Little Girl Gone by Drusilla Campbell

not to forget it. She had known better than to ask why, if he was not a nice man, Caro was trusted to his care on weekends.
    And Robin
had
been loved; she would not deny or discount that. Her mother had made sure she finished high school at Holy Rosary Academy in Morro Bay and went on to college in Santa Barbara. Robin would have been happy to go to Cal Poly just up the road, save money and live at home, but her mother did not want that.
    “You need to get out, get some independence.”
    “I’m driving up to Beverly Hills in a couple of days,” Robin told her. “Caro’s lawyer wants me to go through the house. I’m not sure exactly why, but I thought I’d better go. I’m taking Django with me.”
    “I’d go too if the devil would stop stabbing me in the back with his pitchfork. I’d like to see the inside of that house. Caro sent me photos but I was never invited. Maybe your sister was ashamed of me.”
    “You know that’s not true.”
    “She held it against me when your father left home.”
    “She was a little girl, Mam. She was confused. We both were.”
    “They must have been made of money to buy a lot in Beverly Hills and build a house from scratch. How did she ever get so peculiar, so set off by herself, I’d like to know. I suppose she thought she was better than us because she got rich all of a sudden.”
    Her mother said such outrageous things sometimes, Robin had to laugh out loud. “You know that’s not true. Caro never thought she was better than us. She wasn’t that kind of person.”
    “Then explain to me what happened, why she left us high and dry.”
    “She didn’t leave us. She just went on with her life. And I could have gone up there. I should have. I wish I had.”
    If she had walked into Caro’s house and asked her straight out why they weren’t true sisters anymore, not even friends, Caro would have told her.
She knew.
But for a long time, Robin had believed she didn’t care that she had no relationship with her sister and father. Now she knew that wasn’t true, but it was too late for her to do anything about it.
    Her mother talked on about Caro, saying that she hadalways craved excitement, taken risks, stepped out to the end of the plank and been unafraid of the deep water.
    “She was never scared of anything.”
    Yet again Robin heard the story of the time Caro was found, aged two (she got younger every time the story was told), atop the old upright piano.
    “She was the bravest little girl and you were the complete opposite. But she spent too much time with your father. I’m afraid it ruined her.” She patted Robin’s forearm. “I know you think you never got a fair shake with him, but you’re better off. Trust me; I know. He was not a nice man.”
    “Has anyone told him about the accident? Do you know where he is, Mam?”
    Nola sighed.
    “You’re still legally married, aren’t you?”
    “Separated. We’re legally
separated
.”
    “You should tell him.”
    “I’d rather not, Robin.”
    “When did you see him last?”
    “Years ago.” Nola flipped her fingertips, dismissing the matter of where and when. “Do you remember how he smoked? He was a chimney, let me tell you. When he left me he was good for two packs a day. I aired the house for a month and the stink didn’t go away.”
    “You should have gotten a divorce. You could have married again and had a life.”
    “You forget your catechism, Robin. If we had divorced, I would have lost the church.”
    “No one cares anymore. You could divorce him tomorrow if you wanted to.”
    “You toss that word around like it’s nothing.”
    “Divorce isn’t the end of the world, Mam.”
    “Don’t lecture me, Robin. You’ve never been married. You don’t understand what it means to make an eternal vow before God.”
    Judgments came to Robin’s mother in the air she breathed and she saw no reason for not expressing them.
    “The Catholic Church is different now,” Robin said.
    “Alas. But my church has