What do you have to say for yourself? on At Home

Mathias Stones and Heidi Wright

April 10, 2020 12:31 AM

What do you have to say for yourself? by Mathias Stones and Heidi Wright

The ocean air crackled and a witch with a suitcase appeared between two beach houses. To call this particular location a beach was a strong word, as it was more a series of rocky cliffs and saltwater spray under a grey sky than anything like the beaches of other west coast destinations. Making her way through the Muggle side of town with a polite sense of purpose, smiling at passersby without really seeing them, the witch wasn’t sure how to describe her feeling upon crossing into the magical side of town. On the one hand, she was certainly relieved to be somewhere she did not need to worry about hiding anything about who she was. On the other hand, she was that much closer to confronting a situation that she very much did not want to confront.

As the muggle gave way to magical, and the magical to wild, it became stranger and stranger that Heidi Wright would find who she was looking for tucked away in any of these little houses along the coast. It was one of the last houses before the town gave way to the forested hills. It had a white door. It had a car parked in the driveway, obviously in disuse. This was one of Heidi’s least favorite places to be, although she might have said that about any number of houses with any number of horrible parents and failed children. She knocked on the door and waited until a tired wizard with a little boy on his hip answered the door.

It was clear the man had not slept anytime recently and the brightness of the toddler’s face indicated that he was probably the troublemaker behind it all. Behind the wizard’s legs, toys and clothes were in obvious disarray. He closed the door behind him some, glaring at Heidi when he noticed her looking past him.

“Hello, Mr. Stones,” Heidi greeted him with a nearly perfect façade of neutrality. “May I come in? I have something to discuss with you and I think it would be best if we did so sitting down.”

Mathias Stones’ eyes rounded and he looked taken aback for a moment. He seemed almost vulnerable then, except it was the look of a man afraid he’d been caught, not a man who was sorry about whatever he’d done. Heidi swallowed hard and stepped past him when he left any opening for her to do so.

He put down his youngest child on the carpet before taking a seat at the dining table with Heidi, his hands wringing nervously on his lap under the table. The two looked at each other for a moment, just taking it all in. Then Heidi shuffled in her seat to break the silence and lifted her suitcase onto the table between them.

Social workers, it turned out, were not particularly comforting folk. Mathias wondered whether that was because of his position in this whole dynamic, or just a general truth about social workers. He suspected it was the latter. He had received a few letters from this one, detailing various concerns she had about Evelyn or Evelyn’s mother and none of them had been the slightest bit sympathetic to a man who had just lost his wife and his daughter in nearly every sense of the word “lost,” and was left to raise a son and a career on his own. Where was her humanity?

Her suitcase was the wrong color for her suit. She was wearing a navy pencil skirt – good choice – and matching blazer – okay choice – but her suitcase was black – bad choice. He supposed her stiff letters made more sense if lack of concern was a general personality trait and not just something reflected in her clothing choices.

Regardless, her mismatched suitcase and snobby letters were facing away from him and she spent a moment rifling through them, apparently searching for something she also wasn’t prepared to share with him.

“I do have other things going on today,” he pointed out in a low voice.

Heidi flicked her eyes towards the man across the table from her but didn’t stop rifling and didn’t really look at him. He was not worth it. He had other things going on today than meeting with his daughter’s social worker? Like what, being a parent? That ship had sailed.

The paper she’d been searching for was very near the bottom of all of her papers. Satisfied, she shut her suitcase and put it on the floor beside her feet. She remembered when she’d gone to college and had taken naps in the school library, one leg looped through the straps of her backpack so that if anyone tried to steal anything, she’d wake up. Although this was a very different setting than that had been, and Lord knew she was a very different person, she had the sudden urge to do the same thing here. To do something for a sense of security. What a terrible place to grow up.

“Your office sent several representatives to a conference in Seattle a little over twelve years ago. Did you attend?” she asked, poised with a pen to take note of his response.

“Yes,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He seemed genuinely confused. Lovely.

Heidi made a note and continued. “Do you recall whether you had any sort of meetings with a woman named Claire?”

Mathias remembered Claire very well. She had only been nineteen or twenty at the time and the prettiest brunette he’d ever seen. He generally preferred blondes, but a knockout was a knockout, and she’d had some great charms. He sat back in his chair, wondering what his affairs had to do with anything. “Yeah,” he said sharply. “Why?”

“Because one of the hospitals up in Seattle has had a recent request for vital records and one of them includes your name.” Heidi shouldn’t have reveled in the moment that she got to show Mathias frickin’ Stones what he’d done. One of the many things he’d done wrong was coming back to bite him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who would be bitten and that made Heidi’s rage boil inside her.

Mathias took the document from the social worker. It wasn’t hard to see what it was because he had two others just like it in a file cabinet somewhere. “Claire Mason,” he murmured to himself, touching one of the names on the page. The knockout brunette’s name was next to the word “mother.” His name was, inexplicably, next to the word “father.” The other information on this copy had been redacted and Mathias looked up at the social worker, seeking answers.

“Her child was left anonymously, although Ms. Mason did leave a name it seems, as that was used to find this record.” In this particular case, Heidi had no problem with any sort of legal requirements to maintain confidentiality. Mathias Stones was not a man who needed to know any more about any of his children than he absolutely had to know. “Children generally have the right to access their own records, so this information will be passed on.” Mathias stammered and Heidi reveled in that, too. “It will be up to that child to decide whether or not to contact you, but if you are interested, we can pass on your contact information.”

Mathias just stared. “Twelve years. . . . Is this kid a wizard? Are they at Sonora?”

Heidi didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. She wouldn’t have wanted to answer anyway.

“Should we pass on your contact information?”

Mathias forced himself to shut his mouth. Then he nodded. Then the social worker got up, dipped her head at him, wished him a good day, and left the house. How lucky she was that she could do that.

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