The Underside of Joy

asked.
    ‘Yes. You see, I don’t think I ever intended to leave my children for good.’
    ‘That,’ I said, ‘is simply not true. You told him you were never coming back.’
    Paige ignored me and directed her speech to Janice Conner. ‘I had a severe case of postpartum depression. I wasn’t – Well, I thought it would be better for Annie and Zach to – for me not to be there with them. Joe didn’t understand. I left. But I wrote letters. I did stop for a while, but when I resumed trying to contact him, he wouldn’t take my calls at the store. When he filed for full custody, I was at my lowest point. I was, ah . . .’ She took a deep breath that escaped in a long sigh. ‘I was in a psychiatric ward, and that’s where I finally met the doctor who knew how to help me.
    ‘So I kept writing letters to Joe and the kids. Even as I gave up custody, I knew it was only temporary. I planned to get myself together, get a job, let Joe come around. But he never did. Because he had met her.’ She nodded to me. ‘Ella.’
    ‘Yes, Joe and I met four months after she left. After she told him she was never coming back and that he should move on.’
    Janice Conner said, ‘Okay. Let me interrupt here. It’s unfortunate, Paige, that you and the children’s father couldn’t work things out. But here we are today. Three years later. The kids have an obviously loving stepmother to whom they’ve grown attached. They’ve just lost their father. Why now? Why should we upset their world further and move them?’
    Paige took another deep breath. ‘Joe’s death has hit Ella hard, and I don’t think she’s been there for the children. After the funeral, I found her drinking and smoking in the garden. Since then, Annie calls me frequently. She told me that Ella almost got in a car accident and screamed and swore at the kids.’
    That again? Really? I shook my head.
    ‘After I had them for the weekend, I dropped them off at her house, and Ella, she seemed drugged or under the influence of something. She said she had the flu, but I wonder about her drug use.’
    Now I stared at Paige, but she kept her eyes on Janice Conner and continued.
    ‘Meanwhile, the children and I have got reacquainted, and I’m so relieved to know that our bond was never broken. You know this: how strong the bond is between a mother and her child.’ Paige smoothed her skirt. ‘Whenever I talk to Annie, she asks when she can come visit. Plus, the store wasn’t even making it three years ago and I wonder about Ella’s financial stability.’
    Janice Conner kept writing after Paige finally stopped talking, then glanced up at me, over her glasses. ‘Ella, I’d like to hear from you now. What would you like me to know?’
    My heart beat loudly in my ears. She knew the store was struggling three years ago? ‘Basically?’ I said. ‘That she’s not being truthful.’
    Janice Conner smiled patiently. ‘I know you have a different perspective, and now’s your opportunity to tell your side of the story.’
    ‘Nevertheless,’ I remembered to say. ‘There were no letters. She never sent one letter, except for the one she left at the house, telling Joe she wanted out and that he made a great parent, but she couldn’t do it.’ That’s it. I didn’t tell them that I’d looked through the boxes of Joe’s things, just in case. But still, I’d found nothing.
    Paige shook her head. ‘I sent cards and letters. Many of them,’ she whined. She looked at me. ‘Where the hell were you?’
    Janice Conner cleared her throat. ‘I need to remind you both to keep your statements and questions directed at me. I do have a question for you, Paige. Did you ever send any of those cards and letters certified mail?’ The room fell quiet for the first time. I looked over at Paige, who shook her head slowly, barely, looking at her hands in her lap. ‘That’s unfortunate. Because then we wouldn’t be relying on a she-said’ – she smiled – ‘she-said scenario. Paige, do you think it’s possible that the letters were never sent?’
    Paige said no, but her face began to redden.
    Janice continued. ‘I’ve done that before, thought I sent something only to find it tucked in the bill drawer. You were on medications, going through a difficult time. Could you have given them to a nurse or orderly? Your psychiatrist? Or maybe stuck them in your suitcase to mail later? I’m not suggesting you didn’t write them, only that –’
    ‘No!’ Paige almost