Yes.”
“And didn’t tell her.”
“I made a mistake.”
“Did she steal anything?”
Colette hesitated.
“I had concerns.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
The directness startled her.
Children learned quickly when their trust was damaged.
“No,” she said.
Blake looked down.
“Then why did you say she was bad?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“She was becoming too involved.”
“She liked me.”
“Yes.”
“Was that bad?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Colette’s patience thinned.
“Blake, adult relationships are complicated.”
He went back to the model.
She changed direction.
“Your father is asking questions about Rosa.”
He stopped.
“She is saying things about me.”
“What things?”
“Things that aren’t true.”
Blake looked wary.
“What?”
“That I treated her badly.”
“You did.”
The words stunned Colette.
“What?”
“You laughed when I hit her.”
“I was shocked.”
“You laughed twice.”
Colette’s face hardened.
“You remember one moment.”
“I was there.”
“So was I.”
He stared at her.
She softened again.
“Sweetheart, Rosa had been disrespecting me for weeks.”
“How?”
“She talked back. She ignored instructions. She was trying to turn your father against me.”
Blake frowned.
“I never saw that.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
Colette reached for his hand.
He pulled it away.
Her eyes flashed.
“Blake.”
“What?”
“I need you to remember what happened the day Rosa left.”
“I remember.”
“Do you remember her raising her voice at you?”
“No.”
“She did.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Blake, you were upset.”
“I wasn’t.”
“She said things that made you angry.”
Blake stared.
“No.”
Colette leaned closer.
“She told you you were spoiled.”
“No.”
“She insulted me.”
“No.”
“You may not remember correctly.”
The model car sat forgotten.
Blake’s face had changed.
“What do you want me to say?”
Colette paused.
“Only the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That Rosa provoked you.”
Silence.
Blake looked at his mother as though seeing someone unfamiliar.
“She didn’t.”
Colette’s voice sharpened.
“You don’t know what adults were discussing.”
“She didn’t do anything to me.”
“Blake—”
“I hit her because I wanted to.”
“Lower your voice.”
“And because you laughed.”
“Enough!”
He flinched.
Colette immediately softened.
“I’m sorry.”
Blake stood.
“I’m going to Aunt Helen’s.”
“No.”
“Dad said I could call her.”
“I said no.”
He reached for his phone.
Colette grabbed it from the desk.
Blake froze.
“Give it back.”
“When you calm down.”
“You’re trying to make me lie.”
“I am your mother.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
The sentence sounded like Malcolm.
Colette heard it.
So did Blake.
Her face changed.
“You think your father is perfect now?”
“No.”
“He hit you.”
“He apologized.”
“I defended you.”
“You told me what I did was okay.”
Colette stopped.
Blake’s eyes filled.
“I wanted you to tell me it was wrong.”
That broke through her anger for one second.
“Blake…”
“You laughed.”
His voice cracked.
“I thought that meant I was right.”
Colette reached for him.
He stepped back.
The bedroom door opened.
Malcolm stood there.
Neither had heard him return.
He looked first at Blake.
Then at the phone in Colette’s hand.
“What happened?”
Blake answered immediately.
“Mom wants me to say Rosa made me hit her.”
Colette went pale.
“That is not what I said.”
Blake looked at his father.
“She said Rosa provoked me.”
Malcolm’s expression became dangerously calm.
“Did she?”
“No.”
“Did Rosa insult you?”
“No.”
“Did she insult your mother?”
“No.”
“Did Rosa touch you?”
“No.”
“What did she do?”
Blake looked down.
“She cleaned the table.”
Silence.
Malcolm turned toward Colette.
She started to speak.
He held up one hand.
“No.”
“You’re going to believe a ten-year-old over your wife?”
Malcolm stared at her.
The sentence was so revealing he almost could not believe she had said it.
First employees were too low-status to believe.
Now her own child was too young.
Anyone who contradicted Colette instantly became less credible.
“Yes,” Malcolm said.
Her eyes widened.
“On this? Yes.”
He took Blake’s phone from her and handed it back.
“Call your aunt.”
Blake left.
Colette watched him go.
Then whispered:
“You are destroying my relationship with my son.”
Malcolm looked at her.
“No.”
He thought of Denise.
Carla.
Rosa.
May you like
Blake.
“You just finally found someone you couldn’t fire.”
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