False Step

by Victoria Helen Stone

Feet crunching on the gravel-littered cement, Veronica hurried through the old-fashioned alley. She imagined this was one of the last neighborhoods in the Denver area that had been built with alleys. They simply weren’t an efficient use of land. But she liked being here. It felt like a secret world behind their houses, and their narrow streets looked so orderly with no driveways or front-facing garages. The alley was also an easy way to spy on the neighbors. People left their blinds open in the back. They stood out on their decks to smoke cigarettes and have loud conversations on cell phones. None of them seemed to realize how their voices echoed down the cement lane. But Veronica realized. She never took a private call outside or anywhere near an open window. She kept her secrets close.

Like the surrounding houses, the school was low and long and vaguely ugly. If it were redbrick it might have had a certain charm, but its beige-blond color depressed her, especially when she noticed the way water had trailed rust lines down the bricks from the roof. Still, it was a decent enough school, and Sydney had always liked her teachers.

As for that one time? Well, she’d forgiven him. Or she thought she had. It turned out that frantically gluing the broken pieces of a marriage back together didn’t make for the tightest hold. The seams had eventually given way and left her sitting in a giant, messy pile of hurt and anger and memories.

It was Johnny’s big night. Veronica wouldn’t cause trouble. She wouldn’t kick Trey out. But God, how had this become her crowd? It was Johnny’s big night. Veronica wouldn’t cause trouble. She wouldn’t kick Trey out. But God, how had this become her crowd?

She knew exactly how it had become her crowd. The same way she’d become one of those women who regarded every other nearby female as a threat: she’d married Johnny.

She knew she was the one who’d changed since then. Johnny was the same as he’d always been. She’d isolated herself. She’d become smaller to make room for his presence. She’d given up her friends. It had been her own doing.

She’d told herself it was because she’d become a mom just when her friends were starting careers and moving away. They were still single and dating, and she was caring for a baby. Of course they’d grown apart. But that had only been the beginning of it. Because then Johnny had screwed up. That’s what he’d called it. “Screwing up.” But he’d really screwed in, right into a little redhead he’d met at the gym. That was when women had become competition instead of allies. And now Veronica was just . . . lonely.

at Micah’s. Smiling to herself, she padded to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee and feed Old Man. Sydney wandered out and flopped onto the couch, so Veronica grabbed a blanket and joined her. Old Man curled up close too, and in that moment life felt perfect. It was hardly a cozy scene of yesteryear, with Sydney on the tablet and Veronica reading the news on her phone, but was it so different? Would it mean they were closer if she were reading a newspaper and Sydney were drawing in her sketch pad? Impossible to imagine she could feel any more connected to her little girl than she did right now.

How had she fallen so far, so quickly? She’d started shedding threads of herself somewhere along the way and now she was willingly unraveling, tossing off tendrils and strings until they tangled around her like some warped aurora. Her whole life she’d assumed she was a decent person, maybe even a good person. She didn’t steal or do drugs. She contributed to society. She protected her child. She drove safely and always wore her seat belt. Heck, her entire career was built on helping people who most needed help. But this year, at every crossroads, she’d willingly taken the crooked path. She’d wanted that. She’d felt entitled to rewards for all the good decisions she’d made. She’d put in her time. She’d earned her right to do wrong. And she was doing it again. But what other choice did she have? She had to protect Sydney. There wasn’t a better option, was there? As she pulled into her neighborhood,