Chapter 10 - Bloodline
Mark took a step toward the porch, his hand reaching out to grasp the wooden railing. ""Mom, please. Let me come inside. Everything the media is saying—it's distorted. Clara’s family is using their money to destroy me.""
His mother, Margaret, didn't move an inch. She didn't open the screen door. She looked down at the envelope in her hands, her knuckles white with tension.
""They sent me the hospital records, Mark,"" she said, her voice dropping into a register of sorrow he had never heard from her before. ""Clara’s brother came here himself this evening. He didn't come with lawyers or police. He came with pictures of my grandson.""
Tears welled in Margaret’s eyes, spilling down the deep creases of her cheeks. ""The baby had to be resuscitated twice, Mark. Twice. His heart stopped because you couldn't be bothered to turn your car around. You left that girl bleeding on the floor like an animal.""
""I didn't know!"" Mark cried, his voice cracking against the empty suburban street. ""I thought it was false labor! She cried wolf every week, Mom! You know how she was!""
""She never cried wolf!"" Margaret’s voice suddenly sharpened into a furious reprimand that cut Mark to the bone. ""She called me three times that morning before she called 911! She asked me if she should call an ambulance, and I told her to wait for you because you were her husband! I told her you would protect her!""
Margaret slammed her hand against the screen door frame, shaking with rage. ""I told her to trust you! And while she was lying there waiting for you to help her down the stairs, you were walking out the front door with your luggage! The blood is on my hands too, Mark, because I believed you were a decent man!""
Mark fell back a step, stunned. He had never seen his mother raise her voice to him in thirty-six years of life. She had protected him from every failure, excused every mistake, and blamed every failed relationship on the women he discarded.
""Mom... please,"" he pleaded, the rain soaking through the shoulders of his shirt. ""I have nowhere to go. My accounts are frozen. The police are investigating the car accident. I just need a place to sleep for the night.""
Margaret held out the legal envelope through the half-open screen door. ""Arthur Vance paid off the remaining thirty thousand dollars on my mortgage this afternoon, Mark. He established a college fund for Julian in my name. The only condition was that I sign an affidavit agreeing never to permit you on this property again.""
Mark stared at the envelope, his mouth opening in horror. ""You sold me out? For thirty thousand dollars?""
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""I didn't sell you out,"" Margaret said, her voice breaking as she clicked the heavy deadbolt into place. ""I chose my grandson. Because if I let you inside this house, I’ll never be allowed to hold that baby for as long as I live. Goodbye, Mark.""
The porch light went out, leaving him in pitch-black darkness.
