(51) Ghost

Carolynn cried. A lot.

She also slept. A lot.

She didn't cook dinner. She didn't clean. She didn't do laundry. She didn't do anything.

Will tried to rope in the havoc but he was failing at doing all of Carolynn's day to day items of her routine and also keep his wife together in one piece.

Jonah sneaked into Makennah's room at night and slept on the floor. She heard him hiccup-crying for a few minutes before he passed out. She pretended not to hear him. She figured he just didn't want to be alone.

Makennah hadn't seen Nick of Josh in over twenty-four hours. She knew they were hiding away in the house somewhere. One time, Matt found Makennah in the kitchen late at night. She was baking some Nestle Tollhouse pre-made cookies and he came down to eat some of the cookie dough batter. She apologized for his loss. He shrugged it off and made a plate of cookies to share with his brothers. That was the single most meaningful interaction she had with any Sinclair for the whole day.

Because the house felt lonely, Makennah picked up a shift at work. She hadn't seen the inside of those four walls of the restaurant since the incident in the back parking lot. Jill called and texted her more than once to check in and make sure she was okay. She kept under lock and key the secret about what happened. Since Makennah had basically completely healed, there wasn't even any evidence of what happened.

Makennah didn't dwell on the subject for too long, but she did wonder whatever happened to Lucas that night after they left. Did he get up and leave? Did anyone call the police? Did anyone find him? Did he tell anyone what happened?

All unanswered questions. Curiosities she would never know.

Fortunately, the restaurant was alive with customers. Almost every single table was full and it remained that way for the entire evening. She picked up the closing shift so she would be there all night.

When things started to slow down, Makennah snacked on some cookies that she packed for herself and waited for another table. They were just about to close when a hostess hunted her down.

"Hey, Mack. There's a woman who requested you. Table eleven," she said.

"She requested me?" Makennah asked.

"Yeah, I don't think I've ever seen her before though. Repeat customer?"

Makennah shrugged and brushed her hands off on her apron. "I don't think so. I'll check it out. Thanks." This wasn't exactly her cup of tea considering they were about to close in half an hour, but whatever. All part of the restaurant business.

Collected a set of silverware, Makennah cautiously circled the restaurant to table eleven. From afar, she didn't recognize the older woman. Even as she got closer, Makennah swore she had never seen her before. However, there was something naggingly familiar about her. She couldn't place her finger on it.

She pasted on a smile and sidled up next to the small two person booth. "Hi, welcome in. My name's Makennah. I'll be your server. Can I start you off with something to drink?"

The older woman folded her hands graciously in her lap and tilted her hand back to look at Makennah. The awkward silence lingered with thick tension that she could have cut with a knife. Maybe the woman didn't hear her?

"Makennah," she finally said, as if saying her name for the first time and trying it on for size. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Elizabeth Rothair. I'm Carolynn's mother."

With this information, the puzzle pieces finally clicked together. The resemblance was remarkable in a most stunning, classical beauty kind of way. Although the old woman sported deep wrinkles and laugh lines, her beauty was unmistakable, and the match to Carolynn, her daughter, was undeniable.

"Um...hello. It's nice to meet you as well," she exchanged her pleasantries cautiously. Carolynn's mother at her place of employment? When her husband just died? That didn't add up.

Elizabeth Rothair motioned to the seat across from her with delicate soft hands, nails painted with French tips. "If you have a moment to spare, please sit. I'd love to talk with you for a moment."

Her formality suggested Makennah didn't have much room to argue so she eased into the seat on the other side of the booth. Without saying anything, she intertwined her fingers together in her lap. Clearly this meeting had a purpose and she would wait for Elizabeth to tell it to her.

"You must be wondering why I'm here," she said, and Makennah nodded in agreement. "I've known about you from the very beginning. My daughter and I are very close. We've simply never met because she never wanted to overwhelm you. We have a large family, and at times, they can be overbearing."

Makennah just nodded along and listened.

"Although Carolynn tells me most things, I would love to hear more about you from yourself."

It wasn't a question or a suggestion, more like a statement. A requirement to continue the conversation. Makennah sighed and racked her brain for something to say. She couldn't think of anything that this poised older woman would want to know about her.

At her silence, Elizabeth suggested a starting point. "Perhaps your name for starters?"

"Makennah Claire Thomas," she stayed automatically.

"And your mother?"

"Candy Claire Thomas. Yes, that's her real name."

