Virginia: Black Widows
I sat in the back of a dirty SUV, food wrappers everywhere. This wasn't a car service. The driver was quiet up front. I had no idea who he was, except that my mother and aunt had hired him. I knew they had because he'd been on the phone with them when he got out of his car, and their screaming to get into the car motivated me to obey.
All of my future plans, my scheming with Brent, was over now, I knew that. I'd been caught with my pants down. The man was driving me out to Long Island, where my family was staying for Christmas. I had my backpack with me, just a simple change of clothes I never had the chance to use.
I played on my phone a little. I'd missed a few calls and messages.
One text from Quinn: "They know. Destroy all evidence."
Another from my aunt: "Ginny, come home immediately. Do not see Beau again."
My mother had written a few: "Stop what you're doing and come home now.
"I know everything. I am so ashamed of you.
"How could you humiliate me like this?"
I even had one from Brent: "Are you okay? I saw you get into an SUV."
I replied: "I'm okay. My mother knows about us. Please don't call until I call first. Don't assume it's me texting. It's going to be bad. Love you :-*"
He replied instantly. "I'm sorry. I love you too :-*"
It was two hours later when the car pulled into a long driveway that led up to our family home. My spirit was destroyed. I knew the nuclear bomb had gone off, and now I was stepping out of my shelter into the wasteland, but even this wasn't the full scale of it. Surely, my mother and aunt would contain it before my father found out. I wondered how many other people knew.
The driver held the door for me. He escorted me right up to the door. I felt like a prisoner. Then I was inside our family home, Nana's home. She didn't live here, exactly, but it had been in the family for generations, a ridiculous mansion we only came to on holidays and summers, while we all lived and worked in New York City.
This place was a tomb, and I hated it, a symbol of status and opulence that I didn't care for, even less now that I felt I was being dragged toward poverty, where Brent thrived.
Harrison the butler escorted me through the house. He waited outside two closed doors. I could hear my mother and aunt on the other side. This was it.
"Through here, Miss Virginia," he said.
"Thanks, Harry. How's Florence?"
"She's very well. Thank you for asking."
"Good. Would you be kind enough to put my backpack in my room?"
"Of course, miss."
Harrison knocked on the door and waited until my aunt called, "Come in!"
Harrison opened the door. I passed through, and he closed it behind me. Quinn sat at a round table in the study while my mom and Aunt Olivia stood over her. Tall book shelves loomed around us, the room cold from disuse. My mother gestured to the chair next to Quinn. Quinn's head was down in submission. I obediently sat beside her. I'd try to protect her, but I didn't know what she'd said. Then again, I hadn't forgotten what she'd done either.
"Your father is out on the driving range," my mother said.
"This conversation does not leave this room. Is that clear?" Olivia said.
"Yes."
"Phone on the table," Olivia said.
I took it out of my purse and placed it there. She snatched it away.
"Password?" Olivia said.
I met her eyes, hoping she didn't decode the numbers into letters. "2328."
"Credit cards, now," Olivia ordered.
I took my wallet from my purse and surrendered them.
"I am so disgusted with you," my mother said.
"Excuse me?"
"Disgusted. Running around, fucking that boy, cheating on your fiance."
"How did you find out?"
"How direct! That's your question?"
I put my elbows on the table and my forehead in my palms. "It's all true. Why deny it? So how did you find out?"
"Take your elbows off the table!" my mother barked.
I put my hands in my lap.
"You do know your mother pays your cell phone bill, don't you?" Olivia said. "You realize we can look at your call log anytime we want."
"I know that now," I said, because Brent had told me. "I meant, what tipped you off? How'd you know to look at them?"
"I didn't suspect anything until I saw those coffee cups," Olivia said. "Then I knew he must have contacted you. After you vanished all night, I had my paralegals make a few calls to a few hotels, and I found his name easily enough. And you were dumb enough to go to the same hotel yesterday. I guess you figured out it was better to use a pseudonym though, kept my private investigator waiting outside all night. I have some adorable pictures of you on your knees at Bethesda Fountain if you'd like to see."
"No, thanks," I said, trying to hide my humiliation. I wanted to cry.
"What the hell are you even wearing?" my mother said, staring me down.
"My blue dress."
"Why?"
"Why do you think?" I countered.
"How long?" my mother asked. "How long was it carrying on?"
"None of your business," I said bitterly.
My mother reeled. "Excuse me?"
"Did Quinn know?" Olivia asked.
I swallowed, glancing at Quinn, who still had her head down. I could see her strained eyes wide open.
"Ask her. She's not going to lie to you," I said.
"I'm asking you!" Olivia snapped.
I glared at her. "No. She didn't know anything. I think she suspected, but I was lying to her too."
Quinn closed her eyes.
"She's already told us everything, Virginia," Olivia said. "She told us how you and Beau started talking on the phone, how you met, everything."
I looked at Quinn again. She was biting her lip. I looked back at Olivia. "Do you know about the postcard?"
"The postcard?" Olivia asked. "Yes, we know."
