Mending Fences. Sherryl Woods

She looked as if she wanted to say more but, instead, she merely opened the door for Marcie.

      Inside the nearly bare, sterile room, Marcie found her son seated at a table with his head resting on his arms. When he glanced up, she saw the fear in his eyes for a split second before he managed to hide it behind the bravado of a boy trying desperately to prove himself a man.

      “Mom, what are you doing here?”

      “I came with your father, of course. Are you okay?”

      “What do you think?” He blinked back a traitorous tear that threatened to escape. “You should go home. Dad’s got everything under control.”

      Marcie knew better, but she didn’t say that. Resisting the desire to rush around the table and hug Evan, a move she knew he’d despise, she sat across from him instead and reached for his hand.

      “Tell me what happened, Evan. Explain to me how the police could have come to this horrible conclusion.”

      He frowned at her. “What, are you working for the cops now? You want me to make some big confession so they can use it against me?”

      Marcie stared at him in shock. “Of course not. I just want to help. How can I do that if I don’t understand how this happened?”

      “It’s not your problem,” he said. “Dad will get an attorney over here and I’ll be out in a few hours. This will never stick.” His cocky expression faltered. “You believe me, right?”

      “You’re my son and I have faith in you,” she said, not entirely certain why she couldn’t put any more conviction in her statement than that. Surely this whole thing was a lie. She wanted to believe that her son was incapable of raping anyone. No, she did believe it! Evan simply couldn’t do such a thing.

      Unfortunately, Evan heard the note of doubt in her voice. “You’d believe the word of some lying little slut over mine?” he asked incredulously.

      Marcie immediately sat up a little straighter and looked him in the eye. “No son of mine will ever refer to a woman—any woman—in that way, do you understand me? And if you expect anyone to believe you about this, I suggest you drop that disrespectful attitude at once. It won’t serve you well.”

      Evan blinked at her harsh tone, probably because he hadn’t heard it in years. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “But, come on, Mom, what do you expect? She says I raped her.”

      “Did the two of you have sex? Can they prove that?”

      Evan’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Marcie knew this was no time to mince words. She had to be strong and get to the bottom of this, if only for her own peace of mind. “Did you?”

      “Yes.”

      “Then there’s no question about that much,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, her heart aching. God, could this be any more of a disaster? “But you’re saying it was consensual.”

      “Damn straight, that’s what I’m saying. I know when a woman wants to sleep with me.”

      There was an arrogant note in his voice that made her wince. “Oh? How do you know that?”

      He faltered at the direct question. “I can just tell, okay? Come on, Mom. Do you really want to discuss this? It creeps me out talking to you about my sex life.”

      Marcie wasn’t overjoyed about the conversation either, but she knew his answers were too important to back off just because the topic made them both a little squeamish. “What if she says no? Is that enough for you?” she asked, cursing herself for leaving this kind of conversation to Ken. Who knew what he’d taught his son about sex, probably that a man could get whatever he wanted with enough charm and determination.

      Evan pushed away from the table so quickly that his chair tumbled backward and crashed on the floor. The door to the room immediately opened and Detective Rodriguez walked in.

      “Everything okay in here?”

      Marcie forced a smile. “Certainly. Evan stood up too quickly and the chair fell. It was just an accident.”

      He didn’t look convinced, but he retreated.

      Marcie returned her attention to her son. “You haven’t answered me, Evan. Do you take no for an answer?”

      “I’m not talking about this with you,” he said tightly. “Go home where you belong and let Dad handle everything. At least he’s on my side.”

      Marcie paled at the hurtful remark, but she refused to back down. “I’m on your side, too, but I’m also a big believer in facing facts. Having a woman claim that you raped her is a very serious thing, Evan. It’s not just going to go away. You might be able to talk your way out of a speeding ticket, but not this. This could destroy your life, do you understand that?”

      “You’re just full of good cheer, aren’t you, Mom? Go home, okay? Dad will fix this.”

      Her gaze clashed with her son’s, but in the end she was the one to look away. The cocky self-assurance she saw there made her want to cry. She would stand beside Evan no matter what, because he was her son, but in that instant she knew she couldn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth.

      

      Emily was as stunned as everyone else when the rumor that Evan had been arrested for date rape spread through the school by mid-morning on Monday. According to the head-lines splashed across the local page of the morning paper, an unidentified freshman at the University of Miami had accused him of the attack, saying that rather than leaving after their date, he’d insisted on coming in and then demanded sex. When she’d turned him down, he’d raped her.

      During her first break, Emily read the article with a sense of disbelief, especially since Marcie had been deliberately vague about why the police had come for Evan. In fact, their only conversation after she’d called to ask if Caitlyn could stay with Emily had been a request that Emily keep Caitlyn for the rest of the weekend.

      “There’s too much going on over here right now and she doesn’t need to hear any of it,” Marcie had said, sounding completely drained.

      “Caitlyn can stay as long as you want,” Emily assured her. “Shall I come by for her things or send her over?”

      “No,” Marcie had said quickly. “I’ll pack a few things and drop them by.”

      “She has a lot of questions,” Emily had warned her.

      Marcie sighed. “We all do.”

      Finally Emily understood the hint of desperation she’d heard in Marcie’s voice and her rushed visit to drop off Caitlyn’s clothes. She’d barely said a word beyond thanking Emily for taking care of Caitlyn and being sure she got to school on Monday.

      Now, as Emily scanned the morning paper in the teacher’s lounge, she tried to imagine the way she’d feel if this had been Josh who’d been accused of such a thing. She also wondered what on earth Marcie had been thinking by allowing Caitlyn to go to school this morning. A sensitive fifteen-year-old girl wasn’t prepared to cope with the stares and whispers and intrusive questions about her brother that were bound to hound her during the day.