"Father?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

"I don't have one," she said simply.

"You deny his existence or you don't know him?" She asked, quite intrusively for individuals who just met.

"I don't have one," Makennah repeated. She wasn't going to dive into that subject with Carolynn's mother.

"Where are you from?" She asked.

Makennah thought for sure that Elizabeth might already know some of these things about her. "The wrong side of the tracks," she answered allusively.

Elizabeth nodded her head. "How do you like Braxton?"

"I enjoy it here. I like the school system. I play soccer which I enjoy."

"Tell me more about yourself," Elizabeth said, opening the conversation for Makennah to steer their talk how she pleased.

Glancing around, she saw that no one was paying attention to them or even cared that she was sitting with this older woman. That was good because it's not like the people of Braxton really knew anything about Makennah or her past. "There isn't much to tell."

"I know that's not true," she responded with a little laugh.

"There aren't very many pleasant things to talk about when it comes to who I am and where I came from," she said. Was this really why she came down to the restaurant? To learn more about Makennah? "Not to be rude, ma'am, but is there a reason you came to see me?"

Elizabeth ignored that question. "I hear you do very well in school. Acing all of your classes. Excellent at soccer, a real athlete, and yet extremely humble about it. I've also heard that the school newspaper is writing an article about you because of your amazing soccer statistics. Not to mention, you were nominated to homecoming court. On top of that, you hold down this job with what little spare time you have. Those are quite some accomplishments. You should be proud of yourself."

Makennah held eye contact, gazing into her eyes, hoping to see something that alluded to the purpose of this interaction. "Thank you, ma'am."

"And you're quite beautiful, Makennah. Carolynn mentioned that of course. But it's nice to see in person. You have beautiful eyes and an engaging smile," Elizabeth said as if this were pertinent information.

"Thank you, ma'am," Makennah said again for la k of better words.

"Plus those manners...your mother taught you well."

Makennah clenched her hands together painfully. "My mother didn't teach my anything," she bit out and sealed her lips together tightly.

Pressing her lipstick lips together, Elizabeth nodded once. Twice. Three times. "I've heard some troubling things. The adjustment to Braxton maybe hasn't been so easy for you. Don't worry. Your privacy is safe. Carolynn only says when something bad happens but she doesn't list specifics."

"Life has its ups and downs," Makennah said, painfully obtuse.

Elizabeth let out a little laugh that shook her hair. The sound came from somewhere deep in her chest, where happy laughs come from. Makennah wondered how a woman who just lost her husband found happiness and laughed. "You are exceptional at evading facts. Impressive."

She was horribly aware of all of the differences between the two of them. Elizabeth was prestigious, wealthy, classically pretty, and wise. Plus she used words like exceptional, engaging, and evading. "Thank you," she said again, unable to mention much else.

"I like you, Makennah. You're quiet. But I like you. Of course that could be dependent upon the fact you don't really know me. However, I have a favor to ask."

"Of me?" Makennah pointed to herself, eyebrows raised quizzically.

She nodded. "Yes. I think that you understand life's hardships and that not everything is black and white." She did. "My favor has to do with protecting Carolynn."

Makennah just blinked.

"Her father's funeral is in three days. He was a wonderful man, my husband. I already miss him immensely. The grandkids adored him. He was a shining sun, spreading warmth wherever he went. He will be sorely missed by everyone - family, community, friends, and coworkers." For the first time, Elizabeth's decorum shattered as tears collected in her eyes. She glanced away, out the window to gather herself. "I know that Carolynn is a mess. She was always a daddy's girl. But..." Elizabeth cleared her throat and fog of tears disappeared. "There are things she doesn't know about her father. At the funeral, calling hours, and wake, I'm afraid that people will dishonor my husband's name and his legacy. Near the end...Henry just wasn't himself. He changed. He did things he should have. Some people hate him for it. I've protected Carolynn and the Sinclair family from the truth. They know nothing of his misdemeanors. I intend to keep it that way," she said resolutely.

"So what's the favor?" Makennah asked shortly. She didn't need to know this information. She didn't need to keep this secret - whatever it was - from the Sinclair's.

"I need your help. To protect Carolynn and the boys from overhearing these allegations. I need you to watch out for her and guide them away from any mishaps that could happen at the funeral. They can't know. It will crush them. All of them. I love them too much. They just don't need to know. This unexpected loss...his death...it's already too much. They shouldn't have to handle this too."

Makennah mulled over her proposition. "What did he do?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips and leaned back in the booth, relaxing her shoulders. Her hands twiddled nervously in her lap. "Nothing that needs to be brought to light more than it already has."

Hmm she was starting to sound like Makennah now.

"You don't know me," Makennah said. A stranger she was. Nobody that Elizabeth should divulge this information to. "You shouldn't trust me."

Elizabeth lifted her chin and buttoned her winter jacket. The gloves on the seat beside her she donned and grabbed her purse. She slung it over her shoulder and slipped to the edge of the booth.

The conversation seemed to be over without clear answers for Makennah. Although, maybe Elizabeth echoed that sentiment towards Makennah.

When Elizabeth stood, Makennah remained seated. "It was wonderful to meet you, Makennah. I'll be seeing you soon."

She hadn't agreed to the favor. Then again, Elizabeth didn't seem like the type of individual to argue with or question. So she left her with this: "I'm sorry for your loss. Drive safe."

"Thank you, dear. Goodnight."

For a full minute, Makennah chewed on her bottom lip and considered the favor that Elizabeth asked of her. She couldn't help thinking she was just the foster kid. Just the stray off the street. Just something the cat dragged in that the Sinclair's decided to keep for a little while.

After the incident over the weekend, the Sinclair's showed up before her shift ended to pick her up from work so that she would always be with someone and have someone keeping her safe. Matt waited in the back, leaning against his Jeep as he texted on his phone. When he saw Makennah, he opened the passenger door for her and drove them home quickly but safely.

He didn't say anything and neither did Makennah. She wondered what Matt would think. What any of them would think.

Once again, she was harboring secrets from the Sinclair's. And it was a family member that did it to her. She thought tight knit families didn't hold secrets or keep things from each other. But Elizabeth forced her into this position, laid the weight on her shoulders of her own problems that had nothing to do with Makennah.

Did she present herself as a trustworthy individual? Did she seem like a kid who could handle it? Did Elizabeth trust her because Makennah was an outsider and she knew she didn't want to upset the Sinclair's?

As Matt parked in the driveway and got out of the car, Makennah almost stumbled over her feet in the snow thinking about how ridiculous it was that an old woman came to see her at work and asked her to do something she really didn't want to do for the Sinclair's. If anything, they deserved the truth. Whatever it was that her father did, Carolynn had a right to know, to be informed.

Makennah padded into the kitchen on socked feet to find a snack before retiring to her room for the evening. Unsurprisingly, the entire house lay silent, sleeping, resting, and grieving. An undetermined weight clung in the air, dragging them all down. The sadness was almost tangible.

There wasn't much to eat other than fruit. So Makennah dragged out a cutting board, a knife, and an assortment of fruit from the fridge.

As she sliced the fruit up, Makennah noticed a stack of papers on the kitchen island beside her. It was a thick stack with big black bold letters...looked kind of like legal paperwork.

Maybe it was Will's stuff although he didn't usually leave his work papers sitting around. Then again, the entire house seemed to be flipped upside down. Maybe it wasn't that surprising.

Glancing sideways again, she saw the words Probate Court of something-something county. Hmm, not typically up Will's alley.

Her curiosity got to the better of her. She dried off her hands and picked up the papers. Her eyes scanned the black words on starch white paper.

The first few pages were labeled Petition for Appointment of Guardian of Minor.

And on this paper were their names: William Sinclair, Carolynn Rothair-Sinclair, and Makennah Claire Thomas.

Her mind buzzed. A ringing in her ears grew louder.

The second form was a Child Custody Affidavit.

Will. Carolynn. Makennah. Custody. Guardian of Minor. Petition.

Were Sinclair's trying to become her permanent legal guardians?

Did they already do it? Did they do something without her permission?

She kept shuffling through the papers and found two more forms: Acceptance of Guardianship and Affidavit for Petitioner for Appointment of Guardian of Minor Alleging Intolerable Living Situation.

This is exactly what she thought it was.

Permanent legal guardianship.

The papers slipped out of her grasp. She forgot about the fruit. She walked up the stairs and tucked away in her room. She couldn't feel anything or sense anything. She felt numb all over her entire body.

Desensitized. Lost.

She felt lost. Lost in a world of people who didn't know what to do with her. The lost girl in the foster system, wandering like a ghost. Haunting towns and families. A burden.

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Xoxo

W. Carolina